The Wellington Files

  • Rocket Science

    Broadcasting this morning from the Ellery Hotel in Northampton MA, exactly 16 minutes from the klezmer festival, Yidstock, at the Yiddish Book Center in Amherst, which we’re attending for the second year in a row. The opening show with the Klezmatics, the only klezmer band ever to win a Grammy, was a sellout and they brought the house down. We’ve got two afternoon shows today and a curated tour of the center tomorrow. That’s it, though: we’re only catching half of the festival this year.

    On the puzzle today — how could you not like OWLY at 6A, clued with “Big-eyed in a way?” (Hi Welly!) And at 17A for “Examines something in more depth,” the answer was DRILLS DOWN, which egs noted could also be clued with: “What the proctor says at the end of exams in dental school.”

    And sexy Renee Rapp popped in, from “Mean Girls.” (Bed head, smoky eyes.)

    Renee’s 25 and from Huntersville, NC. But don’t get too excited fellas, she’s gay and hanging out with British musician Towa Bird. There — now you’ve heard of both of them. I don’t recall seeing Towa in a puzzle yet, but those are good letters for one.

    Who’s Jason Szuminski? Glad you asked. Jason is the only major league ballplayer to come out of MIT. Pitching may not be rocket science, but if it were Jason would be ready. He earned his degree in aerospace engineering in 2000 and made his debut with the Padres on April 11, 2004, pitching a scoreless inning against the Giants, which included inducing Barry Bonds to fly out, albeit very deeply. Unfortunately, Szuminski’s MLB career lasted only a month and eventually injuries forced him out of baseball. His manager with San Diego Bruce Bochy had a great quote about him:

    “You wouldn’t know he went to MIT. He fits in well with the ballclub, not that we’re all dummies or anything.”

    Jason’s name came up because of Mason Estrada. He’s another aerospace engineering major at MIT and his 96 MPH fastball is expected to get him drafted this week. He’s unlikely to carry an MIT degree to the mound though. If he doesn’t sign with a pro team, he plans to transfer to Tennessee.

    Here’s Mason.

    Yidstock has been a blast. Eleanor Reissa turned in a beautiful performance in the early show. She said she’d never been in a shtetl but growing up in Brooklyn was a little bit like it. She learned about the sad Jews and the happy Jews, and later she learned that the happy ones were the Italians.

    Closing the store early tonight. Tired. See you next time!

  • Sidecar

    Story in the The Onion:

    High School Student, Teacher Applying For Same Summer Waitressing Job

    I learned stuff from the puzzle today, e.g. who Kathleen Edwards is. She’s a Canadian singer-songwriter from Ottawa. She’s 46, and, of course, redheads are always welcome here.

    The puzzle today played with the edges of the grid. So all of the clues on top started with “top.” (Top dog – MUTT) The clues on the bottom started with “bottom.” (Bottom dollar – BUCK) And the clues on the sides started with “side.” (Side kick – PUNT). It gave Rex enough of an excuse to share this nice song, called “Sidecar.”

    The next thing I learned is for our Math Dept. (Hi Judy!) Did you know that a trillion, which, of course, is 1,000,000,000,000, is different outside the U.S. and Canada? The clue at 20A that started this is: “Number with 12 zeros in the U.S. but 18 zeros in other parts of the world.” What? A trillion outside the U.S./Canada is 1,000,000,000,000,000,000?

    One of Rex’s Anony Mice explained it in a way I can almost understand:

    The numbers in the US/Canada are based on powers of 1000; every time you multiply by 1000, you get a new prefix. 1000^2 = 1 million (with 6 zeros), and you add another factor of 1000 to get 1000^3 = 10^9 = 1 billion (with 9 zeros), and another gives 1000^4 = 10^12 = 1 trillion (12 zeros), and so on. The “problem” with this system is that the prefix tri means 3, but trillion is 1000^4, and bi means 2 but billion is 1000^3, so there’s this “off by 1.”

    In contrast, the “long scale” used outside the U.S. is based on powers of 1,000,000 (1 million). So 1 billion is 1,000,000^2 = 10^12, what we in the US would call a trillion. 1 trillion would be 1,000,000^3 = 10^18, and this is 1000^6 so in the US it’s a quintillion. The numbers in between get the same prefixes but with -ard instead of -on. So a US billion, 10^9 = 1000^3, in the long scale is called a milliard. 1000^4 = 1,000,000^2 is a billion, and 1000^5 is a billiard, then trillion, trilliard, etc.

    A second commenter took up the baton and continued:

    To continue with the USA -illion scale, the names go up to Vigintillion, which is 1 + 63 zeros. (It’s 1 + 120 zeros outside the U.S.) I will list them in progressing order: Million, Billion, Trillion, Quadrillion, Quintillion, Sextillion, Septillion, Octillion, Nonillion, Decillion, Undecillion, Duodecillion, Tredecillion, Quattuordecillion, Quindecillion, Septemdecillion, Octodecillion, Novemdecillion, Vigintillion.
    And that’s from memory!

    At 70A, “Repeated sounds in ‘Hey Jude,’” of course is NANANA.

    Commenter kitshef picked a nit: NANANA is not repeated. NA is repeated. They come in groups of eleven, a prime number, so you could answer NA or NANANANANANANANANANANA, but not NANANA.

    Okay, thanks!

    Did you know Paul wrote the song to comfort John’s son Julian who was upset by John’s divorce from his (Julian’s) mom? It was to be called Hey Julian at first, but Paul thought Hey Jude sounded better.

    Paul: “Hey lads, do you have any ideas about how to end Hey Jude?”
    John: “Nah”
    George: “Nah”
    Ringo: “Nah”
    Paul: “Wait a second…”

    The Analogues is a Dutch band dedicated to reproducing The Beatles sound with technical accuracy — every note. They don’t care about the look or mannerisms, like run of the mill tribute bands. Engineers for The Beatles have heard them and were blown away. I couldn’t find a good version of Hey Jude. But try giving this a listen.

    I couldn’t remember the name of that band, above — The Analogues. And when casting about in my brain (and online) for it, I was reminded of “The Aristocrats.” Did you see that movie back in 2005? The entire documentary revolved around a very dirty joke that is a favorite within circles of comedians. (It was reputedly Johnny Carson’s favorite joke.) It leaves to each comic telling it to draw out the dirty parts as he or she sees fit. So it calls on each comic’s unique creative skills, albeit in a disgusting context. The film showed (and discussed) comic after comic telling it. It culminated in Gilbert Gottfried’s telling it at a Hugh Hefner roast not long after 9/11. Warning: if dirty jokes put you off, let it be.

    This poem by Ted Kooser is from Winter Morning Walks.

    When I switched on a light in the barn loft
    late last night, I frightened four flickers
    hanging inside, peering out through their holes.
    Confused by the light, they began to fly
    wildly from one end to the other,
    their yellow wings slapping the tin sheets
    of the roof, striking the walls, scrabbling
    and falling. I cut the light
    and stumbled down and out the door and stood
    in the silent dominion of starlight
    till all five of our hearts settled down.

    Heading up to the Yidstock Klezmer festival tomorrow at the Yiddish Book Center in Amherst MA. Opening band is the Klezmatics. Staying two nights at The Ellery Hotel in Northampton. Will try to broadcast from there. Back Saturday night.

    How’s your Yiddish?

  • Sirens And Such

    You talkin’ to me?

    Don’t kiss that woman!! First of all, she’s an Olympic fencer and you can barely handle a fork. Plus, who knows what’s been on those lips?

    She’s Ysaora Thibus, a woman who does not need to buy any vowels. She’s French and was suspended from fencing in February 2024, after a doping test showed the presence of ostarine, a prohibited substance which can promote muscle and bone growth, although why anyone would want to grow more bones is beyond me.

    Anyway, the good news is she was cleared on appeal when her fantastic defense held water, so to speak. Ysaora claimed her partner had been taking ostarine without her (Ysaora’s) knowledge, and it was passed to her via saliva over a nine-day period of serious kissing.

    Let’s all pause for a moment to recount those days of our youth.

    Okay, let’s continue. The appeals panel said it is “scientifically established” that the dosage ingested by Thibus’ then-partner “would have left sufficient amounts of ostarine in saliva to contaminate a person through kissing.”

    Gotta hand it to the French. Back in 2009 a French tennis player beat a charge for cocaine use with the same kissing defense. It was Richard Gasquet, but his contamination took much less than nine days, regrettably. He just kissed a woman in a Miami club, for we don’t know how long.

    Here’s a shot Phil got for us of Gasquet, the now-tight-lipped tennis star.

    Headline in The Onion:

    ICE Has Gall To Leave Raided Restaurant Negative Review.

    To defend themselves against charges that they were complicit in the deaths of over 100 children from the flooding in Texas when the Guadalupe River overflowed its banks this week, officials should show exactly how much money was saved per dead child, it seems to me. Texans are reasonable folks and once they can put an actual dollar figure on the savings for each dead ten-year-old everything should be okay.

    Officials were well aware of the danger. The area was called “Flash Flood Alley,” for f*ck’s sake. Yet the only warning “system” in place was an informal one of people upriver texting people downriver. On numerous occasions, modern but basic communication devices such as monitors and sirens were voted down as too costly. One Commissioner, H. A. “Buster” Baldwin, voted against a $50,000 engineering study saying: “I think this whole thing is a little extravagant for Kerr County, with sirens and such.” So, right there, on that part of it alone, Baldwin should take credit for personally saving the county $500 per dead child.

    Right-wing monster Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick acknowledged that flood-warning sirens “might have” saved lives. He said they needed to be in place by next summer. What’s the hurry — they on sale?

    Some states are considering changing their mottoes or marketing in light of the situation. Virginia, for example, may change from “Virginia is for Lovers” to “We Don’t Drown Our Children.”

    Sue Smith, of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) posted: I still get a quarterly paper bill for my gas. Today’s came with an unwanted bonus, a dead fly! That got me wondering, as many companies do it all electronically, how often do squashed unwanted insects end up being mailed to customers?

    John Waldron: They’ll probably claim it was alive when they sent it out.

    Keith Johnston: Airmail.

    Roy Booth: Fly posting.

    [FYI: Flyposting (also known as bill posting) is a guerrilla marketing tactic where advertising posters (also known as flyers) are put up. In the U.S., these posters are also referred to as wheatpaste posters because wheatpaste is often used to adhere the posters. Posters are adhered to construction site barricades, building façades and in alleyways.]

    We wish the Gnats well as they start a new era under new leadership. Thanks Davey and Mike: for 2019 and all the good times.

    See you tomorrow. Thanks for dropping by.

  • LLWLWWW

    The chamber music concert Sunday morning at Tanglewood exceeded our expectations. It was wonderful, running from 10 to 12:30 with a seemingly endless procession of brilliant young musicians, including one vocalist. Two of the performances were especially noteworthy. A piano piece by Schubert was written for four hands. So, course, it was played by two pianists. But, incredibly, each one of them had four hands, for a total of eight. Also, the last selection was an octet by Beethoven. But instead of having eight separate musicians performing, the piece was played by a single octopus. Extraordinary.

    There are so many paintings out there by Marc Chagall it’s hard to choose one. But this one got my goat. I mean vote.

    Chagall was born on this date in 1887 in Vitebsk, Russia. In case you’re not sure where Vitebsk is — it’s just about 10-15 miles south of Haradok. Chagall was one of nine kids and his dad worked in a herring factory. I’m guessing the dad bathed when he got home from work on at least nine occasions.

    This is from the Writer’s Almanac: “Chagall is known for bright and complex colors, and his fantastical images from Russian-Jewish folklore and his childhood: ghosts, livestock, weddings, fiddlers, scenes of his village Vitebsk, a couple floating in the sky, and fish.”

    Phil and he hit it off very nicely. Phil can schmooze with the best of them. Happy birthday, MC!

    By far, the funniest call to the bullpen I’ve ever seen . . . actually, hold on, it’s the only funny one I’ve ever seen, was by Ozzie Guillen, White Sox manager in the 2005 World Series, calling for his closer, Bobby Jenks. Jenks was a big guy — tall and, more to the point, round. Normally, a manager signals for a reliever by raising or pointing to his right hand for a righty or left for a lefty. But for Jenks Guillen opened his arms in a big circle to indicate “girth.” He wasn’t trying to be funny: It was a tense moment in an important game. But it was hysterical.

    Sadly, Jenks died in Sintra, Portugal last Friday at the young age of 44 from cancer. He moved to Portugal last year, to be near his wife’s family.

    Jenks got the last out in Chicago’s WS win over Houston in 2005. His catcher A.J. Pierzynsky compared him to Paul Bunyan and said he will never forget jumping into his arms after that last out. He was their dominant reliever through the playoffs that year and ranks second in saves in franchise history with 173. He is survived by his wife Eleni and six kids, all of whom signaled for him many times, with open arms.

    Rest in peace, Bobby.

    At 27A in the puzzle today, the clue was: One might read “FASTCAR” and the answer was VANITY PLATE. Rex took constructor Daniel Raymon to task for using such a boring one as an example. He offered a few, including:

    And:

    I didn’t get the last one until it was explained as the start to “the dingo ate my baby.” (See, also, the frame.)

    I chimed in with two more, viz.,

    When Cleveland fell behind Golden State in the 2017 NBA Finals three games to one, things looked bleak. A comeback from such a deficit had never occurred in NBA history. But the Cavs did just that. And Cleveland fan Kory Siverd came up with this great (IMO) vanity plate:

    Also, Vermont had (still has?) a plate with the motto SEE VERMONT across the bottom. And someone, fearing too many tourists perhaps, had his or her plate read DONT.

    I loved one feature of yesterday’s puzzle but it’s gonna take me a while to get there. It was a Sunday, so the grid was 21×21 instead of the daily 15×15. The center contained a keyhole with a slot containing four squares. You had to complete the puzzle to get the four clues for the squares and then solve those clues to get the word in the slot that would open the “escape room” door. (The name of the puzzle was “Escape Room.”)

    I couldn’t get it. I filled in the grid, but failed to figure out the keyhole letters. The clue for the first was the answer at 39D: END OF THE ROAD. You had to locate the answer RODEO DRIVE elsewhere in the grid as “the road.” Then the letter E at the end was the first letter in the keyhole. (I wrongly went instead with D: the last letter of “the road.”)

    The clue for the second letter was the answer at 109A which was the kids’ game FOURSQUARE. You were supposed to go the square with the #4 in it in the puzzle and use that letter (X) as the second keyhole letter.

    The clue for the third letter was my favorite. It was the answer at 93A which was UNDER THE SEA. You were supposed to use the letter C (for SEA, phonetically), and find the letter in the grid that was “under the C.” And, get this — in the entire grid (containing 441 squares) the constructors made sure there was only one letter C. And the letter “under” that C was an I so the third keyhole letter was I.

    The clue for the fourth letter was the answer at 31A which was DOESNT HAVE A CLUE. You were supposed to note that there was no clue for the answer at 76A. There was only a dash. And the crosses for 76A worked out to TEE, so the fourth letter in the keyhole was T. E-X-I-T was the “escape room” solution.

    As I noted, I was most impressed by the limiting of the entire grid to one C. (Lewis did some research and found there are normally around 8.)

    We spotted SIMU LIU in the puzzle, clued with “Star of Marvel’s first film with an Asian-led cast.”

    Simu was born in China, but raised in Canada and is a Canadian citizen. He was a business student and started off as an accountant. He lost his job after nine months but has been doing much better in show biz, kinahora, even making it into the NYTXW already. He’s 36 and engaged to a marketing manager Allison Hsu. Here they are together. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess any kids they have won’t be ugly.

    How could I not fall for a poem that starts “The refrigerator is the highest honor . . . ?” I’d sooner let a blond Danish drill sergeant get away. It’s by Paul Hostovsky and is called “Poem on the Fridge.”

    The refrigerator is the highest honor
    a poem can aspire to. The ultimate
    publication. As close to food as words
    can come. And this refrigerator poem
    is honored to be here beneath its own
    refrigerator magnet, which feels like a medal
    pinned to its lapel. Stop here a moment
    and listen to the poem humming to itself,
    like a refrigerator itself, the song in its head
    full of crisp, perishable notes that wither in air,
    the words to the song lined up here like
    a dispensary full of indispensable details:
    a jar of corrugated green pickles, an array
    of headless shrimp, fiery maraschino cherries,
    a fruit salad, veggie platter, assortments of
    cheeses and chilled French wines, a pink
    bottle of amoxicillin: the poem is infectious.
    It’s having a party. The music, the revelry,
    is seeping through this white door.

    Michelle AKERS, 59, is one of the greatest female soccer players who ever lived. Of course, I never heard of her. Her clue in the puzzle noted she scored 107 international goals. She starred in the 1991 and 1999 Women’s World Cup and 1996 Olympics victories by the U.S. At the 1991 World Cup, she won the Golden Shoe as the top scorer, with ten goals.

    This is what Wikipedia says about her personal life: From 1990 to 1994, she was married and was known as Michelle Akers-Stahl. Later she married again (2003–2007) and had a son in Orlando, Florida. She has had several horses since 1996.

    Wait. What?

    So the other night, my wife told me to take out the garbage. I said, “I already took out the garbage.” She said, “Well, go keep an eye on it.” (Rodney D.)

    Posted by my niece Tamar on Facebook: We find all sorts of cool rocks on our farm all the time, but these are perhaps the most beautiful. Can anyone tell me what they are? Sonoma County, California.

    I commented: You got it right — they’re rocks.

    Alistair Hall of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) posted (with photo): Not sure if this is a dull or not but it certainly fails to interest those I talk to about it. Yet it is beginning to consume me. Why do musicians particularly those playing a stringed instrument appear to strain their facial muscles when playing a high note? I get why vocalists might but surely there’s no additional effort for anyone else. I’ve even tried to play air guitar the opposite way (straining upon lower frequencies and relaxing on a higher note) and it’s nigh on impossible.

    Gareth Rizzla White: As a guitar player I can confirm that it is impossible to play some things without presenting a grimace. It’s the emotion.

    Also, if you are soloing then you generally ‘sing’ the notes in your mind as you play, and your fizzog matches the notes. Hitting a big bend on a ‘pinch’ harmonic will see me scowling like a wolf on a full moon!

    Alistair: I suspect the second paragraph has more to do with it (usually) than the former. Also really enjoying the word ‘fizzog’. That’s worth a facial reaction in itself.

    Doreen Marsh: Ooh, “fizzog,” a word I haven’t used since the (big) kids were little.

    [Fizzog: a person’s face or expression. British; informal.]

    Alain Davis: You don’t really get music do you?

    Fleur Davies: “But you don’t really care for music, do you?” could have been a more apt reply.

    Fleur: Hallelujah.

    Alistair:  Indeed I do. Nevertheless the relationship between high notes and grimace is a legitimate question. I understand that an emotional climax may well be be paired with the top of a scale, a key change, or a crescendo of some kind. However, there are equally as many pained musical moments sitting on deeper, quieter pitches which would not be mirrored by many instrumentalists.

    Andy Williamson: It’s called “guitar face.” Musicians have been talking about/laughing about/recognising/taking the piss bout it for years. 

    Kriss McHenry: It’s called Soul.

    Glen Andreozzi: Not really a grimace. More of a face in a state of pure joy from being in the moment and creating a pleasing sound from the instrument he loves to play. Creating music is an emotional experience.

    Mike Alexander: Because we are apes. We naturally express emotions through our facial muscles. This is not specific to guitarists – pianists, violinists, cellists all do it. I guess it’s different for brass and woodwind players, since more of their facial muscles are required in actually playing the notes. But look at their eyes and eyebrows and you will see the same effect in action. For that matter, why do singers close their eyes so much?

    Paul Barnard: Not always true. I give you….. Mark Knopfler: No expression at all.

    Andy Bound: I pull a face for no reason as a matter of course. I keep sticking my bottom lip out poutily all the time. Help me.

    Joe Giggs: Turn of the screw. Blues hurts. That note could take you anywhere and it can bring relief or anguish. You could be half way to the note you intended to reach but need to push a little harder, with every inch of you wishing the string wouldn’t break, but if it did you’d be right there with it.

    Alastair: Thank you: very poetic.

    See you tomorrow.

  • The Plenty of Time

    Broadcasting today from the Berkshire Valley Inn, Hancock MA. Good morning Chatterheads!

    It’s just a bit after 7, haven’t even had my coffee yet, but I’ve already learned something new – what a QUIPU is. Were you already ahead of me on this one? It was at 46D: “Record-keeping device made of strings and knots.” Seems along the lines of an abacus.

    Okay! Since we took care of learning one thing new every day early, we can go back to spending the rest of day drunk and staring blankly into space.

    One of our favorite spots up here is the Tunnel City coffee place in Williamstown, but I muffed our order yesterday. I asked for coffee and said, strongest or darkest roast please. The woman asked me: “Flavor or caffeine?” I thought she was asking if I wanted it flavored and separately if I wanted it decaf or caf (since it was relatively late in the day (1 pm). I certainly did not want it flavored, nor decaf, so I just said “caffeine.” Did you catch my error?

    She was asking about my request for their “strongest” brew: did I want it strongest in the sense of taste (flavor), or strongest for the caffeine punch? Had I understood the question, I would have asked for “flavor.” We like a nice strong-tasting brew. So I blew it and we got a weak-tasting shitty cup that kept us up all night. (Just kidding — it tasted crappy but we slept well.)

    She probably would have exchanged the cup if I explained my error, but I didn’t ask. She could have been clearer in posing her question (I do have two graduate degrees), but it was, at bottom, my error.

    But never mind my bottom — you don’t care beans about this anyway, amirite? (My Aunt Ida (aleha hashalom) used to say: I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And my sister thanks you from her bottom as well.)

    Do you guys play Wordle? If you do, you may not be interested to hear that today’s puzzle was constructed by Tracy Bennet, the editor of Wordle! And at 41A the clue was “Getting in one guess, as Wordle.” The answer was ACING. Rex took issue with it (voo den?). “ACING implies a demonstration of ability, whereas getting Wordle in 1 is just dumb luck.”

    I enjoyed Rex’s nit-picking on TSKS. At 60A the clue was “Somewhat audible disparagements,” and the answer was TSKS. Rex wrote: “Not getting the ‘somewhat’ on this clue. Tsks are definitely audible, or else they don’t work. If a disparagement falls in the woods and nobody hears it … did you even disparage, bro?”

    It opened the door for me to post: “If a man says something in the forest, and his wife is not there to hear him, is he still wrong?”

    Bennett, the constructor, is also from Michigan. At 29A the clue was “Michigan’s _____ Marquette River (waterway named for a missionary), and the answer was PERE. (Sam! – you hear of this guy?) Pere means “Father.” His first name was Jacques. The river is in the western part of the state and runs into Lake Michigan.

    By far, the weirdest part of the puzzle was at 22A: “Eerie phenomenon when a robot seems too lifelike.” The answer was UNCANNY VALLEY. It’s the psychological effect related to the creepiness you feel when a robot is just a little too lifelike. There’s a “make-up trend” on it too. Does this strike you as creepy? (If not, what the hell is wrong with you, mate?)

    Rex took issue with the completeness of the clue, viz.,

    I don’t think UNCANNY VALLEY is clued quite right (22A: Eerie phenomenon when a robot seems too lifelike). The point isn’t that it’s “too lifelike”—it’s that it’s both too lifelike and not lifelike enough. That’s the valley. The “eeriness” is when the robot crosses that threshold into “close but not there.” Lots of A.I.-created animation falls in this category for me. See also, famously, the animation in Polar Express (2004). Anyway, you can’t have the titular “valley” if you don’t have both the concept of “too lifelike” *and* the concept of “not lifelike enough.” See … the valley is not a mythical place, it’s a literal shape on a graph:

    This is a character from Polar Express. Yup, I can see it.

    The following poem by John Daniel is from the Writer’s Almanac today.

    The Pelicans of San Felipe

    do most of their fishing asleep on the sand,
    great bills lowered to their breasts.
    Overhead the gulls cry now, and now,
    but the pelicans drowse in the plenty of time.
    The sand is warm, the breeze enfolds them,
    the steady waves rumble and slosh.
    Two or three together through the afternoon,
    they raise their monkish white heads
    and lift from the beach, mute as in sleep,
    winging their way above the green swells
    to join the others now circling low,
    and circling low, and each in its moment
    with a quick tilt of wings falls hard,
    gracelessly smacks the sea—
    then bobbing up quickly, riding the swells,
    wild gulls veering and screaming around them,
    the pelicans lift their bills and swallow.

    A very odd bird is the pelican.
    Its beak holds more than its bellycan.

    Ogden Gnash

    Lovely group walk late morning, not far from Five Corners.

    At 45A, “Like Brutalist architecture” was BLOCKY.

    Commenter Jberg weighed in on the matter: Here is a picture of the Carpenter Center for the Visual Arts at Harvard, well-known as Brutalist. Not particularly BLOCKY. I think the puzzle is operating under the assumption that “brutalist” means “brutish.” It does not; the name comes from bruton, the French word for concrete; the architectural style takes advantage of the ability of concrete to take on many shapes, including curves, that are difficult to achieve with more traditional materials–sort of a precursor of Frank Gehry. Sometimes it is blocky, sometimes it is not.

    I think that’s enough nonsense for us for the day. See you next time!

  • Bad Circus

    Brian Graham of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) shared the following with the membership:

    For the first time ever!!! This morning when I was preparing my usual breakfast of coffee and toast, the kettle clicked and the toast popped out of the toaster at exactly the same time. What a start to the day! As you can imagine, I will definitely be keeping ’em peeled in the future for such another moment of synchronicity and serendipity. I will have a spring in my step for the rest of the day for sure!

    Brian Mansfield: I can’t think of anything worse, did you pour the water while the toast sat cooling in the toaster? Did you prepare your toast while the teabag sat dry and unbrewing in the cup? No, this synchronicity is wrong and not something to be sought after, the kettle should always be slightly ahead so the tea can be poured and brewing as your toast pops and is spread.

    Avi Liveson: Those are certainly practical considerations, but they miss the magic of the moment — the universe reaching out to Brian.

    Neil Johnson: Quick – go and buy a lottery ticket, or a scratchcard, or something.

    Rob Taylor: You’re on the cusp of being too exciting for this group.

    Nigel Charles Scriven: FFS [for f*ck’s sake], have you EVER thought about cleaning your toaster, kettle and work surfaces… Looks absolutely fecking rank!

    John Hannon: Are you living in a cave in Afghanistan or can’t be arsed to clean up?

    Alice Green: Did the ceiling fall down at the same time?

    Avi Liveson: Thank you for sharing this! Made my morning too!

    How bruising a hitter was Dave Parker? This sentence is taken from his Wikipedia page: “Parker’s power hitting resulted in an at-bat that ‘knocked the cover off the ball’ upon landing in the outfield, complicating the subsequent attempt to return it to play.” The only place I’ve seen that happen is in cartoons.

    Parker was born in Grenada Mississippi and died last week from Parkinson’s at the age of 74 in Cincy, 29 days before he was to be inducted into the Hall of Fame. He’ll be inducted posthumously (i.e., after the hummus is served).

    Parker was a phenomenal ballplayer. He hit for power and average, ran with great speed, and played right field with an extraordinary throwing arm. His lifetime batting average was .290 for a career that spanned 19 seasons, with 339 homers and 1,493 RBI. He won two batting titles, three gold gloves, was an all-star seven times, and was the NL MVP in 1978. He won the World Series with the Pirates in 1979 and Oakland in 1989.

    “I could do it all,” Parker said in a 2019 interview. “I vocalized quite a bit. People tell me that I ‘played angry.’ That’s what I did, and it worked for me. But I always played hard, and I respected my fellow man. I did everything on the field that I could.”

    To liven up the clubhouse, Parker made up a t-shirt that said “If you hear any noise, it’s just me and the boys boppin’.” It became quite popular.

    Former Pittsburgh manager Clint Hurdle who had to face Parker’s Pirates as a player said, “Back when I played, when the Pirates showed up, it was like a bad circus was coming to town. They had so many different weapons.”

    Parker is survived by his wife Kellye and their six boppin’ kids.

    Rest in peace, Dave.

    Today’s puzzle, by veteran constructor Adam Wagner, is more than just brilliant: it’s boppin’. The theme is “blinkers,” as in your car: right and left. Try to follow this, it’s complicated. Each long across answer had two letters in circles, the first one an L for the left blinker, and the second an R. You were given two clues. The first is answered with an L in the L circle (blinking on), but the R circle blank, and the second clue, vicey versey (the R “blinking” on, but the L blank).

    An example may help. The two clues at 50A were: “Area with no coverage? / Sore loser.” And the answers were BA(L)D SPO(–)T, with the L for the left blinker, but no R; and then BA(–)D SPO(R)T, with the L not there, but the R popping in as the right blinker. Can you see it?

    That happened four times for the four theme across answers. But then (!!) where the L and R were, the crossing words also had two clues, one for when the L or R was there and one for when it wasn’t! (Get it? They were “blinking” on and off.) So, e.g., the two down clues at 40D for the L in BALD SPOT were “Does some genetic manipulation on / Some aromatics.” So it was SPLICES with the L, and SPICES without it.

    So there were a total of 12 double clues that all worked together as the acrosses “blinked” from L and R, and each L and R “blinked” on and off for the crossing downs.

    I don’t think I conveyed how masterful it all was. A wordplay classic, IMO.

    And watching all of this from his perch at 7D was the too handsome PEDRO Pascal, clued via his role in The Mandalorian.

    Pascal is 50. He had an eventful infancy. He was born in Chile, but his parents were listed as enemies of the Pinochet regime so they took refuge in the Venezuelan Embassy for six months after which they got their asses out of the country and received asylum in Denmark. Pedro was under a year old when all of this was going on, so his feelings were pretty much ignored except for those relating to diaper changes. The family eventually settled in the U.S. and Pedro earned a BFA at NYU. He is unmarried even with that punim but has dated a bunch of actresses he’s worked with, including his equal in gorgeousness, Robin Tunney.

    Phil! She’s stuck — put your stupid camera down, and help her up!! What the hell is wrong with you?

    Mixed feelings with the Gnats playing Detroit last night — both my teams! Rooted for DC. They took an early small lead and squandered it, as feared, but all hell broke loose in their half of the eighth — six runs for a 9-4 Gnats lead going into the ninth. We didn’t expect much more to happen, but then this did:

    Yikes! A superhuman catch by Gnats centerfielder Jacob Young. I love his sweet smile and aw shucks reaction. And Finnegan’s disbelief on the mound. The whole stadium erupted; it was a purely wonderful moment. Kevin Frandsen, the Gnats announcer, praised catcher Riley Adams for going to the mound and stalling for time so the incredulous joy could be extended. The catch was replayed on the big scoreboard screen and you could see Young watching along with the rest of us. Can it be that even he didn’t believe it? Bravo Jacob.

    At 8A, the clue was “‘Buffalo soldier, dreadlock _____’ (Bob Marley lyric),” and the answer was RASTA.

    I’m just a Buffalo soldier, in the heart of America. Fighting on arrival; fighting for survival.

    Finally, at 11D, the clue was “State park in the Santa Monica Mountains” and the answer was TOPANGA. So, turn it up and we’ll let our Topanga Cowgirl send us off tonight. See you tomorrow, when, who knows, maybe the toast will pop at just the right instant again! Do you feel lucky?

    We’re heading up to the Berkshires tomorrow with Welly and Wilma for the annual festivities. Will try to broadcast from the motel, but can’t guarantee anything.

    Happy Birthday, America! Hang in there.

  • Et Tu Pennsylvania?

    The puzzle started right off today with a gimme. At 1A the clue was “[blank] salad” and the answer, of course, was COBB.

    Commenter Les S. More wrote: “Just what is a COBB salad? I’m not much of a salad fan to begin with – they seem to be an excuse to serve food without much thought and minimal prep skills – but I have seen them featured on menus. Never ordered one. For me to deliberately ask for salad it must be proceeded by the word Caesar (and, yes, include the anchovies) or be followed by the word Nicoise (with tuna, please).”

    I try to be helpful, so I posted the following reply:

    The Cobb salad memorializes the great ballplayer Ty Cobb. To a “field” of greens is added shavings from leathery old baseball mitts and bats. It’s topped with a pine tar dressing, and is almost exclusively served to in-laws.

    At my age, if the offer is Danish women, I take the danish. But for those of you young single fellas out there who would love nothing more than to win the heart of a sweet Copenhagen lass (see below), there’s a great way to meet them: Join the army! Denmark has announced it will start drafting women into its armed forces. It’s part of its response to the growing threat of Russian expansionism.

    Denmark’s population is 6 million, with about 16,600 in uniform. It’s seeking to increase annual recruits to 6,500, up from 4,700 last year. The decision to include women in the draft was needs-based, not in the service of “equality.” Women have been allowed to volunteer, and they make up around 10 percent of the armed forces.

    So, fellas, if you play your cards right, Freja here could be your drool sergeant. I mean drill sergeant.

    At 3D, the clue was “Step up from an upright piano,” and the answer was BABY GRAND. But it apparently got on the goat of one commenter who ranted: A BABY GRAND is not one step up from an upright; a SPINET is. Then comes a PETIT GRAND, then BABY GRAND. [Hrrrrrumph.]

    In the constructor’s defense, the clue did not say “one” step up. But I should probably stay out of it. These Crossworld melees get ugly pretty fast. The last thing I need is a crazy cruciverbalist on my tuchas.

    Here’s a little key-pounder who’s almost as cute as my Zoey.

    I’m ashamed to hold a law degree from the University of Pennsylvania. And angry. Let’s go over it.

    Lia Thomas is a helluva swimmer. Like, championship level. She’s also a transgender woman, so she was careful to follow the rules for the NCAA swim competitions when she was at Penn. The key test under NCAA guidelines was hormonal. Upon submitting to it, Lia was cleared to compete as a woman. I’m not going to go over her accomplishments: She set records and won championships, including a National title.

    Of course, Trump’s hate-motivated campaign against the transgender community resulted in pressure on Penn to adopt an anti-trans stance and revoke Thomas’s achievements. Rather than fight the administration and maintain a principled stance, Penn has caved in to Trump lock, stock, and barrel. California, Minnesota, and others are fighting. Capitulation was not the only option. In fact, it should not have been an option. What would Penn have done if the order pertained to Blacks, Jews, Asians?

    But it’s not just capitulation — it’s groveling, dishonest, and disgusting. In a statement required by the Department of Education as part of the agreement, Penn President J. Larry Jameson said Tuesday that, although the university’s rules during the 2021-2022 season complied with NCAA eligibility rules at the time, the university agreed to the resolution [stripping Thomas of her wins] so that current student-athletes could continue to compete. And Penn agreed to send personalized apology letters to every female swimmer “who experienced a competitive disadvantage or experienced anxiety because of the policies in effect at the time,” Jameson said.

    What the f*ck! A kiss-ass apology?? I sent a letter to Jameson that contained one word: Disgraceful.

    Get this: Jameson’s statement ended with: “Our commitment to ensuring a respectful and welcoming environment for all of our students is unwavering.”

    Of course he means “for some of our students.” Penn’s motto is “Leges sine moribus vanae.” That translates to “Laws without morals are useless.” Where are the morals here?

    It could not be more clear that the administration’s anti-trans campaign is motivated by, and feeds off of, hatred and cruelty. Et tu, Pennsylvania?

    Here’s Lia. We’re with you, girl.

    Thank God today’s poem in the Writer’s Almanac is by Ted Kooser. Maybe it will calm me down. It’s called “In the Corners of Fields.”

    Something is calling to me
    from the corners of fields,
    where the leftover fence wire
    suns its loose coils, and stones
    thrown out of the furrow
    sleep in warm litters;
    where the gray faces
    of old No Hunting signs
    mutter into the wind,
    and dry horse tanks
    spout fountains of sunflowers;
    where a moth
    flutters in from the pasture,
    harried by sparrows,
    and alights on a post,
    so sure of its life
    that it peacefully opens its wings.

    Nope. Still upset. See you tomorrow.

  • Julia

    Here’s a post by John Leigh of the Dull Men’s Club (UK):

    This is a picture of the bathroom in our Belgian hotel. I have never seen sockets so near to a tap before. Do the continentals not electrocute themselves?

    Kevin Hitch: That’s why you don’t meet many Belgians.

    Rob Ashlee: Do you not know Sparky the Belgian?

    Paul Tennant: Sockets are too high. If lower they could be rinsed out more easily.

    Nick Ward: Only shaver sockets are allowed in the bathroom in the UK. No standard (UK 3-pin) power sockets allowed. Lights must be pull chord (most common) or have the switch outside the room.

    Facundo Alvarez: I’ve been forced to shave in the kitchen everywhere I go because of this British nonsense.

    Avi Liveson: My wife often saves time doing her hair by sticking a finger into a socket.

    Sticking with the DMC (UK) for just another moment, Mac O Conchobhair writes:

    Two for £4. Hmmm. Tempting. Think I’ll just buy the one and save 25/50p.

    David Sean Goodchild: When they started selling coffee in the recyclable pouches, it cost more than the glass jars…..that pissed me off for a good two years.

    Paul Clark: Time to move on, David.

    [Do you think “Mac O Conchobhair” is his real name?

    His club profile page says he’s a “stable hand at Lead a Horse to Water Saddlery.” It also includes this, below, so I’m pegging him as a mensch.]

    I should re-dub Bruni’s For The Love Of Sentences feature as “Darn, I Wish I Could Write Like That.” This week he has Jonah Goldberg in The Dispatch describing the panicked neediness of his dogs when thunder strikes: “Yesterday, during a hellacious storm, the girls barged into my office while I was on a Zoom meeting like a SWAT team with a no-knock warrant.”

    From The Onion:

    Yo-Yo Ma Finally Works Up Courage To Tell Parents He’s Quitting Cello

    When I cannot sing my heart
    I can only speak my mind, Julia

    Our classical music station (WQXR) played an instrumental version of a Beatles song this morning. I had forgotten how beautiful it is. The host said it is credited to Lennon and McCartney, but it was written by John Lennon and Julia was his mom who died when she was only 44 when struck by a car.

    One advantage of being 75 years old: You don’t have to worry about dying young anymore.

    Wilyer Abreu of the Red Sox did something last night that had not been done for almost 67 years (since 8/3/58). He hit both an inside-the-park home run and, later, a grand slam. It was Roger Maris who did it back in ’58. The four others who accomplished the unusual feat were (7/4/39) Jim Tabor; (8/4/30) Charlie Gehringer; (7/4/1923) Everett Scott; and (6/5/1890) Jocko Fields.

    I have Jim Tabor’s autograph. His career ran from 1938 through 1947. It’s worth about $50, I’d guess. (Also have Maris and Gehringer.) His Wikipedia page does not mention this feat, but says that on 7/4/1939 he hit four homeruns in a double-header, including two grand slams in consecutive innings. I found an article about the game and it states the second grand slam was the inside-the-park HR, but they were not hit in consecutive innings. Last point on this — also in the lineup with Tabor that game were 4 future Hall of Famers: Ted Williams, Jimmy Foxx, Joe Cronin, and Bobby Doerr.

    Only 13 players have hit two grand slams in a single game. One of them was a pitcher, Tony Cloninger, who hit no other grand slams in his entire career. Jim Northrup hit his two on consecutive pitches, and Fernando Tatis (Sr.) hit both of his in the same inning. Only one of the thirteen accomplished his feat in his home stadium: Nomar Garciaparra in Fenway Park.

    OK, enough.

    Learned two things from the NYTXW today. First, at 53D “‘Overnight’ breakfast option” is OATS. You hear about this? What you do is take some oats and add milk. Then you can also add things like yogurt, honey, blueberries, cinnamon, whatever. Seal it up like in a mason jar and let it sit in the fridge overnight. Just eat it cold in the morning. People seem to swear by it.

    Second, at 64A, Actress Thompson of “Selma” and “Creed” is TESSA. I’m going to let her say goodnight for us. See you tomorrow!

  • Are You Talkin’ To Me?

    Let’s greet the day with this tart poem from The Writer’s Almanac by Sheila Packa called “Rhubarb.”

    Celebrate bitter things
    after long winter
    rhubarbs’ red green stalks
    and partial sun
    shared with cutworm and fly
    and ants that come—
    no house can resist their arrival.
    Life’s too much or not enough—
    savor the undernote of butter.
    Smile in dandelions’ faces
    after the rabbits take other blossoms.
    Taste from the plate I’ve heaped
    tart rhubarb
    ripe strawberries and sugar.

    How good a hitter is James Wood of the Gnats? Well, he singled in the first inning yesterday against the Angels, but so what? When he came up in the fourth, he grounded out. In the fifth, he was walked intentionally, and he was walked intentionally again in the seventh. It was a tight, back-and-forth game with neither team leading by more than a run and it was 4-3 LA after seven. The last thing the Angels needed was for Wood to jack one over the fence, as he has done 22 times already this season, some of them pretty scary drives. So they walked him intentionally again in the ninth, after Jacob Young’s timely two-strike single tied the game. The game advanced into extra innings. Neither team scored in the tenth, which gave Wood another at-bat in the eleventh. The astute among you may see where this is going: He was intentionally walked again. But the Gnats had done more than enough damage by then and a well-rested Kyle Finnegan blew through 3 crisp innings for the win.

    Wood’s four intentional walks tied Barry Bonds, Andre Dawson, Roger Maris, and Manny Ramirez, but that’s not the record. Dawson was put on first a fifth time for the record back on May 22, 1990. He was with the Cubs and it was Cincy that wanted no part of him.

    Wood, who is only 22 and from Rockville MD, is having a phenomenal year, kinahora. He’s making Gnat fans feel better about losing Juan Soto. Wood was obtained by the Gnats from San Diego in the trade for Soto, along with all-star SS CJ Abrams and ace starter MacKenzie Gore. Here’s JW.

    As for the Mets: WTF!!?? After racing out to the best record in the majors, they hit the skids, losing ten out of eleven. Ouch. They appeared to right the ship taking two from Los Bravos leading into last weekend. Then all hell broke loose. Against the lowly Pirates in Pittsburgh, the Mets lost all three games by scores of 9-1, 9-2, and 12-1. That’s a total of 30 runs against and only 4 for. How bad is that? Well, it’s the worst three game series in Mets franchise history, including 1962 when they set all sorts of losing records, albeit lovably, in their first year.

    Phil said the Mets were all too embarrassed to show their faces, but he got this nice shot of gorgeous PNC Park, where the Pirates play. That’s the Clemente Bridge in the background, spanning the Allegheny River.

    Remember this?

    I know exactly what you’re thinking — what a great idea for a crossword puzzle theme! At 36A in today’s NYTXW the clue was “Classic Robert De Niro line in ‘Taxi Driver,’ and a hint to the four theme answers.” Of course, it was ARE YOU TALKIN TO ME? And the four themers were exclamations that end with a person’s name, one of which was new to me:

    “GEEZ, LOUISE!” (17A: “My heavens!”)
    “WHOA, NELLY!” (25A: “Hold it right there!”)
    “NO WAY, JOSE!” (51A: “Absolutely, positively not!”)
    “BYE, FELICIA!” (61A: “I’m done with you!”)

    “Bye, Felicia” is a dismissive sendoff to get some idiot out of your face. The phrase originally comes from a scene in the 1995 film Friday in which Ice Cube’s character says “Bye, Felisha” to dismiss Angela Means’ character, Felisha. Due to the phrase being spread orally, it morphed into “Bye Felicia” and that’s now the most popular variation.

    In last Tuesday’s puzzle “How two foes confront each other” was the clue for MANO (as in mano a mano). Rex noted many people think it means man to man, but it means hand to hand. D’oh! I was one of them. Similarly, the word “manhandled” doesn’t mean manhandled — it means handhandled. [Wait, what?]

    This poem is from The Poetry Foundation. It’s by Czeslaw Milosz and is called “A Song On the End of the World.”

    On the day the world ends
    A bee circles a clover,
    A fisherman mends a glimmering net.
    Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
    By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
    And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.

    On the day the world ends
    Women walk through the fields under their umbrellas,
    A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
    Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
    And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
    The voice of a violin lasts in the air
    And leads into a starry night.

    And those who expected lightning and thunder
    Are disappointed.
    And those who expected signs and archangels’ trumps
    Do not believe it is happening now.
    As long as the sun and the moon are above,
    As long as the bumblebee visits a rose,
    As long as rosy infants are born
    No one believes it is happening now.

    Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet
    Yet is not a prophet, for he’s much too busy,
    Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
    There will be no other end of the world,
    There will be no other end of the world.

    Warsaw, 1944

    [Milosz was born on this date in 1911 in what is now Lithuania. He won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1980. ]

    We were looking forward to a Clark-Bueckers matchup last Friday, but Caitlin was out with an injured groin. PB scored 27, but Caitlin’s Fever clipped Paige’s Wings 94-86.

    Rex Parker, one of the patron saints of Owl Chatter, was away for a few days, and returned today. Part of his vacation was spent birding, and he shared this neat picture.

    See you tomorrow Chatterheads!

  • Half Past Canal Street

    KABLOOEY! What a great word to have in a puzzle! The clue was simply “Shot.” Tough puzzle, at least for me. Right off the bat, the clue at 1A was “Fire-breathing antagonist of Mario in the Mario universe,” and I had no idea the answer was BOWSER. Compounding the crime, the clue at 16D was “Turtle-shelled flunky of 1-Across.” I was supposed to know that’s KOOPA TROOPA. And did you know ANGELICA is a “Sweet wine of California?” That’s what it is on a Saturday — on a Monday it/she might be ANGELICA Huston. The clues make a puzzle easy or hard; not the answers. That’s why at tournaments the different levels of difficulty can have the same answers.

    Hi Babe — Wow — looking good, AH! Doesn’t seem like you’re getting in, Phil. Just back away buddy.

    This story is a paean to bad jokes. It’s from tomorrow’s Met Diary and is by Joanna Decamp.

    Dear Diary:

    The Museum of Modern Art beckoned that late fall day, but it was packed. My favorite pieces were obscured by the crowds.

    Stopped in front of Matisse’s “Dance” for a quiet moment, I noticed a young man standing slightly behind me. I don’t remember what he said but we began walking through the gallery together before circling back to the Matisse.

    Would I join him in a cup of coffee” he asked.

    I nodded.

    A wry smile emerged on his otherwise serious face.

    “I don’t know if I can find a cup big enough!” he said.

    I laughed.

    Fifty-two years later, the dance continues.

    Just a smidge to the right, fellas! Easy does it!

    And here’s a joke:

    So this woman passes away and her husband calls the minister of their church, and the minister says he’ll take care of setting up a beautiful service. And he does. The choir sings beautifully, the minister makes a lovely eulogy, and six handsome young men from the congregation take up the coffin to carry it out the back of the church. But they have to carry it through a narrow hallway, and there’s a turn in it, and they bump the coffin into the wall. The bump knocks the top off and the wife’s body is thrown forward, and, miraculously, she comes back to life!! Incredible! It’s written up in the local papers and viewed as a miracle.

    Eight years go by. She dies. I guess we can say she dies again. So the minister sets up another service. The choir sings beautifully again, and the minister makes another lovely eulogy, this time including the amazing story. Then, again, six handsome young men (a different six) pick up the coffin to walk it out back. When they get to the turn in the hall, the husband jumps out of his seat and yells: “Careful around that turn, fellas! Easy does it now!!”

    Enough was enough.

    Scottish actress/filmmaker Karen Gillan was in the puzzle, a newcomer as far as I can tell. But redheads are always welcome. Thanks for stopping by, KG. Can’t offer you a Diet Pepsi for about seven years. Sorry. Our soda man George is in jail. But sit down — take a load off. Thanks for dropping in.

    What was Phil doing for this shot? Jeez Louise. If looks could kill . . . .

    Have you noticed that every once in a while, life picks you up by your neck, hurls you against the wall, and gives you a good kick in the ribs? Our beautiful grandson Isaac, Caity’s and Dan’s youngest, was in the ICU the last two nights with infected kidneys and soaring blood pressure from an undetected case of strep throat. But the latest report is that he’s responding well to treatment. And Caity sent us this shot of him with the caption “Just chillin’.”

    We love you Izzy! Please don’t scare us again. I’m running out of heart pills.

    Here’s another piece from tomorrow’s Met Diary. It’s by Richard Younger and is a paean to the subway.

    Dear Diary:

    The lady with butterfly eyelashes is tapping furiously at her phone. The motorman is singing “I’ve been working on the railroad” in a rich basso.

    The local mariachis are playing “La Bamba” for the third time, so I give them my last dollar and board the N.

    It’s half past Canal Street and a quarter to Union Square. Of course, I’m running late.

    Are these what he meant by butterfly eyelashes? Maybe not.

    I’m going to team up with the veteran Rex commenter Egs now for some wordplay in the service of a few seriously bad jokes. Here’s a bunch of answers from today’s puzzle with their clues in parens: TO DATE (So far); SARONG (Bit of unisex attire); AWLS (Some tools for saddlers); CASES (Hungarian has 18 of them (yikes!)).

    This is what we came up with:

    Egs:

    Friend 1: Hey, have you found any interesting girls on eharmony?
    Friend 2: None TODATE. But, say, do we have enough beer for the party?
    Friend 1: We’ve got more CASES than the Hungarian language!
    Friend 2: 19?

    Me:

    AWLS well that ends well.

    One SARONG may be a bit of unisex attire, but two SARONGs don’t make a saright.

    So what does two sarongs make? A good time, judging by these ladies.

    Speaking of good times, did somebody say “mariachi band?” Ever see one? I mean a real one? Years ago Sam and I were down in Laredo Texas for my nephew Jared’s wedding (Hi Sam!), and Jared’s work buddies surprised him by having a mariachi band suddenly appear in the middle of the reception. They were fantastic — the horns, the outfits — best wedding gift ever. It was an outdoor wedding but they blew the roof off the damn place.

    That was the same trip we spent time in San Antonio and visited The Alamo. I remember!

    Check out this band. Turn it up! Wake up the neighborhood!

    Was talking to friend who said his kid went to a really tough school. It’s the only high school he knows where the school paper has an obituary section. At parent-teacher night, some guy pulled a knife on him. He knew it wasn’t a pro, though — there was butter on it. He asked a cop how long it took to walk to the subway and the cop said “I don’t know — no one’s ever made it.”

    Whew. That does sound like a tough school. See you tomorrow.