A couple of items from Frank Bruni’s “For the Love of Sentences” feature. First, In The Seattle Times, Danny Westneat sympathized with Senator Lisa Murkowski, who said she felt “cheated” by Trump’s reneging on a deal with her: “If only there had been some clue, some sign, that a politician who cheated with his charity, cheated on taxes, cheated on his wife, cheats at golf, cheated his contractors, cheated his customers and then attempted the biggest cheat of all — on the American election system — might eventually work his way around to cheating you, too?”
And there was one about Jack Draper, the very handsome British tennis star. Sam Knight in the New Yorker took note of how subdued British audiences are. After Draper closed out one game, they “erupted in polite conversation.”
He’s single, ladies, and not gay, as far as we know, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
The theme of yesterday’s puzzle was Open Seas, meant to focus on the letter C. So all of the theme answers were limited to words starting with C, e.g., Caitlin Clark, cash crop, card counting, and Coca Cola Classic. It was Caitlin Clark’s first appearance in the NYTXW. But, get this — even more impressive IMO — every single clue, across and down, started with the letter C! 78 clues. This trick was handled so smoothly that I didn’t even notice it until it was pointed out by Rex in his blog. Bravo Brian Callahan. Mr. C.
At 61D, for TAUT, the clue was ‘Completely stretched.” Egs noted: “I’m stretching myself very thin these days, but then I’m self-TAUT.”
Reminds me of when Tom and Ray of Car Talk asked a caller how long he was unemployed. When the caller said he was a consultant, Ray said “Oh, so you’re self-unemployed.”
Some of you will recall that as you were mourning friends who were victims of AIDS, many churches “reasoned” that it showed God hates gays. In 1993, the Reverend Billy Graham asked an audience rhetorically, “Is AIDS a judgment of God?” He then answered his own question: “I could not say for sure, but I think so.”
Gotta love that he “can’t say for sure.” The man is humble. Of course, it’s a statement that is so perfectly idiotic, it’s surprising the man could tie his shoes.
In any event, it’s pretty clear now that God hates Christian girls. How else to explain the recent deadly floods in Texas? Among the dead were 27 campers and staff members at Camp Mystic, a century-old Christian summer camp for girls.
The heat wave has been unbearable up here. Maybe this poem from last Friday’s Writer’s Almanac will help. It’s by Terri Kirby Erickson and is called “Ice Cream Truck.”
From blocks away we heard the mechanical
music the ice cream truck chimed all over
the neighborhood, calling to kids like the Pied
Piper as we darted into our houses begging
our parents for change to buy Nutty Buddies
and banana popsicles, orange pushups
and ice cream sandwiches. Once the truck
stopped on our street, we swooped like seagulls
around the open window so the ice cream man
could take our money and hand out whatever
treats we asked for, which were always better
than we remembered from the last time his boxy,
hand-painted truck rolled around—the cold,
creamy confections freezing our tongues and
sliding down our parched throats as fast as we
could eat them—the taste of summer lingering
just long enough to make us wish for more.
31A: “Hamlet’s ill-fated love interest.” OPHELIA, of course.
Jesus! — get a grip, girl.
Headline from The Onion’s sports section:
Moment Of Silence At Wrigley Field Followed By Hot Dog Race
That will have to do for today. The heat has knocked me out. See you next time!
The Wellington Files 