Word: pairing
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Dates: during 2000-2000
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That was July 1956. And while lots of folks will tell you that when they heard Elvis shout "You ain't nothin' but a hound dog!" it changed music forever, the revolution was already well under way. In fact, you could say it began in 1950, when a pair of 17-year-old white kids named Leiber and Stoller teamed up to write for black rhythm-and-blues performers like Jimmy Witherspoon and Big Mama Thornton--for whom they yelled and banged out Hound Dog in 10 inspired minutes...
...late '50s, the pair began working with other writers and producing records for such artists as the Drifters and Ben E. King. Stoller recalls the creation of There Goes My Baby and the birth of soul. "I started playing a counterline on the piano that was like a Rimsky-Korsakov melody. Jerry said, 'That sounds like strings,' and I said, 'Why not? Let's do it.'" So came the first R.-and-B. record with strings. With Spanish Harlem, they added Brazilian and African percussion...
...bounce in his step. After quick introductions and a handshake, he smiles and gets to the point. "Shall we go?" he asks in slightly accented English. The interview, it seems, will have to wait. He's wearing a metallic gray muscle shirt, navy running shorts, white socks and a pair of emerald Nikes. The thin crescent of a new moon is hanging over the medieval city of Marrakech. Morocco's 36-year-old monarch is ready...
Jeff Bridges got zapped into it in TRON. Keanu Reeves reached it by means of a red pill in The Matrix. In Neal Stephenson's novel Snow Crash--a cult classic in Silicon Valley--our hero, Hiro Protagonist, goes there wearing goggles and a pair of virtual-reality gloves. It's where I expect to be spending my evenings in the twilight of my life, without ever leaving the comfort of my sofa. And--who knows?--maybe I'll meet you there...
...that. What I mean is that I can't stand for my feet to be uncomfortable. Most of my body's capacity for low-grade chronic pain is located south of the ankles, and as a result, much of my life is spent in the quest for a decent pair of shoes. I live in hope. I pause at shoe-store windows and grow glassy-eyed. My sons find the effect mildly hilarious. The Mr. Toad of footwear...