Word: windowful
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Then came window coverings, more fun than a ramble around Cripple Creek. "They wanted to get more aggressively into imports, so here I am, 23 or 24, on an eight-week trip to Europe, India, Japan. I truly thought I'd gone to heaven." Same thing with decorative pillows: "I had a collection of Seurat and Van Gogh made out of needlepoint in India. I merchandized them as art, not pillows -- $500 apiece. They sold out in one day, so I didn't have time to enjoy the fun." And lamps: "You pick up shells, antique tea cans, baskets, boxes...
...those who still fancy the image of Cassady speeding cross country -- muscled arm out the window of a Hudson Hornet, Benzedrine inhaler in nostril -- it may come as a surprise to learn how hard he worked, albeit sporadically, to support his family. He was a brakeman for the Southern Pacific, a job that required a quick mind and quicker feet. Later, fellow workers at the Los Gatos Tire Co. marveled at his speed and skill with iron and sledge...
...thin young man with the look of an unslept jailbird -- he is wanted by the army, like his best friend who was killed just now -- stops for a second, his body's engine racing, in front of a shop with a mannequin in its window dressed in a stately white wedding gown. The fugitive speaks with a distracted courtesy, wanting to be polite but needing to flee for his life, and then vanishes into an alley. The owner of the shop slams down his steel curtain over the window with the wedding gown. The mannequin bride goes blank...
Elsewhere in Furstenwalde it was much the same: plenty of looking, little buying. "I have 5,000 marks (($3,000)) in my bank account, and I'm thinking about a stereo set," said Dirk Juttner, 21, an unmarried construction worker who stood outside the show window of a newly opened electronics store jammed with Sony TV sets, Toshiba CD players and Grundig stereos. "But I'll shop around for a good price...
...whether the accommodations are cramped or commodious, on every railway a different America floats past the window. The paths of trains are like those roads that author William Least Heat Moon called "blue highways," the forgotten byways that lead into the heart -- and the soul -- of the country. Such a trip unreels a documentary about smokestack America that pans across abandoned factories, stockyards, waste dumps and prisons. It is also a voyeuristic voyage more real than Roseanne, crazier than A Current Affair. For the train catches the nation in its undershirt, unguarded in its backyard after work, quarreling amid rusting...