Word: smith
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Dates: during 2000-2000
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...recession. If one doesn't emerge, stocks will take the lead again. But be ready to say goodbye to those 20%-plus years. One argument for stocks now: since World War II, eight times at this point in the year bonds were up while stocks were down, reports Salomon Smith Barney. Each time stocks rallied through year-end as whatever fears had gripped investors abated. The average four-month gain in those instances was 11%. But even if this year makes it a perfect nine for nine, bonds could do well too. So listen to your gut. Bonds...
Reading gossip, Liz Smith cheerily admits in the prologue to her new book, is for people with a lot of time on their hands--"for leisure, for fun." So reading the memoir of a gossip columnist may be a sign that you should start donating time to charitable work...
...natural brunette? Yes. (We knew it!) As a bisexual? Uh...kinda. If you can call this coming out, it is one of the weirder comings-out in the history of the genre. Smith writes of a doomed youthful romance with a fellow female student at the University of Texas; their parents read their love letters and forced the two apart. Yet she writes about her longtime roommate, the archaeologist Iris Love, with puzzling coyness. She dismisses Kitty Kelley's insinuation, in a book on Nancy Reagan, that Love and Smith were a couple ("a fantastic aside that I had been...
...seriously ask the question in a Liz Smith review--is it any of our business? Gay activists have criticized the columnist (whom they long maintained was gay) for helping celebrities keep closeted by passing on their stories of heterosexual relationships, implying that homosexuality is the one secret too filthy for even a gossip to reveal. Smith says that she has always opposed outing--she once helped Rock Hudson "counter-blackmail" a woman who threatened to expose him--and that she doesn't like to define herself in terms of her love life. So why write about her two marriages...
Well, our prurient, inappropriate concern did add a buzz to an overlong buffet of stardust memories. Smith dishes--remembering, for instance, a farcical night dropping acid with actress Holland Taylor. But she does it, generally, with obsequious reverence and block-that-metaphor prose (Joan Crawford was "her own nebula--a woman who hauled herself up by her bootstraps and created her glittering star self from scratch"). That soft touch has made her the Barbara Walters of gossip, with access to match. "[W]ouldn't you rather I dealt with it Liz Smith-style?" she asks subjects. After a few hundred...