Word: haired
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...toughest problem of Kevin Hatamiya's brief elementary school career doesn't involve arithmetic. It's his hair-trigger emotions. Whenever life throws the 7-year-old second-grader a setback, his short fuse ignites, and he yells at the top of his voice. His mother Michele thought manners lessons might teach him to cope better, so she paid $50 for three one-hour classes. "I'd like him to control himself more," says Michele, "not just with his temper but in lots of other ways...
...leads at the right time. Uncertain in their first films, they are comfortable with the camera now, and have grown into their roles as into their maturing bodies. That is appropriate, for this episode is a parable of puberty--of boys bursting into young manhood, when the sprouting of hair and the deepening of voices are exciting and threatening. No lad is fully prepared for this convulsive rite of passage, not even a Hogwarts wizard--of Harry's generation or the one before...
...show ends with the nudes that were the subject of the only solo exhibition that Modigliani had in his lifetime. Something about the way they combined simplified figuration with frank tufts of armpit and pubic hair shocked even Paris. The gendarmes were alerted and closed the show down. You won't have to worry about that now. You'll just have to fight the crowds...
Nutritionist Marion Nestle stares in wonder at the latest bit of marketing wizardry to hit American sweetshops: sour green tamarind-flavored Shrek candies. She pops off the Shrek-shaped cap on a Crazy Hair confection and, after some initial befuddlement (of a kind no one under 12 would suffer), turns a dial on the bottom of the plastic tube. Sticky strands of chartreuse goo extrude through a nozzle and "grow" upward in apparent defiance of gravity. "Wow!" says Nestle, who has a deep appreciation for such ingenuity. She plunges in with a taste test. "Yech! So sour!" she complains...
...airplane, during the 1980 presidential campaign. I imagined myself an aggressive young reporter in those days, and I had prepared a series of incendiary questions that I have long since forgotten. Reagan was wearing a brown suit; his red foulard was tied in a Windsor knot. His hair swooped dramatically; his cheeks were an odd wax-museum rouge. We shook hands and came out fighting. At least I did. He cocked his head, smiled and flicked me off his sleeve...