Word: yellow
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...event was definitely the thing. At one point the throng of 100 began to chant, "Orb, Orb, Orb!" building to a thunderous crescendo as their man, Dave Sherman '77, entered clad in a yellow bathrobe which served as his warmup suit. He slowly removed it, acknowledged his fans, flexed his muscles and went down to defeat in quick order. But no matter, the Mighty Orb headed for an early shower via the beer...
Sharing the limelight with Seltzer is Nancy Gustafson as Patience, the pure-hearted, affectation-hating country girl. Clad in a yellow and white dirndle, Gustafson acts the part with a winsome wholesomeness and devotion to duty. Her scenes with Archibald, particularly when she alternately begs him to "think of me sometimes" and warns him to "think of me sometimes" and warns him to "advance at your peril," are especially fine. But Gustafson's talents are most in evidence when she launches into song. Her strong, pure soprano elevates Patience's plight to operatic heights, her superb diction rarely obscuring Gilbert...
...example, between the trailingly ethereal black and white gowns worn by the poetically enamoured female chorus and the multicolored Victorian dress they don near the end underscores the drama of their conversion from transcendental to commonplace. Roger Bardwell's set, a simulation of red brick, grey classical columns and yellow and green hedges is functional rather than aesthetically pleasing. Under the direction of David Crowe, the orchestra does an able job of executing Sullivan's difficult music...
...ringmaster rose early, put on a yellow turtleneck shirt and made his one-legged way to Comiskey Park, which weathers gracefully on the South Side of Chicago, like the ringmaster himself. It was clear and warm and sunlit, a morning for the gods, but Bill Veeck's team, the White Sox, had not descended from Olympus. From Alan Bannister at shortstop to Richie Zisk in right field, the 1977 Sox are human, at best...
...upbringing and education, in language and athletic ability. But their stories illustrate the variety of experience and the alwaysfresh quality of the Boston Marathon. There is enough space, by the way, to mention that Johnny Kelley the elder, the Marathon's 69-year-old institution, trotted across the yellow finish line roughly three hours and 30 minutes after he started. And the gray-haired runner was smiling...