Hall of Fame ice hockey goalie Ken Dryden died on Friday at the age of 78. Cancer slipped one between his pads. I remember when I was at Brandeis the Bruins dominated play until Montreal brought Dryden up from the minors in early March (’71). He played in six regular season games, allowing only nine goals and then carried the Canadiens to the Cup in the playoffs.
Dryden was 6′ 4″. Phil Esposito scored 76 goals that year, but when Dryden stopped a shot of his at point-blank range in the playoffs, Espo shouted at Dryden, “You thieving giraffe!” and smashed his stick against the glass. Dryden later said he could see defeat in the Bruins’ faces after that.
Dryden earned a degree in history at Cornell where he played college hockey and a law degree at McGill. He was a Nader Raider as a law student. Later, he was a member of the Canadian Parliament for three terms, and wrote several books, including a highly regarded memoir “The Game.” He is survived by his wife Lynda, a sister, two children and four grandchildren, none of whom were ever able to put anything past him (well, maybe Lynda, now and then).
As if falling off the wall weren’t indignity enough, a giant Humpty Dumpty that was part of a miniature golf course in Cape May, New Jersey, since 1964 was ripped off of its stand recently, vandalized, and left for dead several blocks away. The vicious attack was caught on tape and police are seeking the two young male perps.
Officer Schneidermann of the Cape May Police said it was difficult informing Mr. Dumpty’s wife of the incident. “He loved sitting on that wall,” Mrs. D. said between sobs. “Everybody loves him. Who would do such a thing?” Fortunately, he only suffered some damage to his hand and his hat. He is expected to be repaired and eventually returned to his favorite spot overlooking the 14th hole.
Phil was on the scene for photographs, but warns readers to look away if they are squeamish. It’s pretty gruesome.
Per Owl Chatter: Trump To Award Charlie Kirk Presidential Medal of Freedom Posthumously Despite Not Knowing What Posthumously Means.
This poem is called “poetry readings.” It’s by Charles Bukowski and is from today’s Writer’s Almanac.
poetry readings have to be some of the saddest
damned things ever,
the gathering of the clansmen and clanladies,
week after week, month after month, year
after year,
getting old together,
reading on to tiny gatherings,
still hoping their genius will be
discovered,
making tapes together, discs together,
sweating for applause
they read basically to and for
each other,
they can’t find a New York publisher
or one
within miles,
but they read on and on
in the poetry holes of America,
never daunted,
never considering the possibility that
their talent might be
thin, almost invisible,
they read on and on
before their mothers, their sisters, their husbands,
their wives, their friends, the other poets
and the handful of idiots who have wandered
in
from nowhere.
I am ashamed for them,
I am ashamed that they have to bolster each other,
I am ashamed for their lisping egos,
their lack of guts.
if these are our creators,
please, please give me something else:
a drunken plumber at a bowling alley,
a prelim boy in a four rounder,
a jock guiding his horse through along the
rail,
a bartender on last call,
a waitress pouring me a coffee,
a drunk sleeping in a deserted doorway,
a dog munching a dry bone,
an elephant’s fart in a circus tent,
a 6 p.m. freeway crush,
the mailman telling a dirty joke
anything
anything
but
these.
In the puzzle today, at 16D the clue was “Vices that are best abandoned,” and the answer was NASTY HABITS. You have any? Here’s MJ, 54 years ago, telling us about his. (He drinks tea at three, for one thing. Horrors.)
So I asked the folks at the Dull Men’s Club (UK) why taking tea at three would be a nasty habit. Turns out back then (1971) tea was always taken at four.
Phil!! What the hell did you say to these ladies?? Just back away calmly and run.
At 14A the answer was WEN TAPE, and it made no sense to a bunch of solvers for a while. The clue was “Come unglued.” What?? That makes even less sense. Wait a minute: WENT APE. Okay. Never mind.
Those types of answers are sometimes called DOOKs. It’s from a long time ago when one poor solver could not figure out what a dook was and why it was the answer until he realized it was DO OK.
Here’s what a dook looks like. Not pretty.
At 20D, “Dance pioneer Duncan” was, of course, ISADORA. She died a terrible death when she was only 50, riding in a convertible with a long scarf that got caught in the car’s wheel well and caused her to be pulled from the vehicle and break her neck. The scarf was a gift from her friend Mary Desti, who was the mom of Preston Sturges, the filmmaker.
There was much in her life that was tragic as well: two of her children drowned when the car they were in with their nanny ran off the road and into the Seine. Desperate for another child, Isadora had another son, only to see him die shortly after birth. For fans of trivia, the father of her second child was a son of Isaac Singer — the sewing machine dude (not the Yiddish writer). Isadora was cremated and her ashes rest next to those of her children.
We watched Jeopardy! last night to see how crossword ace Paolo Pasco would fare. He won! Came out with $20,009. He was struggling a bit in the first half, but they just about handed it to him in the second half, making one of the categories “anagrams.” Not really fair — he’s a wordplay ace. Anyway, he raced through it and there was no looking back. He nailed Final Jep for the last nail in the coffin, or icing on the cake if you prefer the less macabre. Looking forward to catching him again tonight.
See you tomorrow! Thanks for dropping in.
The Wellington Files 