Let’s start today with some acrobatics. It’ll loosen us up. They are by Carly Schuna who happens to be the constructor of today’s excellent puzzle! Her performance on the German Wheel runs about 5 minutes at the end of which you may feel joyful. How often can you say that?
After referring to CHICK LIT as a “stupid derogatory term” today, Rex felt the need to write: “I should add that most everyone I know is a woman.”
So I added the following note:
“So Rex mostly knows women? That explains why he’s so grumpy most of the time. [That was a joke. I ran it by my wife before typing it. She told me not to use it, but only because it’s not funny. Good point.]
“And speaking of mostly women, my daughter Caity is an excellent RN in oncology. (I am very proud of her.) Once when she was a nursing student, she texted me and asked if I could bring her notebook to her in class — she had left it on her desk at home and she needed it for an open book/notes exam. She gave me the room number and said I should just come in, stand in the back, and she’d come and take it from me. I said sure, grabbed it, and drove the short distance to her school.
“The minute I walked in, about 20 exquisite 19-year old women turned and looked at me. It was like walking into a Victoria’s Secret catalog. The instructor said something, and I remember thinking if I could somehow get out the words ‘daughter’ and ‘notebook’ amid my stammering, I might be okay. Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, Caity rescued me (with a big smile) by coming up and taking the book.”
A Rex commenter today used the expression “generational difficulty.” Puzzles can be skewed towards a specific generation or generations. And if yours is not among them, you have to hope the crossing answers will rescue you. I’m at sea when it comes to rap stars and texting lingo, except for the few of each that are in widest circulation. I’m also weak on old movies and the sciences.
Today there were two long answers that were Gen-Z-centric. One was “‘I can relate,’ in Gen Z slang.” The answer was THAT IS SUCH A MOOD.
WTF? I have never seen that. This is what Google gave me: It means that something you see perfectly portrays a feeling/mood that you have/are having. For example: You’re at the zoo and tired and you say “That sleeping panda is such a mood.”
The other one was “‘As frickin’ if!’” The answer was HELL TO THE NO. Apparently, it’s said instead of “Hell no!” That’s news to me.
On the other hand, there was “Dancing duo of the early 1900s,” which was even before my time. It was ASTAIRES. Fred danced with his sister Adele back then. At least I’ve heard of Fred.
Did you know this about IDAHO? According to 26A, its name is completely fabricated despite being “translated” as “gem of the mountains.”
The clue at 47D was “Brief out line?” and the answer was I LOSE, the reference being to something like a poker game where I’m out = I lose. I agreed with several commenters who said a better answer would have been I’M GAY.
A few days ago Owl Chatter chatted about Miss Cleo, the TV psychic who was famous enough from her late-night TV ads to make it into the puzzle. I don’t recall seeing any of the ads, but I wish I had — she was great! Take a look:
The Poetry Foundation sent this poem today. It’s by Jacqueline Allen Trimble and is called The Language of Joy.
Black woman joy is like this:
Mama said one day long before I was born
she was walking down the street,
foxes around her neck, their little heads
smiling up at her and out at the world
and she was wearing this suit she had saved up
a month’s paycheck for after it called to her so seductively
from the window of this boutique. And that suit
was wearing her, keeping all its promises
in all the right places. Indigo. Matching gloves.
Suede shoes dippity-do-dahed in blue.
With tassels! Honey gold. And, Lord, a hat
with plume de peacock, a conductor’s baton that bounced
to hip rhythm. She looked so fine she thought
Louis Armstrong might pop up out of those movies
she saw as a child, wipe his forehead and sing
ba da be bop oh do de doe de doe doe.
And he did. Mama did not sing but she was skiddly-doing that day,
and the foxes grinned, and she grinned
and she was the star of her own Hollywood musical
here with Satchmo who had called Ella over and now they were all
singing and dancing like a free people up Dexter Avenue,
and don’t think they didn’t know they were walking in the footsteps
of slaves and over auction sites and past where old Wallace
had held onto segregation like a life raft, but this
was not that day. This day was for foxes and hip rhythm
and musical perfection and folks on the street joining in the celebration
of breath and holiness. And they did too. In color-coordinated ensembles,
they kicked and turned and grinned and shouted like church
or football game, whatever their religious preference. The air
vibrated with music, arms, legs, and years of unrequited
sunshine. Somebody did a flip up Dexter Avenue.
It must have been a Nicholas Brother in a featured performance,
and Mama was Miss-Lena-Horne-Dorothy-Dandridge
high-stepping up the real estate, ready for her close-up.
That’s when Mama felt this little tickle. She thought
it might be pent-up joy, until a mouse squirmed out
from underneath that fine collar, over that fabulous fur,
jumped off her shoulder and ran down the street.
Left my mama standing there on Dexter Avenue in her blue
suit and dead foxes. And what did Mama do?
Everybody looking at her, robbed by embarrassment?
She said, “It be like that sometimes,” then she and Satchmo,
Ella, and the whole crew jammed their way home.
The Owl Chatter staff is still working on the lineup of special guests for the next post after this one, which will be #250. We’ll be broadcasting from the Walls of Jericho Valley in the Berkshires, where the air, we hope, will not be too smoky (cough, cough).
Thanks for dropping by.
The Wellington Files 