The Wellington Files

  • The Wheat Fields and the Clotheslines

    GANDHI was an answer in the puzzle yesterday (“Surname of two Indian prime ministers”). Per the late radio personality Larry Josephson: “Discussing the Mahatma with a three-year-old is like taking GANDHI from a baby.”

    On the answer COCOA, with apologies to Ogden Nash:

    When it comes to drink
    I like to think
    That Jason Momoa
    Enjoys his COCOA

    Yesterday’s puzzle played with the expression “part of speech,” and had three theme answers that were “part” of a famous speech. ASK NOT WHAT; HAVE A DREAM; and FOUR SCORE AND. Get it?

    For my wordplay today, I used IGLOO, DARN IT ALL, and ANORAK. There was also at 62A “Multiple-choice choices, maybe,” with the answer ABORC. (Get it? — “A, B, or C”) It was roundly condemned by Rex and in many comments, but I have no problem with it.

    What to say when you don’t want to have to repeat yourself: ASK NOT WHAT.

    DARNITALL: Medication effective in preventing the loss of sewing skills. (Stronger version is DAMITOL.)

    IGLOO: For repairs to your IG.

    ABORC and ANORAK walk into a bar . . . .

    At 34A, a “low-lying landform” was a GLEN. Rex took the opportunity to share this great version of a classic with us.

    There is a beautiful documentary out there called I’ll Be Me, about Campbell’s final tour, lovingly assisted by his kids while struggling with Alzheimer’s.

    The first NBA game I ever attended was back in the early 1960’s. I remember sitting behind one of the baskets, on the floor level. Richie Guerin, who played his college ball at Iona and is in the NBA Hall of Fame, starred for the Knicks and scored 40 that night. We were up against Philly with Wilt Chamberlain. The Knicks lost but only in double overtime. Hella good game.

    Of course, we’ll be pulling for Brunson and the boys to upset whoever comes out of the West. First time in the Finals since 1999.

    The very pretty Knicks City Dancers will be leading the cheers.

    On our local community website, a woman named Gina R. complained about a gardener she used. He sold her five shrubs and planted them in her front yard and guaranteed them for a year. But when three of them died a few months later, he refused to take her calls.

    I responded: “You’ve been bushwacked!! It’s highway shrubbery!! Next time, hedge your bets. You’ve got a good case against him, but the shrubs will have to testify.”

    You know, we crossword people are a serious introspective group. So, to no surprise, when GREED appeared as an answer in Saturday’s puzzle as one of the seven sins, Commenter Gary was moved to assess his personal chances of getting into Heaven based on his sin “scorecard.” Here’s what he came up with:


    1. Pride – I’m pretty sure I rock.
    2. Envy – Schadenfreude is my middle name.
    3. Wrath – I think I’m OK unless bringing all my skills at mockery up against the Anonymoti is considered wrathful, but in my defense, as a group they seem to be bad at reading and logic.
    4. Gluttony – I’m betting everyone is doomed on this one. [Burp!]
    5. Lust – Seriously, they should take this off the list if they’re going to keep making women look so pretty.
    6. Sloth – One word … La-Z-Boy.
    7. Greed – Oddly, I think this is the one sin I’m not dealing with as all I need in life is what I’ve already got, well, except for health insurance. I don’t really need more, but I am fine with my enemies having less. {See envy.}

    Here’s a song by The Feelies, a Jersey post-punk, “jangle pop” band that is still around after disbanding and popping back up a while ago. Grows on you.

    If you still believe in justice, you have to think Jared will be facing one long hard afterlife. Because he’s sure not getting any payback down here on the planet. AOL shared this shot of Ivanka showing off in a mini. Hubba hubba. [See Gary, on “lust,” above.]

    She’s wearing a Donde Esteban Magdalena Silk Mini Dress, priced at $695. (Mention Owl Chatter, and you can have it for $750.)

    Reports that the DOJ is drumming up fakackta charges against E. Jean Carroll should surprise no one. That’s the current state of the Department of Justice in our poor, reeling country. Clearly, any attorney still working for that clown car either (1) needs his/her job desperately to support his/her family, or (2) hasn’t a single shred of integrity left.

    Headline from The Onion:

    DOJ Launches Criminal Investigation Into All Women

    Here are the first few lines of a poem that did not make it past our guard puppies. Thanks, poochies!

    The future that never happens
    is the one that makes us do
    what we do while we are waiting
    for what is never going to come

    And here’s one that got by them. It’s by Maxine Kumin called “At The Pitch.” It was in the Writer’s Almanac on Sunday.

    If I could only live at the pitch
    that is near madness, Eberhart wrote

    but there was his wife Betty hanging onto
    his coattails for dear life to the end of her life.

    No one intervened when my mother’s brother’s
    wife ran off with the new young rabbi

    every woman in the congregation had a crush on.
    They rose unleashed, fleeing west

    into the sooty sky over Philadelphia
    in a pillar of fire, at the pitch that is near madness

    touching down in the outskirts of Pittsburgh.
    Cleveland. Chicago. O westward!

    O fornication! I was sixteen.
    Eberhart had written his poem before

    he sailed off to World War II and a boy
    had just put his tongue in my mouth

    which meant he could make
    me do anything. No one

    holding onto his coattails, no one onto my skirt
    until my father switched on the back porch light.

    Well, if that porch light is on, we might as well say goodnight. We’re shooting down to DC to celebrate Linda’s birthday from Sat to Tues. Catching the Gnats in action against the Pods on Sunday. Plus artwork by Norrie’s cousin’s mom in the National Museum of Women in the Arts, Shirley Gorelick. How neat is that? (Hi Nor!) See you next time, Chatterheads!

  • Hello, Greenland!

    The very first down clue in the puzzle yesterday was “Seaweed in an underwater forest,” and the answer was KELP. Commenter Lynn posted: I’ll have the SALAD PLATE with LEMON slices and hold the KELP. (All of the capitalized words were in the puzzle.) I had to add: I took my cousin Estelle’s insistent complaining about her iodine deficiency as a cry for kelp.

    Crossworld lost one of its own on Wednesday, Manny Nosowsky, 94, who died in SF. For health reasons, he retired at age 51 after 20 years as a urologist and became a crossword junkie. He holds the record for most puzzles published in the Times: 254. Eight reach back to the reign of Eugene T. Maleska, Will Shortz’s predecessor. Shortz called Manny a “national treasure.”

    A sample of his work: Classic saucy love song? AIOLI HAVE EYES FOR YOU.

    Manny’s wife Debby said that being appreciated by crossword colleagues was more meaningful to him than anything he had accomplished in medicine. He retired from puzzle-making in 2010, which may explain why I never heard of him. He is survived by Debby, their two children, and five grandchildren.

    Manny had a sense of humor long before his puzzle constructing days. When he was a urologist, patients would thank him and call him a great doctor. He would answer: “Please tell my mother.”

    Manny was buried six down and five across.

    I scored a compliment. The puzzle’s theme was HOTHOTHOT and one of the theme answers was GHOSTPEPPERS. It led EasyEd to share this story:

    The hottest pepper I’ve ever had was by surprise in a salsa-type snack bowl in Yucatán. A chip-full nearly burned my face off and our waiter seeing my distress grabbed two bottles of beer from in front of bewildered bar patrons and ran to our table to give me some relief. I can’t even imagine what GHOSTPEPPERS would have done.

    So I noted: Some people will do anything for free beer. I tip my cap to you, sir.

    And Les S. More wrote: Liveprof. [That’s me.] That may be your funniest quip yet.

    I think that’s a compliment, right?

    The phrase “Give me one reason” played a role in yesterday’s brilliant puzzle. It’s also the name of this great Tracy Chapman song.

    For the clue “We’re toast” the answer was ITSALLOVER. Son Volt chose this version to share, which was new to me. That’s Van on vocal.

    People don’t want to get divorced. It’s wrenching, It’s expensive. It can leave scars. So they’ll look for anything to grasp on to to avoid it. In some cases, all they ask from their partner is one shred of human decency. Give me one reason. But the schmuck can’t even muster that up. Good f*cking riddance.

    I had some fun with today’s puzzle. At 11D, for “Yes, Captain!” the answer was AYE AYE.

    Sailor, find out what the last two letters in the fiftieth state are.

    AYE AYE, Captain.

    Did you find out?

    Aye Aye.

    OK, what are they?

    Aye Aye.

    The last two letters: You got them?

    Aye Aye

    So what are they?

    Aye Aye

    Tell me what they are.

    Aye Aye

    What are they?

    Aye Aye

    (Continue until Trump leaves office.)

    OMG, break up the Gnats!! After taking two of three from Los Bravos in Atlanta, they cruised into Cleveland and pounded out six home runs in a 10-2 win. Kinehora — above .500 at last. Keep it up, boys!

    Here’s Aussie Curtis Mead. He popped two of them. Bald as a baby’s bottom under his cap. (That may not be the expression.)

    Per economist Paul Krugman: On Memorial Day the NYT published an article with the headline “Trump is the only person who can save America, according to his cabinet.” It offered a quantitative analysis of senior-official sycophancy. At cabinet meetings, on average, at least one of every six sentences either flattered Trump, gave him credit, or criticized his political opponents. This “Dear Leader” treatment is unprecedented: no previous US president has been showered with this kind of obsequiousness and deification.

    Tbh, I’m surprised to hear they found 5 out of 6 sentences to not be insane flattery.

    Per historian Heather Cox Richardson: “Trump’s social media account over the weekend was active. He twice posted an image of himself leering over Greenland with the caption ‘Hello, Greenland!’ and repeated suggestions that ‘China Loves Trump.’ He posted an AI image of Representative Ro Khanna (D-CA) as a devil (I think), calling him a ‘SLEAZEBAG’ and a ‘Dumocrat,’ and an image of eight lawmakers or officials in orange jumpsuits (except for Obama’s tan one), claiming they had ‘Caused tremendous damage through Weaponization!’ And he posted a number of images of colorful fountains.”

    His poll numbers are way down, but one-third of the country is still with him, including around 75% of the GOP.

    Frank Julian Page of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) shared the following excellent idea with the membership:

    I always seem to dribble water over myself when having a sip in bed, so I decided to invest in a rabbit water dispenser with a fantastic outcome, no more wet me. Best £3 I’ve ever spent.

    BronzeGoose: What’s your technique? Do you lick the ball bearing in the end, do you push it up just enough to let the water out, or do you use brute force and squeeze the bottle for a bigger sip?

    Frank: Right, here’s the thing. I was tapping the ball bearing with my tongue and getting little sips but then I worked out push once and suck and you get a nice drip of water.

    Laura Wilson: I can’t decide if you’re mad or a genius.

    Sarah Wallis: Do you hang it up on your headboard?

    Frank: I tried but had a slight weep on my pillow.

    Simon Marshall: What is “rabbit water?”

    Chris Corlett: You don’t want to know.

    Marc Reford: Brilliant idea, I’m always parched after a few spins on my wheel!

    I learned what a tup is from Paul Woodhouse of the Club. It’s a ram, you know, the male version of a ewe. He posted:

    Toilet doors at Black Sheep Brewery Visitor Centre in Masham. Would you choose correctly?

    Charles Kadoch: Everyone who’s made it past nursery age shouldn’t have any issues with “animals from the farm.”

    Geraldine Curtis: Fine for everyone except people who are illiterate, have learning disabilities, are tourists from overseas or (barely) have English as a second language.

    Jessica Allyn:  I think the pictures would help most people who are illiterate or don’t speak English.

    Mark Goodge: There was a gundog-themed bar near where I grew up which labelled the toilet doors “Pointers” and “Setters.”

    Tim Robinson: At a music-themed pub I was once forced to choose between the Olivia Newton Johns and the Elton Johns.

    See you tomorrow! Thanks for popping in.

  • Frank Remarks

    If you think the Republicans have finally grown a pair and will challenge you-know-whom on his slush fund and IRS scam, let us at Owl Chatter be the first to wish you a safe trip back to Earth. They may snip around the edges a bit, but will essentially give him what he wants and he’ll give them sh*t for even that much “revolt.” The perfidy is bone deep.

    And you can take that to the bank, because when it comes to political analysis, my record is, well, can it be less than zero? OK, so zero.

    We lost probably the funniest man ever to walk the halls of Congress. And one of the best. At a Town Hall meeting during one of Obama’s runs for the White House, a woman asked Barney Frank some insane, hate-soaked question about Obama being a Muslim. Frank replied: “Madam, talking to you would be like talking to a table,” and moved on to the next questioner.

    Barney died on Tuesday at his home in Ogunquit, Maine. He was 86. He served his district in suburban Boston for 32 years starting in 1981, and was the first House member to come out as a gay man. “Prejudice is based on ignorance,” he said. “And the best way to counterbalance it is with a living example, with reality.” He insisted that his male partner be invited to all events to which the spouses of other representatives were invited. In 2012, at age 72, he married Jim Ready and became the first sitting member of Congress to wed someone of the same sex.

    Republican Dick Armey referred to Barney in a radio interview as Barney Fag. (I know: hysterically witty, right?) When a hooha erupted, Armey fake-apologized claiming it was an innocent mispronunciation. Here’s how Barney assessed the “apology.” “I turned to my own expert,” he said. “My mother, who reports that in 59 years of marriage, no one ever introduced her as Elsie Fag.”

    When the time came for him to retire, he looked at the bright side: “I don’t even have to pretend to try to be nice to people I don’t like.”

    We are going to claim him as ours on two accounts: He was a Jewish boy and from Jersey: Bayonne. He is survived by his husband Jim, a brother, and two sisters. If you still harbor a glimmer of hope for our poor beaten-up country, it is surely at least in part because it is capable of producing men like Barney Frank.

    Rest in peace, Barney.

    Kameron Austin Collins is one of my favorite constructors. His puzzle yesterday really made me put my nose to the MARLSTONE to solve. Wait, what? It’s a “Clay-and-calcium-carbonate mix used in cement making.” Of course.

    Other neat clues included:

    “They might be settled atop stools” for BAR BETS. I tried barflys after seeing that rear ends didn’t fit.

    “Walk on water?” for GANGPLANK.

    “A boxer’s might knock you out.” DOGBREATH. Ha!

    “Ancient collection of Hindu hymns.” RIG VEDA. Ouch!

    “Magpie lookalike with black-and-white plumage.” MUDLARK.

    KAC is gay, but must have an eye for the pretty girls too, because he included PAULINA (“Swedish American model Porizkova”), who, Rex told us, was married to the late Ric Ocasek of The Cars. They met filming the video for the song “Drive,” which features her. They married in ’89, had two sons, and split in 2017. But, get this — In 2019, while caring for Ocasek following surgery, Porizkova found him dead in his home. Don’t you hate when that happens? They were still working out the divorce and he had written her and the boys out of his will. Ouch! A court battle resulted in her getting her share of his estate as prescribed under state (NY) law. Whatever. Here are, first, Paulina in her younger days, and then the video.

    “Jazz drummer DeRosa” was CLEM, but for us non-Jazz folks, Rex recalled a different drumming CLEM — Clem Burke of Blondie. We seem to be back in that era musically today and this tune shows off his skills:

    It’s a thing in baseball now for players to have walk-up songs, i.e., songs that get played over the sound system as they step up to the plate. For Jacob Young of the Gnats, it’s “Forever Young.” But it’s not Dylan’s. Too bad. Here’s Bob’s.

    May you grow up to be righteous
    May you grow up to be true
    May you always know the truth
    And see the light surrounding you
    May you always be courageous
    Stand upright and be strong
    May you stay forever young.

    May your hands always be busy
    May your feet always be swift
    May you have a strong foundation
    When the winds of changes shift
    May your heart always be joyful
    And may your song always be sung
    May you stay forever young

    Happy Birthday Bob Dylan: 85 years old today. Kinehora.

    Speaking of the Gnats: they giveth and they taketh away. We watched them blow a heart-wrenching nail biter in eleven innings in Atlanta Friday night. The Braves turned a one-run lead over to their vaunted bullpen, but right after the announcers told us that Suarez had given up only one run in 23 appearances, i.e., “Abandon all hope, ye who enter the eighth inning,” CJ Abrams turned on an inside pitch and launched it into the seats. All tied up! In the tenth, Abrams again came through knocking in two with a one-out triple. But I got a bad feeling when he was stranded on third. Sure enough, the Braves tied it in the bottom of the tenth and won it in the eleventh. D’oh!

    But after that heartache Friday night, Jake Irvin pitched five no-hit innings on Saturday and the pen held on for a one-hit 2-0 shutout on Saturday. All is forgiven!! I don’t usually enjoy roller coasters, but this one is fun. CJ is from Georgia, and his parents and sister were in the stands. Sweet. This older photo from his San Diego days includes his girlfriend too, with the long curls. (We featured CJ himself in an earlier post. We’re not going to repeat it: who does he think he is — Taylor? Armas?)

    Today’s puzzle included the SAVE THE CHILDREN foundation in one of its clues, and NHL star Connor MCDAVID. Answers also included MOLEMAN (“Supervillain in “Fantastic Four” comics”), NOIRE, and SPAY.

    So I posted the following for the gang:

    My buddy who’s half Scottish and half Jewish wears a Star of MCDAVID around his neck.

    MOLEMAN: What we call my dermatologist.

    Rule #1 at the ashram: NOIRE

    ‘Sfree? No, ‘SPAY

    Many years ago, I was speaking with a friend at some event and noticed he was wearing a beautiful tie. It had colorful little children floating around on a dark-blue background. I complimented him on it, and he said it was his SAVE THE CHILDREN tie: For a $300 donation, he received it as a thank-you gift. “Well, that’s very generous of you and it’s a beautiful tie,” I told him.

    Just a few days later, we took a family trip down to DC. As we strolled along the streets near the Smithsonian, I noticed a souvenir table piled high with ties. One caught my eye: it was similar to my friend’s tie, only the figures of the children were larger. A sign on the table said: Ties: $5 each. I pointed to the tie and said, “So, this tie costs $5?” He said, Yes, and I bought it. I call it my “Save the Money” tie.

    Speaking of DC (what, is today “segue day” or something?), this Memorial Day note is from historian Heather Cox Richardson and pretty much sums it all up:

    “President Donald J. Trump’s proposed triumphal arch would sit at a rotary on the Virginia side of the Arlington Memorial Bridge between Arlington National Cemetery and the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C.

    “The proposed arch obscures the Lincoln Memorial, built to honor the president who steered the country safely through the Civil War, but perfectly frames Arlington House, the mansion built by enslaved Americans and once owned by Confederate General Robert E. Lee. The arch does not frame the nation’s honored dead, but frames instead the home of the man who led the armies of the Confederacy that killed them.”

    Which reminds me: we celebrated Bachrach Day this week: May 18th. It was 55 years ago on May 18th that I flunked my draft physical, under the guidance of good Samaritan David Bachrach. The 18th is one day after Caity’s birthday, and one day before my sister Bonnie’s, aleha hashalom. Caity just turned 40; Bonnie would have been 85. Caity still looks like a high school girl to me. Bonnie, too, to the very end: forever young.

    See you tomorrow!

  • Who Picked Up The Czech?

    Hey, GOP Congress — let’s just carve out, say, $1,000 from the national fisc, all twenties, and give the rest to Trump. Deal?

    Kudos to the great skaters of the Montreal Victoire for claiming the Walter Cup against Ottawa last night, worthy opponents. It was a great year for the league. How great? Well, it’s expanding from 8 teams all the way up to twelve, including new skaters in Detroit. Will have to time a visit to Sam et al to take in a game next year. Just a shame our Sarah’s Sirens fell just a smidge short of a playoff spot. Next year for sure, babe!

    We asked our style and culture consultant de Armas about Miranda KERR, who was in the puzzle today, boringly clued with “Model Miranda,” and she reamed us out!! “It took you idiots over a thousand posts to come up with her!!??” Ana asked. “Get Phil on it right away — you’ll plotz.”

    She was right.

    Miranda is 43 and has four kids. She was married to actor Orlando Bloom and had a son with him who’s 15 now. After they split amicably, she married billionaire Snapchat CEO Evan Spiegel with whom she’s had three sons, the youngest of which turned two in January. She’s an Aussie.

    Nothing major to play with from the puzzle today. I came up with:

    WREAKS stinks.

    What Mickey wears when he’s cross-dressing: MINISKIRT. [Get it? Think mice.]

    How to greet the great Spanish surrealist: Hello DALI.

    I loved one that egs came up with yesterday. The clue was “Biting” and the answer was ACERB.

    Per egs: ACERB and a Croat walk into a bar . . . .

    I drew on my inner Carl and tacked on: “Ha! Did they order a Black Russian? Who picked up the Czech?”

    Two visitors to the puzzle yesterday were the great John CLEESE, whom I hadn’t seen there before, which is surprising given his three E’s, and CLARA Bow, the silent film star, and a Brooklyn girl.

    Well, we’re about a third of the way through the baseball season (50 games or so) and our Gnats are at 25-25, tied with the Phils and ahead of the Mets. We love the new manager, Blake Lively, or whatever the hell his name is. And get this — they lead all of MLB in runs scored per game. Ha cha cha! (Over 5.5 — almost a half run more than the Dodgers.) Kinehora. Just need to tighten up the fielding and get the pitching to simmer down, esp the starters.

    It’s been a fun season so far. We’ll be catching them against the Pods a week from Sunday, and against the Royals later in June. Parking costs more than the tickets down there. I found a good deal via Spot Hero for just $14 only about a mile away from the stadium. But we’ll be taking the Metro for the Sunday game. Got our Senior Metro discount cards — just have to figure out how to use them again.

    Here’s CJ Abrams, the shortstop who’s making everyone forget Trea Turner.

    From the Owl Chatter You-Can’t-Make-This-Stuff-Up Dept: This headline is from the NY Times, not The Onion.

    Tennessee Calls Off Lethal Injection After Staff Can’t Find a ‘Suitable Vein’

    Oy.

    There is a big soft spot in my heart for nurses. (Hi Caity!) So here’s a poem by one. It’s called “Observations of an OB/GYN Nurse” and is by Lois Parker Edstrom. It’s from today’s Writer’s Almanac.

     In memory of Dr. Tom Critchfield

    The babies, CEOs of his life,
    set the schedule, write the script.

    They arrive in predawn hours
    and the middle of the afternoon

    unaware of an overflowing
    waiting room or his need for a few

    hours of uninterrupted sleep.
    The police recognize his car,

    escort him to the hospital
    for those middle of the night calls.

    Surgery, lunch in the hospital cafeteria,
    then office hours where the babies,

    bundled in mother’s arms,
    check in for a six-week visit

    peaceful and slumbering, as if making up
    for the sleep he missed.

    At career’s end, twin granddaughters
    born on his birthday.

    Memories streak across the mind’s sky.
    We need their bright, yet fleeting comfort.

    His life of births, his solitary death.
    This night Venus trembles

    below the crescent moon
    like a glistening tear.

    See you tomorrow, Chatterheads. Don’t give up the ship!

  • Ida and Alfie

    I was taken to task by a member of the Anonymoti, as Commenter Gary calls them, or the Anonymice? Here’s the story.

    I was casually reading through the comments on Rex’s blog yesterday when I came across one that used the phrase “the gig is up.” As you know, I’m sure, that contains an error. The correct phrase is the “jig” is up. So I wrote: I think you mean the “jig” is up, no?

    A friendly correction, IMO.

    Anonymous wrote: Is that correction necessary? Don’t be that guy. Nobody likes that guy. You know what he meant.

    Of course I knew what he meant. Everybody did. But to save him from embarrassing himself with that error in the future, I alerted him to it. Now I learn that nobody likes me?

    A little further down someone else took my side and wrote:

    “The world could do with more fraternal correction. Maybe then we wouldn’t hear ‘hone’ in, or ‘begs’ the question when ‘raised’ the question is needed. This is a blog which is fundamentally based on words. I don’t see much wrong with gently pointing out an error. Especially when it’s as simple as a single word.”

    My attacker jumped on him too! There were typos in my defender’s note, so he wrote: Maybe proofread before you hit “Publish”? (just a “fraternal correction”) [also online correction of others’ grammar / diction is 💯% a dick move]

    So now I’m a dick too! With no room to wriggle away: 100%!

    Pretty snarky.

    A third person chimed in right after that with “Nah,” which I took to be on my side.

    But I needed to respond, it seemed to me. The thing is, I understand the criticism. It can be obnoxious to correct someone. But if I’m bumbling my way through life making an embarrassing error, I would be thankful if someone took me aside gently and filled me in. I used to think the phrase was “for all intensive purposes” instead of “for all intents and purposes.” I am glad that I no longer do. (Thanks Don!) In my corrective note, I was employing the Golden Rule: do unto others. . . But I kept my response short and am pleased with it. It turned out to be the last word.

    I wrote:

    If the error had been mine, I would appreciate the correction.

    How much do we love these Irish babes? We married one! Hi Doll!

    Growing up, I noticed that beautiful French women came in two flavors: blonde and other. Bardot was the classic example of the former, and you could do worse than Claudine Longet for the latter. She was gorgeous, especially her eyes, and was married to popular crooner Andy Williams from 1961 to 1975. They had three kids, the youngest named Bobby after Bobby Kennedy, a close friend. Williams died in 2012. He was 84 and had bladder cancer.

    After splitting amicably with Williams, Longet hooked up with Olympic skier Spider Sabich, murdered him, and got away with it.

    Wait, what!!??

    Yeah, you heard me. She was arrested for shooting and killing Spider. She said he was showing her his pistol when it went off accidentally. But a ballistics expert said the gun was fired from four to six feet from Mr. Sabich, who was in the bathroom, a scenario inconsistent with an accidental shooting. [Ya think?] Much of the evidence was mishandled and she was only convicted of a minor charge, and served only 30 days, mostly on weekends, with meals brought in from outside. So, lesson for the prosecution, never underestimate the effect of a beautiful Frenchwoman with gorgeous eyes on a jury.

    Longet died at age 84 this week. Rest in peace, Claudine, if you can.

    Yesterday’s puzzle raised an issue on cats. The clue for CAT was “Stereotypically antisocial pets.” Cat-lover Rex could not let that pass:

    “This clue is dumb. Just because cats are not needy and will occasionally or frequently spurn your affection does not mean that they are not social. Just tonight, Ida came into the room where we were having cocktails and flopped herself down on the floor between us. She didn’t want to play or even interact, really. She just wanted to be where we were. That is typical. And that is social. Also, cats sit on their owners, sleep with their owners, climb on their owner’s shoulders … purr, purr, purr, social, social, social.”

    He attached two pics, the first of himself and the second of his wife (who seems miffed?), with, you know, their cats, Ida and Alfie, respectively.

    We enjoyed a terrific NJ Symphony concert Saturday night in Newark. Joshua Bell conducted for the entire program, which featured him soloing on the Saint-Saëns Violin Concerto No. 3. It was an arduous piece for the soloist and when it ended he was perspiring and looked at the concertmaster as if to say “Phew.” Our seats are in the second row. Quite neat.

    Bell is from Indiana, is 58, and has three sons from his former partner. He married opera singer Larisa Martinez in 2019. Former NYT columnist David Brooks performed the ceremony. Bell’s dad was Scottish and his mom was of Russian-Jewish descent. I didn’t know he was a brutha.

    Here’s a “three couples” joke I’ve always liked:

    On a honeymoon cruise, three new husbands met in a lounge and started talking about marriage. One says he read an article saying you have to lay down the law early in the marriage: let the wife know you’re the king and what you expect from her. They decided to try that out and meet after a year to compare notes. The year passed and they got together again.

    The first husband reported: Well, right after we got back from the cruise, I sat my wife down and explained that I was the king of the castle and I expected a home-cooked meal every night — no excuses, and that it was her role to keep the house spotless. “And how did it go?,” the others asked. He said, “Well, my wife is from Kansas and very sweet. For the first few days, I didn’t see any progress, but by the end of the week I started getting some pretty good meals and the house is in decent shape. So, overall, I’d have to say, I’m pretty pleased.”

    The second husband reported next. “I laid it all out on the line: the meals, the housekeeping, everything I expected of her.” “And?” they asked. “Well, my wife is from Nebraska. I also didn’t see anything at first, but things started to improve pretty quickly and now our house is in great shape and I enjoy home-cooked meals on a regular basis.” “Excellent,” the others said.

    “And how did it go with you?, they ask the third. “I took the same approach,” he said. “As soon as we got home from the cruise I sat her down and made the king of the castle speech and told her my expectations.” “And how’d it go?” they asked. “Well, my wife is from the Bronx. I didn’t see anything at first. But after a few days the swelling went down, and I could make out shapes.”

    So I shared it with the gang since it related to something in the puzzle and got two responses, from two different Anonymice:

    “So unfunny. Not even a little.”

    “That’s mean, but true. The “joke” is Sexist in the extreme as well as unfunny. And longer than the whole write-up, why?! There should be character limits on comments.”

    Ouch! Sexist in the extreme. With a capital S! They got my number, that’s for sure. Probably best not to respond.

    Two hours later this appeared from a third Mouse:

    I am a woman from the Bronx and I think it’s very funny. Lighten up people.

    Indeed.

    See you tomorrow, Chatterheads. Keep your cool.

  • Pretty Talk

    That coffee at Starbucks can be hot. Make sure they put a ZARF around the cup before handing it to you. Didja know that’s what those little cardboard cupholders are called? Zarfs. Learned it from the puzzle yesterday. Any holder for a cup without a handle is a zarf: doesn’t have to be cardboard.

    At 10A, for “Bird on the South Carolina state quarter,” the answer was WREN, prompting acerbic commenter Gary to carp: I believe it’s okay to know nothing about South Carolina.

    At 14A, for the clue “Capote or chesterfield,” the answer was COAT. Gary again: I call my coats “coats.”

    The capote has nothing to do with Truman. It’s a long wrap-style wool coat with a hood. From the early days of the North American fur trade, both indigenous peoples and European Canadian settlers fashioned wool blankets into “capotes” as a means of coping with harsh winters.

    The chesterfield is a formal, dark, knee-length overcoat with a velvet collar introduced around the 1840s in the UK.

    The puzzle defeated me again! At 21A, I did not know the answer for “Double-______ cassowary (bird of Indonesia and Australia)” was WATTLED. 8D didn’t help. I did not know that “Getting a break on Broadway?” was IN TWO ACTS.

    39A was clever: “Don’t start with me!” was SECOND STRINGER.

    At 23D, “Once-popular terra-cotta figurine” was CHIA PET. Rex: Wait, you’re telling me they’re no longer popular!? My Chia Obama is … out of style!?!?

    Here’s some stuff I gleaned from today’s puzzle:

    A good term for the current administration: ERRANCY (“Misjudgment”)

    Someone with a TINEAR must have trouble getting through metal detectors.

    Real estate ad in an earthquake zone: For sale: Bouncy house.

    Sometimes a wave can serve ASAHI (“Japanese beer”)

    How an LA RAM makes sure he wakes up in time for the game: ALARM

    Old baseball joke: They can’t serve beer at the Stadium this season. The Yanks lost the OPENER.

    The “Surname for a family of fictional Kansans” was GALE, from the Wizard of Oz. We’ve had a lot of Van Morrison lately, and I’m a big fan. But in many of the cases, I’m just going where the puzzle leads me. Today, Son Volt posted this one from it.

    Like a full force gale
    I was lifted up again
    I was lifted up again by the Lord

    In the gentle evening breeze
    By the whispering shady trees
    I will find my sanctuary in the Lord

    This “tiny love story” was in the Times today. It’s called “The Prettiest Talk” and is by Katie Seigenthaler. It is unbearably beautiful.

    My grandmother used to say, “Talk pretty talk.” The active-voice version of “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t bother.” Her great-grandson Georgie has never said a word. Instead, he speaks with his left hand, moving it constantly. He gives high-fives, massages his contorted right hand, rubs his index finger across his lips while blowing raspberries. Once, though, he kept it perfectly still. He was 16. His sister, my daughter, was dying of cancer. At her bedside, he placed his hand over hers and held it there. Death briefly retreated. To me, it was the prettiest talk.  

    This Met Diary story is called “Hail and Hearty” and is by Emily Baker.

    Dear Diary:

    It was a bitter cold day on the Upper East Side. My husband and I were leaving the hospital after his cataract surgery.

    There were snowbanks lining the streets, and a nurses’ strike was in full swing, making the corner of 68th Street and York Avenue very chaotic. My husband had a huge eye patch on and was walking a bit unsteadily as I tried unsuccessfully to hail a cab.

    Suddenly, I heard a man’s loud voice behind me.

    “Hey! Hey!” he shouted.

    I didn’t dare turn to see whatever seemed to be angering him.

    Then I heard him shout again: “Taxi! Taxi!”

    I’ll let him get the next cab, I thought to myself. He didn’t sound like someone to be messed with.

    The next thing I knew, a huge construction worker wearing a hard hat and a neon vest was running past us. He ran into the middle of the street, stopping all traffic and approaching a parked cab.

    He banged on the window and spoke to the driver. Then he pointed at me.

    “This is your cab, lady!” he said. “But stay right there, I’m coming to get you.”

    Within seconds, he was at our side and escorting us to the cab.

    As he loaded us in, he addressed my husband.

    “You’re going to be OK, buddy,” he said reassuringly. “I’m praying for you today.”

    Let’s have a special shout out to Brian ENO, who was in the grid yet again today: “Brian in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.” 

    Per Rex: “It was his 78th birthday on Friday. I’m sorry I failed to acknowledge it. His birthday really should be some kind of Crossword Holiday. 343 lifetime NYTXW appearances. OK, not all of those ENOs were Brian (before 1985 ENO was always wine-related), but most of them were. Happy birthday, big guy (with a little name)!

    Today’;s theme was “double meanings” and you had to get from one phrase to a completely different one by separately solving the two parts of the first phrase. What? My favorite was getting from “yellow submarine” to CHICKEN SANDWICH. See how it works? Yellow can mean chicken, and a sub is a type of sandwich. Unfortunately, most of the others weren’t very clever.

    My favorite non-theme clue/answer was “Inept sorts” — SCHLUMPS. It bounced off some wordplay from yesterday’s puzzle where the clue was “Up to snuff, facetiously,” and the answer was EPT. Get it?

    Hold on a sec.

    George!! See who’s at the door! Are we expecting anyone? It’s Sunday morning.

    Whoa — babe, how are you!!?? What a treat!

    [At 43D, “T-Swift, by another nickname.” TAY]

    Looking well, as always. How’s TK? Sit. — Fresca? George!!

    Happy 40th, Caity! Man that went fast. Just learned your day shares the anniversary of the issuance of the ruling in Brown v. Board of Education, the landmark anti-segregation decision. Neat!

    Proud of you, Beaner.

    See you tomorrow, Chatterheads. Glad you could stop by.

  • Hopalong Cassidy

    We are shamelessly stealing our opening today from the newsletter of historian Heather Cox Richardson, followed by two questions we have. Here’s HCR:

    The biggest story in the country, today and always, is that the president of the United States is mentally unwell.

    Over the course of three hours last night, he posted on social media fifty-five times. Those posts accused a number of those Trump considers his personal enemies, including former president Barack Obama, of treason; claimed that investigations of the ties between his 2016 campaign and Russian operatives were an attempt to damage Trump; insisted the 2020 presidential election was stolen; reposted a fake quotation from Senator John Kennedy (R-LA) accusing Obama of making a personal fortune of $120 million from the Affordable Care Act, also known as Obamacare; labeled Obama and others “traitors” and called for their arrest; and demanded to know why acting attorney general Todd Blanche hadn’t indicted any of those people yet.

    This morning, he started in again with a long screed attacking the New York Times for its coverage of his alterations to the reflecting pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., and insisting that Democratic presidents Obama and Joe Biden had “botched” renovations that he was now fixing for “a ‘tiny’ fraction of the cost!” He posted an AI image of Obama, Biden, and former House speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) apparently swimming in a filthy version of the reflecting pool with the caption: “Dumacrats Love Sewage.” Then he posted an image of himself on the $100 bill. And then he was back to calling House minority leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY) “Low IQ.”

    Two questions:

    First, how is it possible that the above astounding material does not make it prominently into the regular news? It should be screaming from every headline in every news outlet: President Clearly Reveals Himself To Be Insane!! Nation and World In Clear Danger. How have we come to the point that the above is barely even news?

    Second, would Dumbacrats (with the B) be a better spelling than Dumacrats? I like the B because it’s the B in dumb, but when the word is pronounced the B would probably lose its silence. So it’s a tough call. I guess I’ll grudgingly stick with Trump’s Dumacrats.

    We had a terrific outing to Montclair yesterday. Spent some time walking the loop in Anderson Park, then a really great pie at the Teglia Pizza Bar. We opted for The Farmer: Roasted eggplant, Cherry tomato and spinach, Gorgonzola dolce, Finished with Pickled Onions and Arugula. Out of this world! The crust and the Gorgo sealed the deal.

    Then we saw the film Omaha. It’s the opposite of uplifting/feel-good, but very well done. Glad we saw it. Talia Balsam has a small role in it. Her dad was Martin Balsam, who won an Oscar for his supporting role in A Thousand Clowns, and whom you may recall from The Taking of Pelham 1-2-3, which is nothing to sneeze at.

    We are always happy to welcome birds to the puzzle and Owl Chatter . So, how nice to see 16A, where the clue was “Pittsburgh Pirates mascot,” and the answer was PARROT. There’s a bit of a dark side to the story, however. This is from Wikipedia:

    Kevin Koch was the original Pirate Parrot for seven years after its debut in 1979, selected over 97 other applicants for his energetic nature and talented disco performance during his audition […] In 1985, it was discovered that Koch had used cocaine during several games and introduced players to cocaine by serving as middle man between drug dealers and players. Koch resigned that year and has expressed regret for doing cocaine and sharing it with the players. Despite the scandal, the Pirates kept the Parrot. 

    Now I ask you boys and girls: Does this look like the face of a drug dealer?

    My wordplay yesterday was with the following puzzle answers: SMITTEN; UH, NO; CLOT; POTATO SKIN; NEWS CREW; and NORSE.

    SGLOVE? No, SMITTEN

    Aren’t you Mrs. Lennon? UHNO.

    Where can I park at the ballgame for under $25? CLOT

    A Russet, to a Yukon Gold: POTATOSKIN

    Replacement for an old nail: NEWSCREW

    NORSE: An RN in Oslo.

    Here’s one!

    Bill Cassidy, an idiot of the highest order, is getting his ass primaried and will likely lose his Senate seat in Louisiana. The Times had a story about him this week. You may recall he’s a doc, but cast the deciding vote in favor of RFK, Jr., despite his anti-vaxxism, in an effort to kiss Trump’s fat tuchas.

    From the article: Mr. Cassidy was always clear about how much Mr. Kennedy’s opposition to vaccines bothered him. In the lead-up to the crucial Senate committee vote last year, Mr. Cassidy told Mr. Kennedy, “If there is any false note, any undermining of a mama’s trust in vaccines, another person will die from a vaccine-preventable disease.”

    But Mr. Cassidy then was still trying to ingratiate himself with the Trump administration. He insisted he could vote to confirm Mr. Kennedy with a clear conscience because he had extracted promises from him.

    [Puh-leeze.]

    Of course, Mr. Kennedy quickly broke those.

    So much for the old credo, “First do no harm.” I’m not saying Cassidy is evil like the Nazi doctors, just a politician and an idiot. But when Kennedy is finally finished and the dust settles, who will have the bodies of more children at his feet?

    Headline from The Onion:

    Trump Unwittingly Breaks Chinese Taboo Against Napping Facedown In Soup Bowl

    This poem from The Writer’s Almanac is “Tamanrasset” by Rosalind Brackenbury

    On account of my knees
    I thought a camel would be appropriate:
    I could be helped on
    and eventually off again.
    Have you ever
    got on a camel?
    They go down for you
    on their own padded knees
    and close their eyes while they wait
    for you to be set in place,
    like priests waiting for all the communicants
    to be done, in some high church.
    Then they rise, tipping you,
    heaving beneath you
    but you don’t fall,
    you are suddenly
    feet up in the air,
    carried forward on the long sway
    of their stride.
    They will carry you across deserts,
    across days and datelines
    until you arrive one far-off day
    in the city of Tamanrasset
    where you have been waiting all your life
    to go.

    And here’s the camel pose:

    The writer Katherine Anne Porter was born on this date in 1890.

    She said: “I started out with nothing in the world but a kind of passion, a driving desire. I don’t know where it came from, and I don’t know why — or why I have been so stubborn about it that nothing could deflect me. But this thing between me and my writing is the strongest bond I have ever had — stronger than any bond or any engagement with any human being or with any other work I’ve ever done.”

    That’s exactly how we feel about Owl Chatter! (Maybe not quite, though.)

    At 44D today, “Baseball’s Stengel” was, of course CASEY. Turn it up!

    The puzzle defeated me at the cross of “Dangerous ocean phenomenon” and “Language of southern India,” ROGUE WAVE and TELUGU, respectively. Ouch.

    Telugu is a Dravidian language native to two Indian states. It is a classical language with a recorded history of at least 2,000 years. Spoken by about 100 million people, it is one of the few languages that has primary official status in more than one Indian state, alongside Hindi and Bengali. It is the fourteenth most spoken native language in the world. (wikipedia)

    Here’s Rex on it:

    “What made me mad was not the answer itself (it is, after all, ‘the fourteenth most spoken native language in the world,’ I can hardly begrudge its presence here) but my knowing it, or at least having seen it before, and just not being able to get a grip on it. That answer was like a wet bar of soap and I kept thinking I had it and it kept popping out of my hands.

    “TELUGU is a language I learned about not from crosswords (It hasn’t appeared in the NYTXW for 35 years) but from cinema. Specifically, once I started going to the movies in earnest (after the pandemic had lightened up considerably), I noticed that my local Regal cinema frequently shows Indian-language movies I’d never heard of. Not old movies—current movies. There seemed to be a booming industry in Indian-language films that were showing right alongside all the western films at the cineplex, but with none of the commercial hype (that I could see). And I know that at some point I noticed that the languages of some of these films were not ones I had heard of (i.e. not Hindi or Bengali or URDU). TELUGU is definitely one of those languages (apparently there’s a whole TELUGU-language film industry, called (unsurprisingly) ‘Tollywood’).”

    Wow, it’s Montreal vs Ottawa in the Walter Cup Finals and it was pretty much over in Game One last night with Ottawa up by a goal and the clock winding down to the final 18 seconds. Montrealer Laura Stacey was injured and being helped off the ice by her wife, Montreal Captain Marie-Philip Poulin.

    But wait — what was it Yogi said? With two seconds left Poulin fed Nicole Gosling in the crease and she hammered it home for the tie that would end with a Montreal win in overtime. Yikes. Stacey, back on the ice, assisted on Abby Roque’s game-winner.

    Here’s the happy couple, Laura on the left. Those teeth can’t be real, can they?

    Can’t think of a nicer way to close. See you tomorrow!

  • Kathy, I’m Lost

    Paul Krugman had some interesting things to say about Trump’s illegal tariffs in his newsletter yesterday. They were held illegal twice now so Trump is still trying to find more illegal ways to keep them going. Meanwhile, however, some of the original tariffs are being refunded. So, harm undone, right? Not right. As PK points out, the tariff is imposed on a corporation that, in turn, passes it on to the consumer, i.e., you and me. The refund is paid to the corporation, but, of course, that is not passed on to the consumer. So the consumer is screwed and the corp comes out ahead. And, of course, all of the promised benefits of the tariffs have failed to materialize.

    Here’s Krug:

    “So we have created a machine which rips off consumers when the tariffs are imposed, then hands a bunch of money to corporations when they are ruled illegal. And it’s pretty big. The tariffs have been something like 1% of GDP. That’s hundreds of billions of dollars that were taken for no good reason.

    “It almost seems beside the point to point out that the tariffs have also failed. All of the things that they were supposed to do — rebuild manufacturing — manufacturing employment is down — reduce the trade deficit — the trade deficit isn’t down — haven’t happened. So this was all a really large burden on the US public completely without any payoff.”

    Of course, this pales in importance next to the piles upon piles of dead children discussed in our last post, and the damage done by Trump’s idiotic war.

    This poem by Jo McDougall is called “Mothers and Daughters” and was in yesterday’s Writer’s Almanac.

    When I was a child
    my mother and I traveled the long miles
    to see her mother, once a year.
    That hillside farm was mostly gravel,
    the kitchen smelled like a churn,
    guineas and chickens strutted the porch.
    When we left,
    my grandmother would stand
    in her garden and wave.
    I’d watch her a long time,
    leaning out the window of the car.
    My mother would say little on the way home,
    her eyes now and then filling with tears.
    Perhaps she was thinking of that garden,
    the one she tried to replicate year after year,
    every last pole bean and zinnia,
    the one she left to me.

    Irving Berlin was born on May 11 (yesterday) in Russia in 1888. In 1925, he fell in love with a debutante, Ellin Mackay. Her wealthy father disapproved and took her away to Europe. But Berlin reached her through his songs on the radio. He wrote romantic ballads like “Always” and dedicated them to her. They were married when she returned to New York, and remained married for 62 years, until her death in 1988, the year he turned 100. He’s still alive, at age 138. (No he’s not.)

    Here is the wordplay I came up with yesterday and today off the NYTXW. (The word in caps was the word in the grid.)

    What to take for a headache from worrying about artifical intelligence: AIMED

    Opposite of “Shut the hell up!” GABON

    What Jenner is now: ASHE

    Trump, to Putin: ASAP

    How to save time ordering a bacon lettuce tomato and goat sandwich: LGBT on toast.

    Dye job: Blue PLAIT Special

    Neptune: EAU God

    When you strain your ABDUCTORS, wrap them in ABDUCTAPE.

    On FIFI: I filled this in backwards at first, but it seemed a little iffy so I fixed it.

    What’s connected to the TROMBONE?

    If Laura played the trumpet, she’d be DERN tootin’

    Someone who still worships the woman who divorced him is an EXIST.

    Owl Chatter, led by Phil and our Dirty Old Man Dept., has come out strongly in favor of the recent practice of beautiful women dressing in lingerie for a night out. A drool-engulfed report by AOL states that Taylor “mastered lingerie dressing” for a recent night out in London with Trav.

    A little velvet top with lace detailing at the neckline was paired with a silk midi skirt also featuring romantic floral lace. The skirt hails from lingerie label Fleur du Mal, and is also offered in a soft lavender.

    Phil dug it up in lavender for my former tax student Monique to model for us. Thanks, Babe! Gotta go with the black, though, amirite?

    The article noted Dakota Johnson has also integrated lingerie dressing into her “street style.” Loved you with Sean Penn in Daddio, DJ!

    OK. Deep breaths. Need to calm down. George!! Put up some decaf!!

    Bobby Cox died at age 84 in Marietta GA on Saturday, where Linda’s sister Kathy lives. He played a bit for the Yankees but made his mark and then some as a manager for the Braves. He’s in the Hall of Fame for it and is the fourth winningest skipper of all time, behind Connie Mack, John McGraw, and Tony LaRussa. His Atlanta teams won division championships 14 consecutive times, from 1991 to 2005. Yow! And the Braves won the World Series for him in ’95. He also set the record for most games ejected: 162 — an entire season’s worth exactly.

    Most of the time, Cox was protecting his players from ejections by shouldering their anger, and there were evidently no hard feelings on the part of the umps. “The umpires have the utmost respect for Bobby Cox,” ump Richie Garcia said. “What happens one night isn’t carried over to the next.” As ump Bob Davidson put it, “If I was a ballplayer, I’d want to play for Bobby Cox.”

    Cox had eight children from two wives. They’ll be bringing the lineup card out for him today.

    Rest in peace, Bobby.

    We’re going to steal this “musical coda” from Krugman today. Heading up to Montclair for a movie. Report to follow.

    See you tomorrow!

  • A Dictionary of Angels

    We watched another great Gnats game last night: a 3-2 win in Miami. An unusual game. It was the first time in franchise history that both teams scored more than one run in the first inning and no runs thereafter. Yes, folks, the boys took a shaky one-run lead in the first and nursed it home through eight more fraught innings.

    Jacob Young’s two-run blast accounted for 2/3 of our runs, but an earlier RBI single by CJ Abrams was more interesting. The leadoff batter, James Wood struck out to start the game. Three straight curve balls did him in. When CJ got up several batters later, Kevin Frandsen, our announcer, said CJ should have been watching Wood’s at bat, based on which he should be expecting a curve ball. Sure enough, the next pitch was a curve that CJ seemed to be waiting for. He laced it into the outfield to knock in a run. Good baseball and great announcing.

    Here’s a nice shot of Franny from his playing days. He’s “filled out” a bit since then.

    Happy Mom’s day to all of you moms out there. It’s the one day of the year that the letter M is not owned by Michigan. Well, it’s sorta on loan, I guess. How about a special shout-out to Octomom! Remember her? I used to use her in my gift/estate tax class when discussing the annual exclusion. I’ll spare you the details. Wow, they all look great! Kinehora.

    I recognized the co-constructors of the puzzle today as superstars (Rachel Fabi and Adam Wagner) and they did not disappoint. The theme revealer was CLOSE THE LOOP, and the grid gave us a C that you had to fill in with three squares marked “BLOCK” to close it up to be a circle.

    Then, in the italicized theme clues, you had to figure out to read the C’s as O’s. E.g., The answer for the clue “Wild cats” was YOUTHFUL INDISCRETIONS, which only makes sense if you change “wild cats” to “wild oats.” That happened eight times. And, since these constructors are incredible, they kept the grid clean for the theme. That is, there were absolutely no C’s or O’s in any of the other (nonitalicized) clues! I hadn’t even noticed that until it was mentioned by a commenter. (Duh.) Rex didn’t notice it either, and wrote: “This is an added level of constructing difficulty that seems … insane. Something only dogs can hear. Crossword-constructing dogs. Anyway, this dog didn’t hear it.”

    Many were bothered by the clue/answer at 6D: “”Meek” in “Blessed are the meek,” e.g. The answer was ADNOUN. What? It’s a real word that means an adjective used as a noun. Here, the adjective “meek” is used as a noun: “the meek.”

    Rex was apoplectic:

    What in tarnation and also on god’s green earth and/or the world is this word? I learned the term for what you call “meek” in the phrase “the meek shall inherit the earth” when I was in high school and I have never forgotten it and I have occasion to use it from time to time in my teaching and that term is “substantive adjective.” Today is the first day in my entire life, to say nothing of my English-teaching life, that I have seen the extremely ugly and awkward and confusing term ADNOUN. It’s like that word was someone’s very first assignment at portmanteau school. “OK, Billy, what if you combine ‘adjective’ and ‘noun,’ what would you call that?” “Uh … ADNOUN?” “Hmm. OK. Well … you keep trying, Billy.”

    This poem by Charles Simic is called “In the Library.” It’s from today’s Writer’s Almanac.

    There’s a book called
    A Dictionary of Angels.
    No one had opened it in fifty years,
    I know, because when I did,
    The covers creaked, the pages
    Crumbled. There I discovered

    The angels were once as plentiful
    As species of flies.
    The sky at dusk
    Used to be thick with them.
    You had to wave both arms
    Just to keep them away.

    Now the sun is shining
    Through the tall windows.
    The library is a quiet place.
    Angels and gods huddled
    In dark unopened books.
    The great secret lies
    On some shelf Miss Jones
    Passes every day on her rounds.

    She’s very tall, so she keeps
    Her head tipped as if listening.
    The books are whispering.
    I hear nothing, but she does.

    Did you read Nick Kristof’s article in the NYT today? Oy. The title: “The Children America Abandoned,” doesn’t come close to describing the horror it details. He starts off with: As Jeremy Lewin, the acting under secretary of state for foreign assistance, put it: “Contrary to false media narratives, the data shows that President Trump’s foreign assistance review maintained and improved frontline lifesaving programs, while reducing bloat and costs.”

    He goes on: This glossy new Trump narrative is absurd. Trump’s most lethal policy will almost surely be his 71% cut in humanitarian aid from 2024 to 2025. A Boston University researcher estimated that the aid cuts cost more than 750,000 lives worldwide in their first year. The Lancet, the British medical journal, forecast that at present rates the defunding will cost 9.4 million lives by 2030, including 2.5 million children under the age of 5.

    He then notes the actual numbers will be difficult to determine because the administration has cut data collection.

    That’s just on the aid cuts that Musk so cavalierly imposed in thoughtless, brutal, hit-and-run fashion. Add to that the insane anti-vax policies which estimates say will needlessly take an additional 600,000 lives. Trump slashed funding for an international vaccine alliance, and is refusing to release $600 million that Congress has already appropriated.

    To say these criminals have blood on their hands doesn’t begin to describe it. They are awash in blood, swimming in it, doing the back stroke and the butterfly stroke in it. How can anyone be anything but ashamed to be an American anymore?

  • Anti-Comedy

    I was today years old when I learned from the NYTXW that one of my favorite anti-social practices has a name. Say Linda and I are at some social event, and I’m miserable, of course, because I’m me. The time soon comes when I say, “I think we can leave. I just saw someone leave.”

    “Who left? They haven’t even served the salad yet.”

    “You saw him. That guy in the grey outfit.”

    “That was a delivery man.”

    “What difference does that make? Let’s just go.”

    “Shouldn’t we say goodbye? At least to the host?”

    “No, that would take forever [like twelve seconds]. Let’s just slip out.”

    And we’re gone, and I can resume breathing.

    It’s called a “French exit” — leaving without saying goodbye. It’s also called an Irish exit. Maybe it’s Irish if you’re drunk when you do it? Just asking.

    It came up in the puzzle as a clue: “French exit.” The answer was SORTIE.

    It inspired me to explain to the gang what a Yiddish exit is.

    Yiddish exit: When you finally leave after annoying everybody.

    Did you know what a “chilango” is? Not a chance in hell, amirite? It’s someone from Mexico City. So the answer for “What many a Chilango is” was SENOR. I like the one I made up better:

    A chilango is a contraction for the term “chill and go,” for when you put something up to cool to eat later, but then leave and forget about it.

    The third item I played with today was clued with “Create a crispy crust for, say.” Answer: PANSEAR.

    I explained:

    PANSEAR: How the ancient Greek god of the wild would listen to things. BTW, he’s the dude behind the word PANIC, from his habit of causing sudden fear in remote wooded areas. WTF, man!

    Another term in the puzzle that was new to me was ANTICOMEDY. The clue was “Humor without a traditional punch line.” Andy Kauffman and Norm Macdonald are examples, but I’m not sure the latter really qualifies. Rex said Wikipedia says it’s “subverting normal joke structure.” But he thought it’s not a good term, because it’s still a form of comedy, not “anti-comedy.”

    Have I shared Norm Macdonald telling the moth joke before? If so, who cares? It’s brilliant and deserves a replay.

    There was an unusual exchange on Rex’s blog yesterday. It started with the clue/answer in the puzzle at 23A: “Equipment that attaches to a mask.” Answer: SNORKEL.

    So I posted, in my usual ridiculous way:

    SNORK-EL: Superman’s idiot brother back on Krypton

    Anony Mouse followed with:

    Krypton blew up before Superman arrived on Earth.

    I (Liveprof) replied at 4:32:

    Please. The memories are too painful.

    Then, either the same Anony Mouse, or, more likely, a different one posted hours later:

    Liveprof 4:32.
    I’ve been a faithful part of this blog for more than a decade.
    That sir, is the best post I’ve ever read. By a million miles. Thank you.

    Wow. I’m not entirely sure what to make of it. I didn’t respond. I didn’t think my post was that good. Was he/she being sarcastic? Didn’t seem so. I’ll just take the praise on the theory that you can never get enough and limp along.

    Credit Where Due Dept. For those of you who don’t believe in miracles, there were several decent New Yorker cartoons this week! Hallelujah! Here are my two faves:

    “Just say they’re the greatest pancakes. You don’t need to add ‘of these United States.’ ”

    “Good God. Some fools have been completely reckless with their oxygen supply.”

    Here’s a baseball question that arose in a Gnats game recently. The Gnats had runners on first and third with two out. The runner from first took off for second with the pitch and the catcher threw down to second. But the runner stopped midway between first and second to delay getting tagged. Meanwhile, at a propitious moment, the runner from third took off for home and crossed the plate before the runner from first was tagged out. So the run scored and counted. My question: Does the runner from third get credit for stealing home, a rare feat? I think yes.

    And this happened in a different game. The Gnats were in the field this time and the Dodgers had runners on first (Ohtani) and third. There was one out and the batter hit a grounder to Nunez at second. Ohtani ran for a bit but then headed back toward first to avoid the tag. Nunez ran over to first tagged Ohtani and then stepped on the bag to complete the double play. The announcer very astutely pointed out that it was key for Nunez to tag Ohtani before stepping on the base. That made both outs force outs. If he had stepped on first base first, tagging Ohtani would not have been a force out. So if the runner from third (who raced home during the whole hooha) crossed the plate before the tag, the run would have counted. By keeping both outs force outs Nunez insured that the run couldn’t count. Smart baseball.

    That’s a good announcer: former player Kevin Frandsen. He made an excellent point last night too. James Wood was on first and Grady House at the plate. House swung at strike three as Wood slid into second with a stolen base. Franny pointed out on the replay how House, despite swinging and missing, was careful not to let his swing carry him toward the plate. You could see him holding himself back. Had he not restrained himself he might have bumped into the catcher in his act of throwing to second in which case Wood would have been called out due to House’s interference. “The little things make a difference.”

    The Gnats won’t be setting the world on fire, but they are playing some good ball and we’ve enjoyed keeping an eye on them. They are 17-19, and ahead of the Phillies and Mets, for the moment, kinehora.

    Best off-season move: Hiring Alexa. No question.

    Who Datt?? It’s Alexa Datt!

    See you tomorrow, Chatterheads!