Word: touch
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Dates: during 1970-1970
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When Ronald Kley, a research associate for the Maine State Museum in Augusta, wanted a satellite photograph of the state for a museum exhibit, he naturally got in touch with NASA. No luck there, nor with the Weather Bureau or the Air Force. The angles of orbiting U.S. satellites are such that their cameras distort details north of Chesapeake...
...whim, Kley then wrote to the Soviet embassy in Washington, which put him in touch with the Soviet Academy of Sciences. Certainly, said the Russians. They offered a good clear satellite shot not just of Maine but of the entire coast from Long Island to Newfoundland. The Soviets' candid space cameras are obviously positioned to snap perfect views of the parts of the world that interest them most. If Kley had asked the U.S. agencies for an aerial picture of Uzbekistan, they probably could have obliged...
...Round 11. "Imagine that!" exclaimed Ali. "Him predictin' on me!" At their prefight physical, Oscar tweaked Ali's cheek. Ali started to lunge at Oscar. "Why you so nerbous?" said the Argentine. "You afraid Oscar and his beeg muscles?" Ali: "You're not good enough to touch me." Oscar: "Not good? Me white, you black. You smell. Why you no use perfume?" Ali: "Never predict on me. Never do that, you hear?" Oscar: "Why you no go in Army? You chicken? Cheep, cheep, cheep." Ali again reached for Oscar. "Don't touch me," warned Bonavena...
With that touch of urbane cynicism, Rudolf Bing last week introduced the man who will succeed him two seasons hence as general manager of Manhattan's Metropolitan Opera. He is Sweden's Goran Gentele (pronounced Joran Gften-tell-uh), 53, who for the past seven years has directed the Royal Opera House in Stockholm. He will move to the Met next June to learn the ropes during Bing's final season. When Gentele takes full control in July 1972, he will assume the most prestigious, toughest and probably the highest-paying (reportedly $100,000 a year) administrative...
...house the soul of man in an epoch to come. That will be the labor of many brains and many hands, yet the spirit of man is not many but one, and its inner sonorities are a golden lyre which can cause the very stones to stir at the touch of Amphion, son of Zeus. For we are all sons of Zeus in that we are all created to be creators...