Meet Buddy, the lettuce-eating dog. He’s buddies with Owl Chatter friend Pennsylvania Nancy (and Eric) and he’s in a beauty contest. Should be a slam dunk, no? Got my vote.
David Brooks had so many zingers yesterday. Trump has really made him jaunty. I sent this one to Frank Bruni: “One of the reasons MAGA conservatives admire Putin is that they see him as an ally against their ultimate enemy — the ethnic studies program at Columbia.”
I also liked: “As America withdraws its security umbrella, nations around the world, from Poland to even Japan, will conclude that they need nuclear weapons. What could go wrong?”
Last one, I promise: “I don’t care if Abraham Lincoln himself walked into the White House in 2029, no foreign leader can responsibly trust a nation that is perpetually four years away from electing another authoritarian nihilist.”
That last one reminded me of when Bill Parcells became the coach of the Jets and Linda insanely grabbed at a smidgeon of optimism. Not me. I said, “God can take over as coach and they’d still go 5 and 11.”
In yesterday’s puzzle, for the clue “Bench press?,” the answer was PUT ME IN, COACH. Great answer but the clue seemed a bit clunky to me. It’s a guy on the bench pressing the coach to put him in.
Commenter PH noted: “Leroy Hoard was a former running back (1990-99 Browns/Vikings). He once said, ‘Coach, if you need 1 yard, I’ll get you 3 yards. If you need 5 yards, I’ll get you 3 yards.’ I don’t why I love that quote so much, but I do.” [OC note: LH played college ball at UMich.]
Egs had an alternate clue: The response to “Sir, we are able to offer you an upgrade to first class. You’ll be sitting next to Marjorie Taylor Green.” PUT ME IN COACH.
He was also “tickled to report that at my granddaughter’s Friday assembly, a fourth grader recited Pi to 50 decimal places! The sequence was projected onto a wall behind him so that we could verify his recitation as it went. “
Happy Pi Day folks (yesterday, 3/14). Einstein’s birthday too, of course.
An odd flare up occurred over REOS. Rex started it:
As clued, REOS is terrible (16D: “Classic pickup lines, familiarly”). REO is a “line” (of motor vehicle), but REOS are not “lines,” just as FORD is a line of car but FORDS are not “lines” (they’re part of the same, single line: FORD).
Then, Jim M wrote:
I think the lines on the REO Speedwagon pickup are the flair of the fenders, etc. Classic design.
Anonymous I: Absolutely not. There has to be correspondence between clue and answer. You’re talking about a “feature” of the REOS. The clue is saying the lines “are” the REOS.
Anonymous 2: I disagree. The most interesting clues are not A = B, but ones that make you think, “Ah, that’s what they meant.” REO Speedwagons were designed with memorable body lines, as opposed to, say, a new utilitarian looking Ford F-150.
Anonymous 1: Anonymous 2, there’s no basis for disagreement. You’re simply wrong. “Lines” is the main part of speech in the clue. It’s a plural noun. So the answer has to be a plural noun that = “lines.” So REOS *are* the “lines.” Clue would have to be rewritten to have your meaning.
Jim M again: If the constructor used “lines” to mean vehicle models or manufacturers, then the constructor erred in the verb tense. If (design) lines were meant, then I believe that “REOs” works just fine as an answer. The plural works here as there were several classic REO Speedwagon designs.
[What?]
Let me tell you something folks. As a Jets fan, I don’t need another reason to hate Bill Belichick. But have you seen his girlfriend? He’s 72 years old. She can’t even spell her name: Jordon. She’s exactly one-third his age.
Just kidding. Have a good time, kids. Life’s too short.
In today’s puzzle, at 26A, “Irish actor who was nominated for a Golden Globe for 2023’s Saltburn” was BARRY KEOUGHAN. That was rough. I needed a lot of crosses. But I should have remembered him from Banshees. It netted him a well-deserved Oscar nom.
In one scenes he professes his love for Kerry Condon and she so sweetly has to say no.
Here’s Kerry’s Criterion Closet video. Rex called it his “favorite of all time—charming and funny and sincere, full of genuine, unaffected love of movies—a real model of the form.”
Do you know about the Criterion Closet? I was today years old when I learned about it. Here — this is from Wikipedia:
The Criterion Closet is a film closet owned and stocked by The Criterion Collection, a home video distribution company based in NYC with a specific emphasis on licensing, restoring, and distributing “important classic and contemporary films.” Located in their office, the film closet contains every title distributed by Criterion, totaling over 1,700 films. It was formerly a “disused bathroom” before being re-tooled to a film closet.
In 2010, director Guillermo del Toro visited the Criterion office, during which he was filmed making his selections from the Criterion Closet; there, he made picks such as The Red Shoes by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, Crumb by Terry Zwigoff, and Paths of Glory by Stanley Kubrick. Since then, Criterion has filmed over two hundred individuals visiting and making their own selections from the Criterion Closet in a video series called Closet Picks; past visitors have included Bill Hader, Martin Scorsese, Park Chan-wook, Cate Blanchett, Bong Joon-ho, Ayo Edebiri, and many others.
Here’s a nice shot of CB. Thanks, Phil!
At 24A, “Drink akin to a Moscow mule” was DARKNSTORMY. Wow, five consonants in a row. It reminded many of the famous worst first sentence “It was a dark and stormy night. . . . ” Up until this year, the English Dept of San Jose State U held the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction contest, in which contestants had to compose the worst first sentence of a novel. The contest was started in 1982 by Prof. Scott E. Rice of the department and was named after Edward George Bulwer-Lytton who wrote the novel Paul Clifford (1830) that opens with:
It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.
The first year of the competition attracted just three entries, but it went public the next year, received media attention, and attracted 10,000 entries. It expanded into subcategories, such as detective fiction, romance novels, Western novels, and purple prose. Sentences that were notable but not quite bad enough to win were awarded Dishonorable Mentions.
This is the winner from 2023: She was a beautiful woman; more specifically she was the kind of beautiful woman who had an hourlong skincare routine that made her look either ethereal or like a glazed donut, depending on how attracted to her you were.
A Lyttle Lytton contest is still in operation. It was started in 2001 by a writer, Adam Cadre. Entries are limited to 25 words. Here’s the winner for 2024, by Erin McCourt: He slammed the door in my face, loud and sharp, like an acoustic lemon.
The puzzle today is by Ryan McCarty, and there are many fresh, clever clues/answers in it:
First, 2D and 3D, right next to each other, are AMNESIAC and WHYWORRY?
35D: “Whiny comeback to a certain parent.” Answer: BUT DAD.
14D: “Code group.” Answer: ZONING BOARD. Get it? Building codes.
18D: “Something legally defined in the U.S. as affecting fewer than 200,000 people.” RARE DISEASE.
7A: “Cozier alternatives to motels.” Answer: BANDBS. You usually see it as B&Bs. It’s called an ampersandwich, according to Rex.
At 41D, “‘If you squint, maybe’” was a great clue for SORTA.
Whew. That’s enough nonsense for me, for now. Kerry’s going to send us off today.
Thanks Babe. George! Get the girl a Diet Pepsi – where are your manners?
See you tomorrow, Chatterheads.
The Wellington Files 