Word: sidewalks
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Broadway 1776. There is a degradation of intellect, taste and dignity about this musical, which presents history as painted by a sidewalk sketch artist. The Peter Stone book depends on the audience to expect the expectable and to bring along its own worn coloring crayons to fill out the roles...
...demands an austerity that has nothing to do with their current mood. Contemporary France is moving rapidly, almost visibly, into the age of mass-consumer, pop-culture society, and the last thing it wants is austerity. The evidence of that attitude is almost everywhere. The France of sunny sidewalk cafés and smoky boîtes is now, also, the France of 536 Wimpy hamburger mills, dizzy discothéques and monumental traffic jams. Vacationers on the Côte d'Azur looking for bargain accommodations now stop at modern motels as well as at the traditional spartan pensions...
...Paris. Unlike so many of De Gaulle's disciples, Pompidou had neither enlisted in the exile army nor joined the underground in World War II. He passed it quietly as a teacher, and when the general marched victoriously into Paris, Pompidou watched the parade from the sidewalk, one spectator among many thousands. He liked what he saw, and arranged through a friend to join De Gaulle's staff. He soon came to the general's attention as the writer of succinct position papers...
There's Little Walter, sputtering on a slush dirt sidewalk, trying to find his way to a gig at Pepper's; there's Hank Williams, the bad cowboy, but he was sad, too, man. Stoic on the floor, the sad-bad hillbilly. Crazy Dylan flagging down huge trucks on Highway 61, the Automatic Kid, Energy Beam Rocker. He can't catch anything, just hold his collar to his neck and fall back when the wind hits him. Charly Parker smiling, no black revolt for him, it's all very foggy, bip-bop, if you would be so kind...
Yale's Neil Wilkof and Tom Warren left town without communicating information about their performances or the well-deserved congratulations. Somewhere along the 26-mile route, Fallows saw Warren clutch his leg in agony and yell, "My God, my God, it's my leg." Warren took to the sidewalk, reclined, and was never seen again...