When I lived in Rochester NY (the dark years) I took some English courses at U of Rochester. One prof (Joseph Summers) invited our (small) class to his home for dinner one evening. I remember him asking if we knew what poets talk about when they get together. I said “money?” (not kidding) He said they talk about sounds — how words sound.
This poem from yesterday’s Writer’s Almanac is by Marianne Moore and is called “Dock Rats.”
There are human beings who seem to regard the place as craftily
as we do—who seem to feel that it is a good place to come
home to. On what a river; wide—twinkling like a chopped sea under some
of the finest shipping in the
world: the square-rigged four-master, the liner, the battleship, like the two-
thirds submerged section of an iceberg; the tug—strong moving thing,
dipping and pushing, the bell striking as it comes; the steam yacht, lying
like a new made arrow on the
stream; the ferry-boat—a head assigned, one to each compartment, making
a row of chessmen set for play. When the wind is from the east,
the smell is of apples; of hay, the aroma increased and decreased
suddenly as the wind changes;
of rope; of mountain leaves for florists. When it is from the west, it is
an elixir. There is occasionally a parakeet
arrived from Brazil, clasping and clawing; or a monkey—tail and feet
in readiness for an over-
ture. All palms and tail; how delightful! There is the sea, moving the bulk-
head with its horse strength; and the multiplicity of rudders
and propellers; the signals, shrill, questioning, peremptory, diverse;
the wharf cats and the barge dogs—it
is easy to overestimate the value of such things. One does
not live in such a place from motives of expediency
but because to one who has been accustomed to it, shipping is the
most congenial thing in the world.
Marianne Moore was from Missouri and passed away in 1972 at the age of 84. Her dad suffered a psychotic episode and her parents separated before she was born. She never met her father. She attended Bryn Mawr, and, get this — majored in history, economics, and political science. Among numerous other achievements, she won the Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award.
From our You Can’t Make This Stuff Up Dept. You know those six folks who reminded our military not to obey “unlawful” orders? The FBI is investigating them. The claim is that since Trump has never issued an unlawful order, the six were actually telling soldiers to disobey “lawful” orders.
Okay. Let me just make sure I’m clear on this. “Don’t obey unlawful orders” really means “Don’t obey lawful orders.” And that’s treason so they should be put to death.
Got it. Thanks.
At Owl Chatter, we support our staff. So we trudged into Newark to cheer our Sports Consultant Sarah (Fillier) on, as her NY Sirens of the Pro Women’s Hockey League took on the Vancouver Goldeneyes in the home opener in Newark yesterday. What a great game!! The Sirens won 5-1, with SF scoring a gorgeous goal. It was a great scene. We sat behind one of the goals but were able to catch all the action at the other end on the giant screen. At one point the fans in our section started shouting “Cream of Mushroom,” which morphed into “Chicken Noodle.” I was trying to make sense out of what seemed like an unusual home fan tradition when I noticed the Vancouver goalie was named Campbell. The folks right behind us proposed minestrone but it wasn’t taken up. To be honest, Campbell, who let in all five goals, was in the soup all game.
The Sirens play in the Prudential Center, a beautiful arena where the NHL’s Jersey Devils play. The ice is impeccably maintained. A pair of Zambonis groom it in between periods, and play is stopped as necessary to allow the crew to sweep up teeth and body parts that come loose during the course of play.
It was $30 a ticket for great seats and you could park on the street just a few blocks away for free. Can’t beat it for a great game. Here’s a shot of the action Phil got for us, followed by our Sarah, gorgeous as always.
And here is a goldeneye, the inspiration for the Vancouver team name. Fiercely protective, they are a familiar presence along Vancouver’s waterways and coastlines, known for their speed, strength, and synchrony.
Here’s a clue running a little late behind Halloween yesterday. It was at 23D: “Prominent features on goblin sharks.” Answer: NOSES. They are creepy-looking as hell. I’m going to spare you a photo. It’s a rare species of deep-sea shark. Sometimes called a “living fossil,” it is the only extant representative of a lineage some 125 million years old. It’s typically as long as 13 feet when fully grown.
Also never heard of K.T. OSLIN: “1988 Best Country Song Grammy winner for ‘Hold Me.’” Sorry to learn she passed away in 2020 at the age of 78.
There is a small class of jokes we can call “famous last words.” I like them. My two favorites are “I wonder where the mother bear is” and “Watch this!” I made up a new one today! “Laughter is the best cure.”
I read the “Modern Love” column in the Sunday NYT Style section only sporadically. Today’s is by Brent Chaim Spodek. Here is a chunk of it.
The second time I married my wife, she was hooked up to IVs at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan, her skin gray from chemotherapy. I was at our home, 75 miles away, caring for our two small children. I had tremendous help from my mother-in-law, Hazel, who was also giving us her 10-year-old Toyota Corolla.
Hazel thought her daughter’s name should also be on the title. I thought Alison, who had been diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia six months earlier, did not need to be bothered with paperwork.
“It has to be in both of your names,” Hazel said. “I’m not giving the car to just you.”
“Hazel,” I said. “If I were going to leave, I’d have done it already. You think I’m sticking around for the Corolla?”
*******
Alison recovers and the story has a happy ending. Brent is a rabbi and counsels couples preparing to get married. So I guess it makes sense that Alison and Brent work hard at their marriage — they do a lot of serious talking specifically about it.
Linda and I don’t do any of that stuff. I guess we either gave up long ago, or don’t feel the need to “work” at it. I’m too fucking lazy, for one thing. But I don’t mind playing with it. Every so often I will say “We can’t go on like this,” or “This marriage is unbearable,” and it always gets a laugh. Sometimes I say, “You know, we should get married,” and Linda says “We are married.” And I say “You’re kidding!” Never gets old.
There. That’s my Modern Love story.
Phil said he enjoyed shooting actress Zosia MAMET, who was in the puzzle today, making it harder than David would have. He said she has an interesting and honest face.
David is her dad. Her mom is actress Lindsay Crouse. She was born in Vermont, is 37, and went into acting after HS instead of going to college. She’s been married to actor Evan Jonigkeit since 2016. Here’s Ev.
Jets 27, Falcons 24. Could you plotz? It ended on a 56-yard field goal by veteran kicker Nick Folk. But it was backup QB Tyrod Taylor, excelling repeatedly under pressure, who gets the game ball, IMO. A good win.
Soak it in, Baby. This is rare sh*t.
The old Eco major in me was happy to see 33A yesterday: “So-called ‘father of macroeconomics.’” John Maynard KEYNES, of course! Did you know his wife’s name was Candace and their friends called her Candy Keynes. (No it wasn’t.)
But the best clue yesterday was one of the best clues ever. It came at 44A, and kudos to constructor Adrian Johnson: “Musical production that might include grunts, groans, thwops, snorts and barks.” (Thwops!) Yes! It’s my Uncle Morty trying to sing Hava Nagila at his daughter Marlene’s bat mitzvah! No, it’s WHALESONG. Got eleven seconds?
Here’s an exchange that arose:
Anony Mouse said: I think “musical” implies aesthetic intentionality. I wonder if whales are capable of this or if their “song” is us anthropomorphizing what amounts to a basic form of communication.
Dr. Random: I think since part of the purpose is attracting mates (among others), it’s fair to attribute some kind of aesthetic intentionality.
Okay. Thanks guys (or gals).
38D yesterday was “Axolotl lookalikes,” and the answer was NEWTS. But this ruffled the scales of Anony Mouse who said they look nothing alike! Can it be? He or she noted they are both salamanders but insists they look nothing alike. I’m hardly the one to resolve this, but my exhaustive research (you know, a minute or two online) came up with this photo.
Today’s puzzle by the brilliant Natan Last defeated me. I just couldn’t break two small areas. One clue that eluded me was 65A: “Gay rights activist Marsha P. Johnson, for one.” Answer: TRANS ICON. A Jersey girl, Marsha was born in Elizabeth. But she died in NYC at the age of only 46 back in 1992. Here is the first paragraph of her Wikipedia writeup.
Marsha was an American LGBTQ activist, sex worker, and performer. Sometimes known as the “Saint of Christopher Street,” she is considered an important figure in the LGBTQ and transgender rights movements due to her involvement in the Stonewall riots, her work with Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR), and her advocacy for people with AIDS.
She was born Malcolm and first dressed as a girl at the age of 5. She was the drum major for her school’s marching band and joined the Navy but was honorably discharged after she punched a man who tried to sexually assault her. When the Stonewall police raid started Johnson threw a shot glass at a mirror, screaming, “I got my civil rights!” Members of the Gay Activists Alliance later considered this the “shot glass heard around the world.”
Thanks for putting her in the puzzle, Natan. Rest in peace, girl.
It didn’t help that TRANS ICON was crossed by 12D: “First Eurodance hit in the U.S. (1989).” PUMP UP THE JAM. I expect to not know songs often, but when an entire genre eludes me that’s bad. Eurodance? Anyway, I really like it.
Clever clues I also missed were “Chop house?” for DOJO (think karate chops), and “In the majority?” for ADULT. The question marks tip you off that there’s something fishy going on, but gornisht helfn.
OK, Phil. Very pretty. Now just slowly back away and get out of the dojo in one piece.
Let’s end tonight with some art, courtesy of constructor Natan Last. At 26D the clue was “John who painted ‘Backyards, Greenwich Village.’” Answer: SLOAN. Any of you art people hear of him? Bob? It’s from 1914. He was a founder of the Ashcan School of American art. He grew up in Philly and went to Central HS where his classmate was Albert Barnes of the Barnes Foundation with its great art collection. He had a helluva run, way beyond any treatment we could give him here in OC. He met his wife Dolly in a brothel, every man’s dream. (Just kidding, probably.) They were married for over 40 years until her death. Then he married a former student, 40 years younger than him, every man’s dream. (Just kidding, maybe.)
Oy, enough nonsense!! See you tomorrow.
The Wellington Files 