The Wellington Files

  • Flat Wrong About Iowa

    The Jets season has mercifully come to a close. Faced with a chance to make the playoffs for the first time in who-remembers, they lost their last six games, failing to score a single touchdown in the last three. It’s a good thing I’m not the sort of fan who gets bitter (much). Here’s their poor coach. He had a full head of hair when the season started.

    Have you heard of the word “supervocalic?” Rex used it today. It describes a word that contains all 5 vowels (excluding y). Supervocalic itself is supervocalic, btw. In today’s puzzle, the clue for 14D was “Ambidextrous features?” and the answer was AEIOU, because “ambidextrous” is supervocalic.

    That’s the sort of thing, incidentally, that may be on the test. Have I not mentioned the test? — I’ll be posting your owl chatter midterm exam probably sometime next week. It will be all multiple choice questions — no essays. It will cover all owl chatter posts up to today’s: January 8. That’s a ton of material, so don’t leave your studying for the last minute (and don’t spend all your review time drooling over Taylor Swift or Ana de Armas, fellas.)

    The highest test score will win a prize. In the event of duplicate results, ties will be awarded. No, that last sentence was a joke — in the event of duplicate high scores, a winner will be selected at random by my granddaughter Zoey’s cat Emily, whom you can see napping, below.

    It’s Elvis’s birthday today, born in Tupelo, Mississippi in 1935. When he was eleven, he asked his parents for a bike, but they couldn’t afford one and got him a guitar instead — for $12.95 at Tupelo Hardware. His family moved to Memphis two years later. When he was 18 and working as a truck driver, he spent $4 to record two songs as a gift for his mom. The recording studio also housed Sun Records, owned by Sam Phillips. Phillips heard Elvis singing and asked if he knew any more songs. Ka Boom!

    You know what Elvis looked like. Here’s Sam Phillips.

    Nice to see Hall of Famer Rod CAREW in the grid today at 78A, clued by reference to his seven A.L. batting titles. Only Ty Cobb won more (12 – yikes!). Even though I was expecting a lot, his Wikipedia writeup blew me away. E.g., he appeared in 18 straight All-Star games. Chai! He hit .388 in 1977 and was the A.L. MVP. Get this — the A.L. batting title — the award itself — was named after him in 2016. So if you win the A.L. batting title now, you are the “Rod Carew American League Batting Champion.” (The N.L. crown is named after Tony Gwynn.) Carew stole home 7 times in 1969. How do you do that, even once?

    Carew is a “Zonian,” i.e. born in the Panama Canal Zone, which was a political entity at the time (it was since absorbed into Panama). He was actually born on a train that was in the Zone. His mother was Panamanian. The train was racially segregated; white passengers were given the better forward cars, while non-whites, like Carew’s mother, were forced to ride in the rearward cars. Traveling on the train was Dr. Rodney Cline, who delivered the baby. In appreciation, Mrs. Carew named the boy Rodney Cline Carew. [My grandson Leon was named after one of Caity’s doctors. The circumstances were markedly different: Caity just liked the doctor’s name: Leon.]

    Carew never converted to Judaism, although he wore a chai necklace during his playing days. His first wife, Marilynn Levy, is Jewish, and he was a member of Temple Beth Shalom in Santa Ana, California. Their three daughters, Charryse, Stephanie, and Michelle, were raised Jewish and had their bat mitzvahs there. When Michelle died of leukemia at age 18, services were held at Beth Shalom, and she was buried in the family plot at a Jewish cemetery in Richfield, Minnesota. Carew has always identified as Episcopalian. (It sounds like he was “Jew-ish.”) Carew and Marilyn divorced in 2000, after 30 years of marriage.

    In September, 2015, Carew suffered a major heart attack, and he received a heart transplant on December 15, 2016. Carew’s heart was donated by former Baltimore Ravens tight end Konrad Reuland who had attended middle school with Carew’s children. Carew participated in the 2018 Rose Parade aboard the Donate Life float, in honor of Reuland.

    Here’s an autographed card of Rod Carew from my collection.

    Speak of the devil — or, in this case, angel. The lovely ANA de Armas made the grid again today at 120A. Hi Ana! You are always welcome at owl chatter.

    I was today old when I learned from the puzzle that an ATOLL is an island formed by a coral reef that forms around an underwater volcano. There are about 440 in the world, most of them in the Pacific Ocean. Over time the volcanic island subsides leaving a lagoon surrounded by the reef.

    Department of Corrections. How fitting that IOWAN is the answer at 39A today, clued by “Like Captain James T. Kirk, by birth.” Iowan Pam tells us Bill Lee is wrong about Iowa being flat, as noted yesterday. But it’s more likely it is I who am wrong in remembering his quote. It may have been a different state, if not the state of confusion. [Don: you read Lee’s book — can you help?] Here’s Pam’s note. (Maybe it was Kansas.)

    “Iowa is not flat, but rather a state of rolling hills. Growing up I had a big one to climb to get home by bike or by foot. If you want flat, drive across Kansas!
    Here is a link to a picture of the beautiful fields of dreams and please note the undulations!”

    Please accept sincere owl chatter apologies for dissing your home state, Ms. Smith.

    I’d like to end by sharing a picture of Rex Parker, whose daily blog on the NYT crossword was a small part of the inspiration for owl chatter. It’s a silly picture of him with his cat, Olive, who died last year.

    And here is what he wrote about her in summing up his 2022:

    “I love the photo both because you can tell how goofy she is, and how goofy she made me. Her loss hurt for the obvious reasons, but also because she was so much a part of my daily routine, my daily rhythms and rituals. She was everyday. Quotidian. Just . . . on me, near me, being a weirdo, especially in the (very) early mornings when I was writing the blog. She took me out of myself. She also made me aware of how much the quotidian matters, how daily rituals break up and organize the day, mark time, ground you. They’re easy to trivialize, these rituals, precisely because they aren’t special. Feed the cats again, make the coffee again, solve the crossword again, etc. But losing Olive made me reevaluate the daily, the quotidian, the apparently trivial. In a fundamental way, those small daily things are life. No one day is so important, or so different from the others, but cumulatively, they add up, and through the days upon days you develop a practice—a practice of love, care, and attention given to the things that matter.”

    Happy puzzling, everybody! See you tomorrow!

  • Charlotte and Zora

    After yesterday’s segment on Yo Yo Ma, dare we discuss another cellist: Charlotte Moorman? Oh, we have to. There’s always room for cello.

    Moorman was born in Little Rock, Arkansas, on Nov. 18, 1933 and died in NYC ten days short of her 58th birthday. She was a cellist but better known as an advocate for, and performer of, avant garde music. She was the founder of the NY Avant Garde Festival. Upon graduating from Julliard, she began a traditional career but was pushed towards the avant garde by her friend and roommate Yoko Ono. Moorman said that one day she grew tired of a Kabalevsky cello piece she was playing, and someone suggested that she play John Cage’s “26 Minutes, 1.1499 Seconds for a String Player,” which, among other things, requires the performer to prepare and eat mushrooms. Once you color outside the lines, all hell breaks loose.

    For the sixth Festival she performed a piece called Sky Kiss while suspended in the air from helium-filled weather balloons.

    On February 9, 1967, Moorman performed Nam June Paik’s Opera Sextronique. During the first movement, Moorman played Elegy by Jules Massenet in the dark while wearing a bikini that had blinking lights. For the second movement, she played International Lullaby by Max Mathews while topless, and was arrested mid-performance. She was not able to return to perform the last two movements. She was charged with indecent exposure, though her penalty was later suspended, and she gained nationwide fame as the “topless cellist.” She was fired from the American Symphony Orchestra. (Fuck them!) Following Moorman’s death, Paik made a film entitled Topless Cellist (1995) about her life and avant-garde performances.

    Here are some pix.

    In the September 12, 2016 issue of The New Yorker, Hilton Als reviews an exhibition on Moorman in an art gallery. He states: “One sees Moorman as she left us: electrified and alive to the ideas that she put forth as true performer-revolutionaries do, by making an example with her body, right there, naked and playful and truthful, in real time.”

    It’s Zora Neale Hurston’s birthday today (Saturday). She was born in Notasulga, Alabama, in 1891 and grew up in Eatonville, Florida, the first incorporated African-American community in the U.S., with a population of about 125. Hurston loved it there. She is best known for the novel “Their Eyes Were Watching God,” which I’m glad I read. She studied anthropology at Barnard College on a scholarship. She was the only Black student at Barnard. She founded the Harlem Renaissance and was honored with a U. S. postage stamp, but died in poverty in 1960 and was buried in an unmarked grave.

    The clue for 32D today was “Bill Clinton played one on ‘The Arsenio Hall Show’ in 1992,” and the answer was TENORSAX. It prompted egs to chime in with:

    Was it the soprano’s gun that killed him?
    No, the TENORSAX.

    I like seeing Yiddish in the puzzle. The clue at 38A was “He’s a mensch.” ANS: STAND UP GUY.

    MEEPLE was new to me: “Human-shaped board game piece.”

    Everyone’s fave today was 33A: “Eco-centric college class,” and the answer was ITALIAN LIT. Get it? “Eco” is the writer Umberto Eco.

    Heard of Eero Aarnio? Me neither. It’s a clue puzzlers refer to as a WOE —What on earth? He’s a Finnish interior designer, 90 years old now, who designed the bubble chair and other items that formed part of pop culture in the 60s. The bubble chair was suspended from the ceiling.

    Ken JENNINGS of Jeopardy fame hit the grid at 15D. As many of you know, he won Jeopardy 74 times in a row, netting over $2.5 million while doing so. He was beaten by Nancy Zerg on his 75th appearance. The Final Jeopardy category was Business & Industry, and the clue was “Most of this firm’s 70,000 seasonal white-collar employees work only four months a year.” Zerg knew it (H&R Block), but KJ blanked and guessed Fedex. Alex Trebek called Zerg a “giant killer.” (She came in third in the next show.)

    Jennings is an active Twitter user, and some of his tweets have been controversial (which is a euphemism for assholey). In 2014, he angered disability rights groups by tweeting, “Nothing sadder than a hot person in a wheelchair.” He may not be a mensch.

    Here’s Nancy Zerg.

    For some reason, the commentariat got into bad (punny) jokes about the 50 states today. They were really bad, e.g., “You don’t like my Maryland joke — stop being so crabby.” There is a point at which jokes are so bad that they become funny for being so bad. These didn’t get there — they were unredeemingly bad.

    But they reminded me of a line I liked about Iowa by Bill Lee, the wonderful pitcher for the Red Sox many years ago. He said Iowa was so flat, you could stand on a chair and watch your dog leave you for three days.

    We schlepped into the city to see a production of Gilbert & Sullivan’s HMS Pinafore at Hunter College by the NY G&S Players today. The cast was terrific — every song was done well. And the silliness was relentless. As the lights went down, we were asked to silence our devices and locate the emergency exits and lifeboats. When the Captain stepped on board the ship, he assured the crew he had just tested negative for Covid.

    I hereby appoint both of them (W. S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan) the Patron Saints of Owl Chatter. Here’s a quote from it:

    “I am poor in the essence of happiness, lady — rich only in never-ending unrest. In me there meet a combination of antithetical elements which are at eternal war with one another. Driven hither by objective influences — thither by subjective emotions — wafted one moment into blazing day, by mocking hope — plunged the next into the Cimmerian darkness of tangible despair, I am but a living ganglion of irreconcilable antagonisms. I hope I make myself clear, lady?”

    Thanks for stopping by!

  • Difficult Music

    How do you know when the violist is playing out of tune?

    ANS: The bow is moving.

    But it was not a violist’s bow in the puzzle this morning, it was a CELLO BOW, and not just any cello bow — the bow of the great Yo Yo Ma.

    Ma was quite a child prodigy. At age 3, he was playing the violin and piano. He settled on the cello at the ripe old age of 4. By 7 he was brilliant enough to perform for Presidents Eisenhower and Kennedy.

    Even more remarkable, in the womb, on the morning of his birth, he strummed “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight,” on his mother’s umbilical cord.

    In addition to his many musical accomplishments, it was interesting to learn that in 1999 he collaborated with landscape architects to design a Bach-inspired garden. It interprets Bach’s Suite No. 1 in G Major for unaccompanied cello, with the garden’s sections designed to correspond with the suite’s dance movements. It was built in Toronto’s Harbourfront neighborhood.

    Here’s a shot of the garden, followed by one of Ma himself, upon learning that he’d be featured in owl chatter today.

    Both of Yo Yo Ma’s children, Emily and Nicholas, studied at Julliard and are accomplished cellists in their own right. Here’s dad with Emily.

    One of our favorite actors, John TURTURRO, popped into the grid at 24D: “John of ‘The Big Lebowski.’” He was born in Brooklyn and still lives there, in Park Slope. He’ll be 66 at the end of next month.

    His first role was non-speaking, as an extra in Scorsese’s “Raging Bull.” Spike Lee is such a big Turturro fan that he’s used him in nine of his films, more than any other actor. If you were a fan of the TV show “Monk,” you may recall his portrayal of Monk’s reclusive brother, Ambrose, for which he won an Emmy. Ambrose made Monk seem normal. In all, JT has appeared in over 60 films. An owl-chatter favorite was “A Box Of Moonlight,” with Sam Rockwell (1996).

    He is married to Katherine Borowitz, a former actress, now a social worker. They have two kids. Here he is as Jesus in Lebowski.

    And here is he, with the missus.

    Anybody hear of JUDITH HEUMANN? She wheeled herself right across the center of the puzzle today at 35A with the clue: “Leading disability rights activist in the 2020 documentary ‘Crip Camp.’” She spearheaded the rights movement for the disabled. It’s a terrific movie.

    Heumann turned 75 last month. She lives in Washington DC with her husband, Jorge Pineda. She contracted polio when she was 18 months old and has been wheelchair bound since. It hasn’t slowed her down.

    In 1977, Heumann took on HEW Sec’y Joseph Califano who was refusing to implement laws protecting the rights of the disabled. She staged a sit-in with 125 disabled folks in the HEW federal building in Washington DC. Califano ordered no food or medicine be brought into the building, but the protesters found ways to circumvent the order, including the receipt of help from the Black Panthers who had a disabled member in her group. The protest lasted 28 days and ended with Califano capitulating. It remains the longest protest ever to take place in a federal building.

    Heumann has held positions in the World Bank, the State Department, the Clinton Administration, and the Ford Foundation. In her younger years, she fought discrimination that she faced personally by filing lawsuits. For example, in 1970, Heumann was denied her NYS teaching license because the Board did not believe she could get herself or her students out of the building in case of a fire, so she sued. With FDR in mind, a local newspaper ran the headline “You Can Be President, Not Teacher, with Polio.” The case settled without a trial, and Heumann became the first wheelchair user to teach in New York City.

    Thank goodness for Judith today. Otherwise it would be all men. CONAN O’Brien popped in too. Here are some of his quotes:

    “When all else fails, there’s always delusion.” (Amen to that, CO.)

    “Starbucks says they are going to start putting religious quotes on cups. The first one will say, ‘Jesus! This cup is expensive!’”

    “My favorite comedy is comedy where nothing is achieved and there is no point.” [Me too.]

    Here’s a poem by Kooser that is not from Winter Morning Walks. It’s from Delights & Shadows and is in his collection Kindest Regards. I am so glad I was able to track it down because it’s especially appropriate for today:

    A Rainy Morning

    A young woman in a wheelchair,
    wearing a black nylon poncho spattered with rain,
    is pushing herself through the morning.
    You have seen how pianists
    sometimes bend forward to strike the keys,
    then lift their hands, draw back to rest,
    then lean again to strike just as the chord fades.
    Such is the way this woman
    strikes at the wheels, then lifts her long white fingers,
    letting them float, then bends again to strike
    just as the chair slows, as if into a silence.
    So expertly she plays the chords
    of this difficult music she has mastered,
    her wet face beautiful in its concentration,
    while the wind turns the pages of rain.

  • Soil As Soft As Summer

    Anne Clarke, of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, had had enough. More than enough, truth be told. So she filed for divorce from her shitbag husband Dennis, an adulterer who abandoned her and their two children. Dennis conceded his shitbaggedness, and the divorce was granted. Court records show: “She is garunted to bee divorced.” And thus we have the first legal divorce recorded in the American colonies, on this very date, in 1643.

    Many years ago, I had to reserve a campsite for the July 4th weekend, so I called Andre at Privacy Campground in Hancock MA. He told me the cost would be $17 a night for two people plus a dollar extra for each additional camper. I told him there would be four of us, so it would be $19 a night.

    We needed the site for two nights, but he said it was a holiday weekend so there was a three-night minimum. That was fine with me, but it seemed silly to be paying the extra $2 for the night we weren’t going to be there. So I said, “Okay. But that third night – the night we’re not going to be there? Only two of us won’t be there.” It didn’t work. He pretended to not understand what I was saying, so I just let it go. Here’s a photo of all four of us, not there:

    I see in the NYT today that Romeo and Juliet are suing!! They claim they were sexually abused as minors. It’s no idle owl chatter: it’s a real lawsuit. California opened up a three-year window in its statute of limitations to allow for minors to file civil suits for sexual abuse they suffered long ago. (It closed last Saturday.) So Olivia Hussey and Leonard Whiting (Romeo and Juliet) are suing Paramount Pics over nude footage of them in Zeffirelli’s 1968 film. J was 16 at the time, and R was 17. They claim they were assured there would be no nudity, but were duped! “Images of plaintiffs’ nude bodies were secretly and unlawfully obtained during the performance,” the suit asserts. Zeffirelli himself bears much of the blame for the deception, but he died in 2019. The suit states the studio “knew or should have known” about it.

    Hussey said she was told she’d be able to wear a flesh-colored body suit for the scene in question, but when it was shot Zef told her she’d have to be nude for it to work. It was filmed on a closed set with only essential crew present, but she recalled one incident in which a “dirty old man” on the crew had to be removed. Hey! Dirty old men have rights too!! Hrummmmmph!

    I can see why R fell for her.

    Speaking of nudes, the NYTXW continues tossing tuchases at us. We’ve had one on three out of the five days of 2023 so far. Today’s was “Biblical mount,” at 30D: ASS. It was appropriately placed in the grid on the other side of, and below, ABS, at 20A (“Pilates target”).

    The clue for 21D was a great word: “Lachrymose,” and the answer was TEARY. So my question for you is: after you’ve had a good cry, are you lachrymoist?

    The clue for 52A was “Recover from a bender,” with the answer SOBER UP. LMS noted she misread the clue at first as “Recover from a blender.” And then she just said “Gruesome.”

    “Good name for a marine biologist” at 4D was RAE. And I was thinking a good name for the Whirlpool salesman (who sold me my new microwave oven today), would be Eddie.

    In yesterday’s New Yorker puzzle by brilliant constructor Patrick Berry, one of the answers was “Alan Smithee.” Here’s the story:

    During the filming of Death of a Gunfighter, released in 1969, actor Richard Widmark was at odds with the director, Robert Totten, and used his influence to have him replaced by Don Siegel. Siegel did not want the credit as the director because he worked on only ten days of shooting, plus he claimed Widmark was really in control. But Totten didn’t want the credit either since he was bitter about being replaced. In the end, a pseudonym was used: Alan Smithee. The film got good reviews. The NY Times said it was “sharply directed by Alan Smithee who has an adroit facility for scanning faces and extracting sharp background detail.” Roger Ebert wrote, “Director Alan Smithee, a name I’m not familiar with, allows his story to unfold naturally.”

    “Alan Smithee” was then used retroactively for the director’s credit for the film Fade In. The director, Jud Taylor, wanted to make a statement that he was overly interfered with on the film. Since then, the name has been used for the director in over two dozen films, where, for one reason or another, the actual director did not want the credit. An urban legend arose saying the name “Alan Smithee” was being used because it is an anagram of “the alias men,” but there is no evidence for this assertion.

    Listen to this! — In 1997, the film An Alan Smithee Film: Burn Hollywood Burn was released, in which a man named Alan Smithee (played by Eric Idle) wishes to disavow a film he directed, but is unable to do so because the only pseudonym he is permitted to use is his own name. The film was directed by Arthur Hiller, who complained that producer Joe Eszterhas had interfered with his creative control, and successfully removed his own name from the film, so Alan Smithee was credited instead! The film was a commercial and critical flop scoring only an 8 rating (out of 100) on Rotten Tomatoes. It won a “worst picture” award. The name Alan Smithee gained so much attention from this film that it was retired from use as a pseudonym.

    Michelangelo’s PIETA graced the grid today at 62A, the only piece Michelangelo ever signed. It’s had a tough life since its creation in 1498-1499. Mary lost four fingers on her left hand during a move. WTF!! They should have used the Seven Santini Brothers!

    More seriously, on May 21, 1972, a mentally disturbed geologist, Laszlo Toth, attacked the sculpture with a geologist’s hammer while shouting, “I am Jesus Christ; I have risen from the dead!” With 15 blows he removed Mary’s arm at the elbow, knocked off a chunk of her nose, and chipped one of her eyelids. Bob Cassilly, an American sculptor and artist from St. Louis, Missouri, was one of the first people to remove Toth from the Pietà. “I leaped up and grabbed the guy by the beard. We both fell into the crowd of screaming Italians. It was something of a scene.” Onlookers took many of the pieces of marble that flew off. Later, some were returned, but Mary’s nose wasn’t, and it had to be reconstructed from a block cut out of her back. (The same thing happened to a cousin of mine: now, whenever you slap him on the back, he sneezes.)

    I told our Vermont friend Lizzie that she had climbed into Leonard Cohen’s song “Sisters of Mercy,” in caring so relentlessly for our ailing friend Susan. I defied her to come up with a lyric more beautiful than “If your life is a leaf that the seasons tear off and condemn, they will bind you with love that is graceful and green as a stem.”

    In response, she shared one of her favorites with me: A Paul Simon song I was not familiar with, “Further to Fly.” Here’s the second chorus:

    There may come a time when I will lose you
    Lose you as I lose my light
    Days falling backward into velvet night
    The open palm of desire wants everything, it wants everything
    It wants soil as soft as summer
    And the strength to push like spring

    Thanks for stopping by. See you tomorrow.

  • Mo Says:

    Owl-chatter will resume tomorrow, after I fly home with Mom and Dad.

    Morris

    Good night!

  • Move Fast and Break Things

    Margaret Seikel’s puzzle today in the NYT pays homage to two very successful women writers: Sally Rooney who wrote “Normal People,” and Meg Cabot who wrote “The Princess Diaries.” Here’s the Irish Ms. Rooney, from County Mayo, who is only 31,

    and Ms. Cabot, 55, a Hoosier (or, if you prefer, an Indianian).

    Top them off with ROSIE the Riveter, and you’ve got a real ladies day at the NYTXW. Rosie represented the women who took jobs in the shipyards and factories during WWII, allowing the men to go off to fight.

    Who’s the real Rosie? It was originally believed the image of Rosie in the classic poster was inspired by Geraldine Doyle, who died at age 86 in 2010. In 1942, Geraldine found work as a metal presser for a machine company in Ann Arbor, MI, but quit after two weeks fearing she might injure her hands — she was a cellist.

    During her brief time at the company, a UPI photographer took a photo of her. In the 1990’s she came to believe the image in the poster was based on that photo, and the media advanced her claim.

    [Shortly after quitting her job, in 1943, she married a dentist, Leo Doyle. They had six children and remained married for 67 years, until his death in 2010. They could do it!]

    But it was later determined that the more likely model for the poster was Naomi Parker Fraley. Fraley worked in a Pratt & Whitney aircraft factory during the war, and the poster was based on a photo taken of her on the job, not Doyle. Researchers have credited her claim over that of Doyle’s but not until 2015. The long life of Doyle’s claim was attributed to the “Woozle Effect,” which occurs when a source is widely cited for a claim it does not adequately support, giving the claim undeserved credibility. Fraley died at the age of 96 in 2018. Here she is, on the job.

    Today’s theme was MOVE FAST AND BREAK THINGS, the corporate motto coined by Mark Zuckerberg for Facebook (now Meta).

    LMS thought a variant: BREAKFAST AND MOVE THINGS, could be the slogan for Kellogg’s All-Bran.

    Ben W. said: “MOVE FAST AND BREAK THINGS, in the timeline of tech startups, is actually not particularly modern. Facebook jettisoned it as a principle 7 or 8 years ago after they discovered that too many things were breaking. I worked there in 2016, during the subsequent culture shift, and boy were people having a hard time figuring out how to refocus on ‘not’ breaking things.”

    The clue for 25D was “What a budget motel might have,” and the answer was ONE STAR. It set LMS off, who said:

    “What a budget motel might have” – Where do you even start with this? An odor, for sure. A noisy thermostat that doesn’t really work. A commode with an anemic flush. A sour-smelling shower curtain. A half-clogged bathtub drain that leaves you ankle-deep in water by the time you’re done showering – that Creeps. Me. Out. I know my way around a cheap motel, buddy.

    I would add “and a very friendly Pakistani family,” at least there’s one at the very budget-y (but nice) Rodeway Inn in Brookville, PA, halfway between Detroit and Jersey, our favorite stop for Michigan trips.

    Here’s a new bad joke!!

    “Have you heard about the inattentive two-headed man? Everything you tell him goes in one ear and out the other and in one ear and out the other.”

    The “Italian pressed sandwich” at 11D was PANINI, but someone balked at that, pointing out that PANINI should be the plural form, so a single sandwich should be a PANINO. Along that line, would a single strand of spaghetti be a spaghetto? Merriam-Webster notes that panini is indeed the plural in Italian, but as adopted into English it represents a single sandwich as well, so you could even say “paninis” if you’re really hungry.

    182 years ago today, Herman Melville set off on the whaling vessel Acushnet from New Bedford, MA. Fairly new to sailing and whaling, Melville learned the ins and outs of whaling, helping to harpoon the whales, harvest them, and process their oil aboard the ship. He also listened to the tales his fellow whalers told, particularly of a legendary white sperm whale called “Mocha Dick,” that had destroyed numerous ships. In November of 1851 Moby-Dick was published in the U.S.

    Here’s a quote from it: “Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form.”

    Amen to that, Herm.

    Also on this date in 1870 construction began on the Brooklyn Bridge. The bridge opened in 1883, and for several years it was the tallest structure in the western hemisphere. 

    If you thought 2023 might bring an end to the NYTXW’s fascination with tuchases, think again. Yesterday, right up top at 10D, we had ASS-backwards, and today, near the bottom (appropriately), we had ARSES (British bottoms).

    And we heard back from Joey Babka. I posed the question to him — “Joey Babka,” I said, “where are you in the great babka debate — is a babka a cake or a bread?” He gave it some thought. Then, “It’s a babka!” he said. Well put, Joey B!

    Let’s close with a poem of Ted Kooser’s from Winter Morning Walks:

    Walking by flashlight
    at six in the morning,
    my circle of light on the gravel
    swinging side to side,
    coyote, raccoon, field mouse, sparrow,
    each watching from darkness
    this man with the moon on a leash.

  • Little Bubbe

    The lavish brunch served up to us by my wonderful Delaware cousins Dayle and Mike this morning included babka. But little did I realize as I bit into a small piece that a raging debate was flaring up in Crossworld over its classification. The clue for BABKA at 20D was “Loaf-shaped cake,” but the question was posed: Is a babka cake or bread? Rex himself notes: Wikipedia calls it a “sweet braided bread,” and specifically states it is not a cake. But Google (Oxford Languages) calls it a loaf-shaped coffee cake and “Spoon University” calls it a dense cake. Authorities can be summoned on either side of the aisle.

    Commenter Taylor Slow says: It’s interesting that some people decide whether a baked item is bread or cake based on how it’s served while others decide based on ingredients. I’ve always thought of babka as a sweet bread, because it has the yeasty consistency of bread.

    Another note called it a “cake-like bread.”

    Airymom said:

    I just browsed about a dozen cookbooks compiled by synagogue Sisterhoods. If babka was in the index, then the recipe was in the cakes and pies section. Then I looked in the index of “Spice and Spirit, the Complete Kosher Jewish Cookbook,” a large and comprehensive cookbook which some Jewish women consider the “bible” of cookbooks. If you look up “babka” in the recipe index, it reads, “Babka, see yeast cakes.” In practice, it’s also a cake. If you bake a babka, you serve it for dessert or at Kiddush (collation) after services. No one says, “I think I’ll slice two pieces of babka and make a pbj sandwich.”

    And Rebecca said:

    I grew up eating BABKA every Saturday morning and consider myself a relative expert on it. The word BABKA comes from the Yiddish word “BUBBE” (or technically “Little Bubbe”) which means “Grandmother.” Traditional BABKA was made from leftover Challah dough that your BUBBE would roll into a long and thin flat dough, spread with chocolate or cinnamon and raisins, and then roll up – for all her grandchildren to eat as sweets. Of course, any BUBBE worth her salt would make sure to make enough Challah dough so that there would be plenty extra. The end product is not all that different from a modern day chocolate danish or cinnamon roll, although instead of being baked as single servings, BABKA is baked as a loaf and the servings are sliced. Cinnamon rolls are formed in almost the exact same way, but they are sliced from the roll into patty shapes before baking. Notably, both cinnamon rolls and danish are made with egg-and-sugar enriched yeasted dough, just like Challah, so they really are the same thing, especially since there are many Challah dough recipes and it would be easy to find the same recipe labeled as Challah dough in one place and Danish dough in another. BABKA is traditionally eaten in the same contexts that one might eat a cinnamon roll or danish. These things are not quite a bread anymore despite having a base of bread dough, but they are somehow acceptable to have for breakfast with a cup of coffee, even though eating a slice of true cake in the same context would not come with the same free pass. So, is BABKA a bread or a cake? It’s a danish. Perhaps this simply semantically passes the buck on the question, because … what is a danish?

    Personally, I fall into the cake camp. But I will reserve final judgment until we hear from our friend Joe, whose nickname is Joey Babka! I’ll let you know what he says.

    The clue at 49D was “Because of,” and the answer was DUE TO. Innocuous? That’s what I thought. But apparently there is an issue here too.

    Mathgent states: I was taught in high school to use “because of” instead of “due to” at all times, but I have heard that “due to” should be used as the beginning of an adverbial phrase and “because of” should be used as the beginning of an adjectival phrase. (Huh? Then someone referred us to the following, which I can follow, but I can’t imagine maintaining the distinction in practice.)

    Technically speaking, “due to” should only be used as an adjective and come after a noun. For instance, you could say: The cancellation was due to rain. “Cancellation” is a noun, and “due to” is describing it.

    “Because of,” on the other hand, should modify verbs. So you might want to say: The game was canceled because of rain. “Was canceled” is a verb phrase, which makes “because of” the right choice.

    Owl chatter has a connection to today’s constructor: Seth Bisen-Hersh. Friends Nancy and Eric (Nancy from Brandeis, and Eric via marriage) have very close friends Wendy and Simon, whom we’ve met, albeit decades ago. And Seth is their son! Mazel Tov, Seth, Wendy, and Simon!

    Seth submitted puzzles to the NYT 38 times before having this one accepted. May this be the first of many!

    Reaching for a literary figure, Seth didn’t f**k around — he dropped heavy-hitter ANTON Chekhov into his grid at 24D. Chekhov’s big four were The Cherry Orchard, Three Sisters, Uncle Vanya, and The Seagull. Strindberg, Ibsen, and he are often referred to as the seminal figures in the birth of modernism in the theater.

    He died of tuberculosis at only 44, and this note appears in Wikipedia: Chekhov’s body was transported to Moscow in a refrigerated railway-car meant for oysters, a detail that offended [the writer] Gorky.  Some of the thousands of mourners followed the funeral procession of a General Keller by mistake, to the accompaniment of a military band. Chekhov was buried next to his father at the Novodevichy Cemetery.

    Good night everybody — thanks for stopping by!

  • Friends In High Places

    Welcome to the first post of the new year, everybody! Broadcasting tonight from the luxurious (sorta) Sheraton Suites in downtown Wilmington with adorable grandson Morris (Mo) safely tucked into his travel crib next to his folks. A lovely time was had by all at the Finkelman’s New Year’s bash, where the Nanaimo bars rocked!

    Here’s a panoramic shot of the city.

    Local Girl Makes Good. TOBIN Heath made the grid today at 60D: Soccer star ______ Heath. Born and raised in Morristown NJ, right up the road from owl chatter headquarters, Tobin has been described as  “perhaps the USA’s most skillful player” by the U.S. Soccer Federation, and she was voted the U.S. Soccer Athlete of the Year in 2016. She has won gold with the U.S. team numerous times.

    In June 2022, Heath shared a photo on Instagram of a painting she produced titled Out Now, which depicted the words “I am gay” spelled out in large, multi-colored all caps block letters. Here’s our Jersey girl taking a breather, and that painting.

    At 65A, the clue was “‘An empty set exists,’ e.g.,” and the answer was AXIOM. And here’s a comment by T Trimble that I had to read twice and that made my brain hurt a little:

    Once upon a time, “axioms” were described as “self-evident truths” from which mathematical arguments proceed. And that’s still the common meaning, as when one says, “it’s axiomatic that…”. In mathematics today, the “self-evident truth” part is dropped, but the idea that axioms are the starting points of theories is retained. So, we can write down axioms for Euclidean geometry, and we can also write down axioms for systems of non-Euclidean geometry. The derived consequences of the first theory will be inconsistent with those of the second theory, but there’s no problem, as long as we don’t claim legitimacy of one over the other, but think of them as pertaining to different mathematical worlds. You could think of axioms as provisional: if we suppose a world where such-and-such axioms are true, then certain consequences follow. Thus “truth” is relative and contextual. It took a very long time for mathematicians to attain that understanding, but it’s a commonplace today (even though the struggle continues at the logical and foundational levels).

    Questions, anybody?

    The theme of the puzzle was clever today. There was a long answer that you got by solving a clue. Then there were circled letters within that answer that formed another word. Then that “duo” was referred to in the answer to a different clue. WTF!! As I tell my students, maybe an example will help.

    The clue for 50A was “Colorado, Idaho, and Wyoming among others,” and the answer was MOUNTAIN STATES. In that answer, the letters M, A, T, E, S, were circled, giving you the word “mates.” Then at 98A the clue was “Useful people to know,” which was FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES. Get it? “Mates” are friends, and “Mountain States” are high places and the word “mates” was in the words “Mountain States.” (There were four of those.)

    Everyone’s favorite clue was “Barely sits still?” Answer: POSES NUDE.

    In yesterday’s puzzle (Saturday’s) the clue at 45A was “Didn’t wait for a restaurant job?,” and the answer was BUSED. (Get it? Wasn’t a waiter: was a bus boy.)

    Egsforbreakfast had this to say: “I’ve never understood why BUSED is preferable to bussed. Maybe I was abussed as a child. I’m sure I was a bust as a child. Later I was the victim of a bust because I stole a bust from a museum. The lady that arrested me had a bust that I still remember.”

    Did you ever make up your own language with your little brother or sister or a school friend? Me neither, but ESPERANTO is the world’s most widely spoken “constructed international auxiliary language.” Created by the Warsaw-based ophthalmologist L. L. Zamenhof in 1887, it was intended to be a universal second language for international communication, or “the international language.” The word esperanto means “one who hopes.”

    Esperanto’s vocabulary, syntax and semantics derive predominantly from languages of the Indo-European group. The vocabulary derives primarily from Romance languages, with substantial contributions from Germanic languages. Slavic languages also influenced the grammar and phonology. Prefixes and suffixes may be freely combined with roots to generate words, making it possible to communicate effectively with a smaller set of words.

    Esperanto is the most successful of this type of effort. Estimates put the number of people who know how to speak Esperanto at around 100,000. Concentration of speakers is highest in Europe, East Asia, and South America. The language has also gained a noticeable presence on the internet in recent years, as it became increasingly accessible on platforms such as Duolingo, Wikipedia, and Google Translate.

    According to Zamenhof, he created the language to reduce the “time and labor we spend in learning foreign tongues,” and to foster harmony between people from different countries: “Were there but an international language, all translations would be made into it alone . . . and all nations would be united in a common brotherhood.”

    In 1954, the UN  granted official support to Esperanto as an international auxiliary language in the Montevideo Resolution. However, it is still not one of the official languages of the UN. Esperanto has not been a secondary official language of any recognized country, but it entered the education systems of Hungary and China. The U.S. Army has published military phrase books in Esperanto. As the clue at 34D states: it has its own “green star” flag (below).

    If someone asks in Esperanto if you speak Esperanto (Ĉu vi parolas Esperanton?), you can say: Mi ne komprenas vin, which means “I don’t understand you.”

    One of the comments yesterday was: I bought an Esperanto book back in the 80s and left it on the shelf for about 30 years. Turns out you can’t learn it that way.

    Bonan nokton — Good night!

  • Happy New Year!

    No chatter today. Distracted by all six gorgeous grandkids visiting. And a dreadful Michigan defeat. Boo hoo.

    See you next year!

  • The Pumpkin King

    Here’s a text conversation with son Sam this morning:

    Sam: The party at the Finkelman’s on Sunday: Is it fancy?

    Me: Not at all. Dress for comfort.

    Sam: Okay.

    Me: Unless you’re chosen Pumpkin King. Then you’ll need a pumpkin suit. I’ll let you know.

    Sam: Yikes! I think someone else should have the honor.

    Me: No one has ever walked away from it. Don’t disgrace the family.

    Sam: Okay, I’ll pack one just in case.

    No one was surprised that ALY Raisman nailed her landing today in the grid at 32 across. She still has it, despite retiring from gymnastics three years ago at age 25. After competing in the 2012 and 2016 Olympics, she is the third-most decorated U.S. gymnast in Olympic history behind Shannon Miller and Simone Biles, with six medals.

    In the 2012 Olympics in London, in the floor final, Aly placed first with a score of 15.600, becoming the first American woman to win a gold medal on floor. Raisman, who is Jewish, performed to the tune of “Hava Nagila,” and dedicated her floor routine to the 11 Israeli Olympians killed by Palestinian terrorists at the 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich.

    In November 2017, Raisman came forward as one of the many victims sexually abused by the former Olympic team physician, Larry Nassar, starting at the age of 15. She was one of victims who read impact statements at Nassar’s sentencing.

    Aly is single.

    The NYT today had a feature listing many of the obits from 2022. In January alone, we lost Sidney Poitier (94), Ronnie Spector of the Ronettes (78), Don Maynard, HOF receiver for the Jets (86), Meat Loaf (the rocker)(74), Dwayne Hickman (described as TV’s “lovelorn” Dobie Gillis)(87), and the exquisite Yvette Mimieux (80). How depressing to read about the famous personalities who died during the year. I wrote a letter to The Times suggesting that next year they list the famous people who are born in 2023 instead. (Wait, what?)

    “For every kiss you give me, I’ll give you three.” Here are The Ronettes singing “Be My Baby” back in 1964 (Ouch!), followed by a shot of the young Yvette Mimieux, who was of French and Mexican descent, and who was nominated for three Golden Globe awards during her acting career.

    Today’s puzzle was by the wily veteran constructor Brendan Emmett Quigley, who is approaching his 200th NYT puzzle. He was certainly up to his tricks in this one. The clue for SIPHON at 38A was “Secretly pass gas?” (Tee hee.) And his great clue for TV SETS was “Objects thrown out of hotel windows, in a rock ‘n’ roll cliche.” A “metric unit equal to 100 square meters” turned out to be ARE, which was new to me. You may be more familiar with “hectare,” which is 100 ares. And did you know that the world capital whose name means “elephant trunk” in Arabic is KHARTOUM? Well, now you do. You never know when it will come up.

    How about “Place to get a platza treatment?” Huh? The answer was SAUNA, but what’s a platza treatment? It’s Russian. You lie on the hottest level of the sauna and are pummeled with a broom-like venik made of oak leaves soaked in olive-oil soap. Then you jump into a cold pool or shower. It opens your pores and removes toxins, dead skin, and $40. At least that’s the cost at the Russia and Turkish Bath House on E. 10th St., in NYC.

    “‘The Spoonful of Milk’ painter, 1912” was the clue at 14A, and the answer was CHAGALL. Here’s the painting:

    Barbara S. stated that she was aware that Chagall often included Jewish themes in his work and was wondering (as a non-Jew) if milk held any special place in Judaism. MBR responded that the Holy Land was referred to as the “Land of Milk and Honey.” I added the following to the discussion:

    “A fundamental tenet of Judaism is the forcing of food onto someone who could probably do without it. Chagall employs milk in this painting, but it could just as well be some lox or a nice blintz.”

    “MLB great with a famous ‘unbreakable’ streak, familiarly,” at 39A was JOE D, for Joe DiMaggio. The commentariat was all in a fuss over whether he was actually called “Joe D.” Several felt it was just Joltin’ Joe. Well it was certainly Joltin’ Joe but it was also certainly Joe D. No question about it. (Hrummmmph.) The “streak” is his 56-game hitting streak, i.e., he got at least one hit in 56 consecutive games. It ran from May 15 to July 16 in 1941. The previous record was 44 games by Baltimore Oriole Wee Willie Keeler. Keeler’s record had held for over 40 years (since 1897). Keeler was called Wee Willie because he was only 5′ 4″, and 140 pounds. He was a lifetime .341 hitter, and is in the Hall of Fame.

    Getting back to Joe D, the starting pitcher opposing the Yankees in the 40th game of the streak for the Philadelphia Athletics was Johnny Babich, whom DiMaggio had faced during a 61-game hitting streak he put together in the minors. (Wow!) Babich told the local press that he would end DiMaggio’s streak by getting him out in his first plate appearance and not giving him any hittable pitches afterwards. Babich induced a popout in DiMaggio’s first at-bat, and in the third inning started him off with three unhittable pitches. The fourth pitch by Babich was well outside the strike zone, but DiMaggio lunged at it and guided the ball between Babich’s legs; he ended up with a double which he said left Babich “white as a sheet.”  DiMaggio later referred to this as “the most satisfying hit of the streak.” His last at-bat (ending the streak) was against Jim Bagby, Jr., who was on in relief for the Indians. After the streak ended, DiMaggio got hits in the next 15 games.

    The last player to hit .400 was Ted Williams (.406), and it was also in 1941. But DiMaggio was named MVP due to the streak. (He hit .357 that year.) Since 1941, the closest anyone has come was Pete Rose in 1978, tying Keeler for second place at 44. Here’s an index card signed by Joe D. from my collection.

    And here’s the opening verse from Be My Baby by the Ronettes:

    The night we met I knew I needed you so
    And if I had the chance I’d never let you go
    So won’t you say you love me
    I’ll make you so proud of me
    We’ll make ’em turn their heads every place we go.

    Yes we will! Thanks for stopping by.