
The Last of the Big-Time Spenders
It’s not Diamond Jim Brady, Bet a Million Gates, an Arab sheik, or Liberace. It’s a library.
It’s not Diamond Jim Brady, Bet a Million Gates, an Arab sheik, or Liberace. It’s a library.
At the National Women’s Conference, the feminists changed their sandals for pumps and embraced mainstream America.
It’s tough to select food in a fast-moving serving line. A cafeteria is no place for the timid.
Analysts can’t decide whether Tom Browne, Inc., is a silk stock or a sow’s ear.
Like most wrong ideas, the concept of the sunbelt didn’t matter until people started putting it into practice.
Royal women reign in Houston; Spanish artist eats dough; new novel for the operating table; more UFOs from Hollywood; wanted: a conductor for the San Antonio Symphony.
Larry Flynt hears the call; everyone hears Bob Bullock; McConn job in Houston; ghost in the newsroom; and cotton on the dinner table.
Last words on the West, the remains of the defenders of the Alamo, and Larry McMurtry’s sagging shelf.