Word: housemaid
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Whatever the showmanship, it is the stewardess who carries the brunt of being both star attraction and hard-working housemaid. What with jet flights getting shorter and menus growing longer, the stewardesses' life aloft is a kind of hell in the heavens. There are as many as 195 guests to greet, seat, serve ancj-within reason-sate, and the girls must perform like a whirlwind combination of Jean Shrimpton, Gwen Cafritz, a short-order cook and a nurse for all ages. One Western Air Lines time-motion expert, for instance, has figured out that on an 85-minute flight...
...think about it, the immorality of it grabs you by the throat, and you want to run, to get it out of your system," says a white not long out of Europe. "But then it's a new day, and the hibiscus blazes on your stoop, the housemaid is singing a township song as she hangs out the clothes, and your children are tanner than ever and growing like trees. The anguish of South Africa seems a long way away...
...sister, a Mrs. Donald Crawford, who suddenly informed her husband that she had been "ruined" by Sir Charles. What's more, she told him that Sir Charles had taught her "every French vice" and had persuaded her to play three-in-a-bed with himself and his housemaid. Mr. Crawford thereupon decided to sue his wife for divorce and to name Sir Charles as corespondent. Dilke duly protested that he had never laid a finger on Mrs. Crawford, but he knew that the prudish Victorian public would not believe him. So did Gladstone. He quietly dropped Dilke...
...high places has lately been striking the Greek Orthodox Church with disturbing frequency. In 1962 the new Archbishop of Athens resigned shortly after his election to that primatial office upon being exposed as a homosexual; two years later, Bishop Philippos of Drama was dethroned for adultery with his housemaid. Now a much more widespread scandal has shocked Greece. This time the fuss is not about sex but that other great fascinator: money...
...flowers that fill Chagall's home in Vence you report: "The moment they begin to fade, the artist prods his wife to throw them out." The contrasting attitude of Pierre Bonnard is interesting. In an interview some years after Bonnard's death, his longtime housemaid said that one of her despairs was the master's way with the bouquets she brought in from the garden daily. Not until they were ready to throw out did he show interest in them; then, when that first shine was off and petals were falling, he began to paint them...