Word: pooling
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Dates: during 1970-1970
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...camera, he lives in Hollywood Hills in a home that sports a pool and sauna. He swims, bowls, has regular massages and rejects the notion that there is any significance in the fact that he is black. "Why does it have to be a question of black and white? I'm a comic, and my thoughts are reflected in what I do. I don't like to talk politics." But Flip tries to be more philosophical about his relationship with his audience. "I give an honest day's work, and I'm well paid...
...were expecting." Then maternal pride asserted itself. "Their aim was really good, wasn't it?" Speaking of aim-and of the Kennedy waters-Lee Udall, the lively wife of R.F.K. Trustee Stewart Udall, suddenly blurted a confession about the celebrated dunking of Arthur Schlesinger Jr. in the Kennedy pool. "All these years, Ethel has been taking the rap for me," she said. "I'm the one who pushed Arthur into the pool. I was dancing by and he was standing there holding forth and looking so Arthurish, and something came over me. I just stuck...
Beer at $1.40. On the first day, New York Timesman Eric Pace managed to get the U.S. embassy on the phone to dictate a pool dispatch. In the middle of a second dispatch, the line went dead. Soon the hotel-and indeed the whole city-was without electricity or running water. The hotel bar shut down, but an enterprising employee did a brisk business in Jordanian beer at $1.40 a bottle...
...couple of quick expeditions into the streets, we were able to piece together a partial picture of the fighting. Some of us also kept diaries of life inside "Stalag Intercontinental." In the occasional lulls, the sound of typewriters could be heard all over the building. Friendly embassies accepted some pool copy when we could get it to them. But not until the first newsmen were evacuated from the Jordanian capital last week were we able to fulfill our assignments: to write our own stories of the battle for Amman...
Lieut. Gregory Wallace, a World War II fighter pilot, is shot down in the Pacific and finds himself on a perfect gem of a desert island. Four kinds of fruit. Coconut milk. Plenty of wild potatoes. Quite edible sea birds and their eggs. A made-to-order fresh-water pool. Even one fellow inhabitant-a sort of man Friday named Kee. Why, Robinson Crusoe would have been down on his knees, offering up one of his manly prayers of thanksgiving to Providence...