Word: 30s
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...Smith were dueling in more than a dozen sports. Soon after W.J. Bingham '16 took the reins as Harvard's first athletic director in 1926, the intramural program expanded to for mally include upperclassmen. But it was President Lowell's inauguration of the House system in the early '30s that gave intramural athletics their natural medium Students began competing for their Houses rather than for their classes. The new systems inflated the number of teams competing thus opening up intramurals for widespread participation...
Elsewhere in the South Seas of the '30s, TV viewers will come upon Jake Cutter, mainstay of the Tales of the Gold Monkey (ABC, Wednesdays, 8 p.m. E.S.T.), who is not as burly as Buck, and is subject to occasional bouts of malaria besides. A hard-times flyboy with a beat-up leather jacket and a Terry and the Pirates cap, Cutter finds himself enmeshed, often to his considerable chagrin, in a variety of exotic adventures having to do with lost treasures and old legends. Cutter, attractively played by Stephen Collins, darts around in a wreck of a seaplane...
...could this be happening? With obsessive drive, a brilliant mastery of automotive engineering and management techniques, and a maverick's allure, De Lorean, barely out of his 30s, had risen to rule the Pontiac and Chevrolet divisions of giant General Motors. He had charmed his way into the glitzier show-biz celebrity circles, dating the likes of Candice Bergen, Nancy Sinatra and Ursula Andress before selecting his third wife, Actress-Model Cristina Ferrare, 32 (he is 57). Impatient with the corporate world's slow decision making, he had quit GM to race down a faster track. He had persuaded Britain...
...Yorker has been my substitute for a university." On his own, he then began to grow up in public view. Early dust-jacket photographs and publicity stills caught the young novelist and poet as a newly fledged bird, all beak, startled eyes and unruly plumage. In his 30s, happily domesticated and the father of four children, he lived and went on working in Ipswich, Mass. He added some bulk to his frame and bibliography...
...film is simply too nice. The best comedy is always shot through with a subtle streak of cruelty: laughter inevitably claims a victim. Order is always sacrificed to chaos. But My Favorite Year positively wallows in benignity. The screwball comedies of the 30s could get away with that, but sheer niceness just isn't a cinematic virtue any longer. A recent example of this shift came last year in Victor/Victoria, in which Blake Edwards momentarily lost his customary sharpness and floundered around in a bland, sentimental limbo. Likewise, My Favorite Year contains too many lovable characters, too many cute situations...