The puzzle was nice and breezy today. The theme was a play on “kinda,” meaning “kind of,” using phrases that contained parts that could double as a suffix or prefix. [I know, I know — what the hell is he talking about?]
So at 16A the clue was “Kinda comedic and saucy?” and the answer was BURLESQUE-ESQUE. Get it?
At 39A the clue was “Kinda squishy and sting-y?” and the answer was JELLYFISH-ISH. (My favorite.)
28A: “Kinda religious institution?” SEMI-SEMINARY.
50A: “Kinda hunchbacked figure?” QUASI-QUASIMODO. (Also my favorite.)
Here’s the clue from 9D: “Kind of accent heard in ‘Pahk yah cah in Hahvahd Yahd.’” BOSTON, of course. Son Volt posted this rocker for us. I’ve heard of the group but the tune was new to me. There’s a reference to Van Morrison’s “Cypress Avenue” in it. Turn it up!
I don’t recall ever sharing more than one Met Diary story from a Sunday, but the writing in this one is so good, it left me no choice. It’s also a small part of my own youth. It’s by Vincent Barkley.
Dear Diary:
If I had a few bucks and the weather wasn’t terrible, I would bundle up and take the subway from Bay Ridge to Coney Island.
Truthfully, this was about all I could manage. I was 17, and my mother had just died. Soon, I would be on my own.
At some point along the way, the train exited the tunnel’s darkness into dazzling daylight. Then on to Coney Island and Stillwell Avenue, the end of the line.
Downstairs, Philip’s Candy was my source for chocolate licorice. The windows were darkened with dust from the station above.
Across the street was the Cyclone. According to a childhood legend: “Once kids were playing with the controls in the first car, and the coaster left the track and got chopped up in the Wonder Wheel!”
To the right was the original Nathan’s. They had crinkle cut French fries and hot dogs with snap. My mom once bought a crinkle cut potato slicer to make us fries like the ones at Nathan’s.
To the left was Eldorado Auto Skooter: bumper cars with disco lighting and a body-slamming sound system. Possibly the greatest invention of all time.
Further down was the carousel. Majestic and fast-moving, a menagerie of surging, vivid animals amid a harrumphing organ with castanets and cymbals. It was operated by the world’s saddest-looking man.
On the boardwalk, if the sun was shining, people of every stripe would be out and about. Some were ancient residents, their skin like leather from years baking in the sun.
Coney Island is best in winter, when it’s in quiet repose. It’s soulful and shabby and old. And timeless like those residents in their sun-blasted skin.
It was all there for me.
From The Onion last Friday:
Trump Family Takes Adorable Birthday Pictures Of Donald’s Face Covered In Cake
A nice combo in the puzzle was 37D where “Singer Lauper” was CYNDI, and 38D, “Playful term for one’s female friends” was GIRLIES. Here you go. One of the great pop tunes of all time.
Mark Amos of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) posted this yesterday:
“My son has just informed me that something must be wrong with the gloss paint I recently used to paint the inside of his bedroom door. He explained that the sunlight had caused a dull patch to appear behind the mirror he hung on the back of it. Worried and believing the paint used was inferior, I immediately went upstairs thinking about what I was going to say to the local hardware store I purchased it from. Removing the mirror, I couldn’t see anything wrong and then realised he had been looking at the shadow cast by said mirror. I won’t say anything to him for the time being but may show him this post and read out all the informative comments at a later date.”
You would think a post like that would generate some comments, but there were only 117 (so far). Here are a few:
1. Judging by the number of posts you make on here, I’m surprised you found time to have a son 
2. I love these stories. Aged 7 and 5 me and my brother were sent to bed early without supper and banished to an upstairs bedroom on pain of absolute silence. I wrote a note and found a piece of string and dangled the note down the stairwell. It said: “We are haggry, if you do not feed us we will die”.
My mum has kept this note for 63 years in her black “essential documents” briefcase, and likes to tell the story over and over again.
3. Get him paint. Tell him it may take a few coats. Get popcorn for yourself
My comment was: How can sunlight reach “behind the mirror?”
Are you familiar with the term FUBAR? It was at 21A with the clue: “Extremely damaged, in military lingo.” According to Wikipedia: It means ‘Fouled Up Beyond All Recognition,” referring to unpaid military personnel with erroneous paperwork. Another version of FUBAR, said to have originated in the military, gives its meaning as “Fucked Up By Assholes in the Rear”. This version has at least surface validity in that it is a common belief among enlistees that most problems are created by the military brass (officers, especially those bearing the rank of general, from one to four stars). This version is also most likely to have had its origin in the U.S. Army, where the senior officers command from the rear, as opposed to the Navy or Air Force, where it is common for generals to command alongside their forces.
Our Dirty Old Man Dept received several complaints about the photo we posted recently of our style consultant Ana with her dog. “C’mon, man,” one read, “can’t you get anything more exciting than that on the topic?” We put Phil on the case and his extensive research (two six-packs) came up with this. (Wow.) Looking good AdA!
Can’t top that as a send-off. See you tomorrow!
The Wellington Files 