The Wellington Files

  • Fire and Rain

    I received this in my Hunter College email. I am reprinting it verbatim.

    Hi,

    I hope you’re doing well.

    My husband and I are currently looking for a friendly and experienced Math tutor for our 14-year-old daughter, Moira, as she prepares to enter 10th grade. While her primary focus is on physics, we are particularly interested in helping her strengthen her understanding of the language used in the subject and build greater confidence in her studies.

    We would like to arrange two sessions per week over the next seven weeks, with some flexibility in scheduling. If you are available, we would appreciate it if you could share your hourly rate, availability, and the total cost for this period.

    Please feel free to contact us at rdxxxx@gmail. com

    Thank you for your time. We look forward to hearing from you.

    Best regards.

    I replied:

    My dear Madam. I do not satisfy your requirements. I am not friendly.

    Prof. A. Liveson

    In the puzzle yesterday, one clue/answer provoked a firestorm. It was at 26D and the clue was “Media misinformation.” Answer: FAKENEWS. The grid also included Sarah Palin and Rambo (Stallone). Here’s Rex:

    “F*** that guy and his stupid f***ing catchphrases and the whole right-wing project to discredit journalists and destroy journalism as a resource in this country. F*** him and SARAH Palin and Sylvester f***ing Stallone and his RAMBO bullshit. There is no neutral way to clue FAKE NEWS. That is a phrase popularized by one dude—one singularly amoral and incompetent dude—and then amplified by the worst bunch of sycophants this country has ever seen. As for Palin: there are many many SARAHs out there, and so few of them are national embarrassments, why not use one of those? I was gonna let that clue slide, though, until I hit FAKE NEWS, which I will never let slide. And then at the end of the puzzle, to run across one of the most famous megafans of the current White House resident—and in his stupid fake-he-man RAMBO costume no less—too much. I normally wouldn’t have given RAMBO a second thought, but today? After the intentional rightwing boosterism? No. All too much. Hard no. I don’t solve the puzzle in a vacuum. I solve it as an American citizen alive and kicking in 2026, so yeah, smearing that guy and his lackeys all over the puzzle does in fact make a difference as to how I feel about the puzzle. Overreacting? Too sensitive?  Great. I’m fine with those accusations. Someone should be sensitive.”

    Aside from the obvious laudable Trump-bashing, his line “I don’t solve the puzzle in a vacuum” is what Rex is all about. It’s his genius. The puzzle is not just a series of clues/answers. It’s content like a novel has content in its different way. Puzzles resonate. The best are remarkable and glow with brilliance. The wordplay is acrobatics. And the worst. . . well, they can inspire the above rant. The Commentariat loved it, of course.

    I always thought Sarah was cute tho.

    The words I worked with were: MCRIB (“Intermittently offered fast-food pork sandwich”); LICE (“Pet pests”); RASH (“Sudden or impulsive, as a decision”); RAMBO (“Title role for Sylvester Stallone”); and ADHERE (“Obey, with ‘to’”).

    Here’s what I got:

    I’m going to need some guidance on where to place the commercial. ADHERE

    Where a baby wolverine sleeps: MCRIB. (Go Blue!)

    When it was discovered the team’s shortstop had LICE he was scratched from the lineup. He was ticked off and thought the manager made a RASH decision.

    John Derek felt awful after losing control of the steering wheel. The last thing he wanted to do was RAMBO’s car.

    [OC Note: Bo hooked up with her director John Derek who was 46 when she was 16. The pair moved to Germany to evade California’s statutory rape laws. They returned to the US soon after Bo’s 18th birthday and married in 1976. They remained married until Derek’s death from heart failure in 1998. Bo is 69 today and has remarried.]

    When Trump started this ballroom nonsense he assured the public that the East Wing of the White House would not be touched. Within days it was demolished. He said the ballroom would be fully funded by private donations. He is now asking for $1 billion dollars in taxpayer money for it. If this surprises you even slightly, you need help.

    Need a lift? Who doesn’t? Here’s a munchkin update: Grandniece Maeven Beatrice.

    This is the first sentence of a poem that did not make it past the Owl Chatter guard puppies:

    I sing this body ad libitum, Europe scraped raw between my teeth until, presto, “Ave Maria” floats to the surface from a Tituba tributary of “Swanee.”

    This poem by Ted Kooser is the preface poem from Winter Morning Walks.

    The quarry road tumbles toward me
    out of the early morning darkness,
    lustrous with frost, an unrolled bolt
    of softly glowing fabric, interwoven
    with tiny glass beads on silver thread,
    the cloth spilled out and then lovingly
    smoothed by my father’s hand
    as he stands behind his wooden counter
    (dark at these fields) at Tilden’s Store
    so many years ago. “Here,” he says smiling,
    “you can make something special with this.”

    Today’s puzzle’s theme was revealed by the central crossing entry: CROSSPOLLINATED. In four spots two flowers cross each other. And as the kicker, the four letters at which the flowers intersect spell BEES.

    There was a guest blogger for Rex today, a wonderful young woman constructor Malaika. Here’s a chunk of her write up.

    “I finished this with a smile on my face because it’s warm today and I love flowers and I got to drink a margarita in the sun for Cinco de Mayo and this puzzle felt like spring spring spring spring spring and I have a tattoo of beautiful roses on my leg that I finally get to release from its Jeans Prison. What did you guys think? What’s your favorite flower? Any flower tattoos from any of you guys?”

    I posted this comment:

    “I don’t have a favorite flower, M, but my dad loved roses. He named his only daughter, my sister, Bonnie Rose, and a fond memory of mine is him watering the rose bushes he planted in our yard in Brooklyn. He passed away when I was only 14, over 60 years ago.

    “And thanks for the great shot of your tattoo!!”

    One of the flowers in the puzzle was a BLUEBELL. Son Volt shared this Alison Moyet song in that connection:

    Here’s Alison:

    A man is walking through the woods and comes across an open suitcase with three baby foxes in it. He uses his cellphone to call Animal Rescue and tells them about the baby foxes. They ask him “Are they moving?” And he says, “Well, that would explain the suitcase.”

    You hear about James Taylor’s face off with Karoline Leavitt? I read about it on Facebook.

    Leavitt had just finished a fiery rant about “folk-singing relics lecturing a modern America they don’t understand.” Hostess Mika Brzezinski said: “Mr. Taylor, Karoline says your activism is ‘outdated, irrelevant, and a remnant of a bygone era.’ She says you’re out of touch with today’s voters. Care to respond?”

    He reached into the pocket of his corduroy blazer and pulled out a folded piece of stationery.

    “Let’s review the arrangement here, dear,” Taylor said softly.

    “Karoline Leavitt. Born 1997. Former White House assistant—lasted eight months. Lost two congressional races—both by double digits. Hosts a podcast that struggles to find an audience larger than the crew I hire for a small theater run in the Berkshires. Claims to fight for ‘freedom,’ yet seems quite unsettled by anyone with a different song to sing. And her latest achievement? Calling a man who has spent over 50 years advocating for the environment, for peace, and for the common man ‘irrelevant’ while she’s simply chasing a viral moment.”

    “My dear, I was standing up for justice and singing for the soul of this country before your parents were out of grade school,” Taylor said, his eyes locked.

    “I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. I’ve been through the harshest critics and the loudest storms, and I’m still standing here with a guitar in my hand and a message in my heart. You’re playing a very loud game, but you’re missing the melody. You don’t rattle me. Sit down.”

    Moral of the story: Be careful whom you diss. Some of us old-timers haven’t quite finished up yet, and we’ve been around.

    See you tomorrow, Chatterheads. Thanks for dropping by.

  • Go raibh biseach ort gan mhoill!

    We’ve been away for a bit — for some big doings, by our standards. First, the Gnats game at Shea on Thursday was terrific! We pulled ahead 3-0 early thanks to a three-base error when the Mets pitcher overthrew a bunt to first base, and two clutch two-out singles. But Miles Mikolas has been shaky so it was no surprise when new Met Melendez tied the game up with a three-run dinger. Gloom settled in when the Metsies pulled ahead by a run and the Gnats limped their way through the seventh. But the Met pen has been anything but reliable, and, sure enough, we pounced on Weaver in the 8th. With the leadoff runner on, Daylen Lile bounced a grounder to second – Oh, no! But he ran his little tuchas off and avoided the DP — a crucial point, since CJ followed with a dinger. Had Lile not made his all-out effort the homer would have just tied it up. Instead we had a slim lead, and six nail-biting outs later, the win! Bravo boys! I was proud to be sporting my curly W on the way home.

    We got up early on Friday and shot down to Philly where Sam, Sarah, and the boys were ensconced in an airbnb near Logan Circle. An old college chum of Sam’s was getting married and we were tapped for the babysitting. It was a perfect day! Cheesesteaks from a local spot for lunch with a cold beer. Yum! Then a great walk along Philly’s impossible-to-spell river to a neat playground. Would it have killed them to name it the Philadelphia River? And I negotiated a treacherous parking terrain brilliantly to avoid even a nickel in fees until 6:30 freed up the zone. (Pat on back.) The boys were adorable and took it easy on us: both in bed by 8! I can’t post their pix because mom and dad want to keep them off the internet.

    Saturday morn we got up early and shot back up to Jersey where we were hosting Caity’s 40th birthday party. This was a high-stress affair because hubby Danny invited his family, which is 25 people including little ones. Yikes! Our house was chosen because of our big back yard — the kids can run around there. And it went amazingly well: the weather was better than predicted. The kids had a blast, the food was great (from Nonna’s in Florham Park), and the cake was incredible and enormous. Appy Bippy, Beaner!

    Here’s Caitlin with Danny and four of her five.

    But enough about me. This paragraph by Nick Kristoff on you-know-whom and Iran stuck out for me:

    “We’ve already won,” he said on March 7. Two days later, he asserted that the war would be over “very soon.” On March 11, he announced, “We’ve won.” On March 20, he said the US was considering “winding down.” Six days later, he said Iran was “begging to make a deal.” By April 16, the war “should be ending pretty soon.” The next day, he added that peace talks were going so well that “most of the points are already negotiated and agreed to.” And so on and so on. What does this mean? “The Americans clearly have no strategy,” Chancellor Merz of Germany said. “An entire nation is being humiliated.” [And it ain’t Iran.]

    Ironically, Trump’s lie that under Biden and Obama the whole world was laughing at us has become true.

    Couple Trump’s brilliant shoot-yourself-in-the-foot war with what the corrupt Supremes are doing to voting rights et al, and the insane gerrymandering and it’s finally boiled over for me. I’ve always dismissed it as empty prattle when folks talk about moving out of the country. Not anymore. We’ve taken it for granted in the past that we lived in a democracy, but Trump’s damage has made it unrecognizable. Even after the midterms and 2028, if all goes well, kinehora, there is enough malignancy in the system now to forestall recovery. For the first time in my life, I have to say if I were a young man just starting out and it were at all practical to relocate, I’d leave.

    Let’s get back to Crossworld ASAP. I “worked” with few words today:

    “German actress Berger with a career spanning eight decades.” Answer: SENTA. “Catch in a sting:” ENTRAP. “Adds with a spoon, say:” STIRSIN. And “French financial institution:” BANQUE.

    Here’s what I came up with:

    I get the same tired speech from my otolaryngologist about my bad habits every time I see him. Frankly, I’m tired of the ENTRAP.
    The actress Berger’s assistants: SENTA’s little helpers.
    Failing to fold the egg whites into the batter carefully is a STIRSIN.
    The curious Spanish tot asked so many questions, his mom had no choice but to BANQUE.

    Alright, a little weak, but what can you do? Even [insert name] has off-days.

    Sadly, yesterday wasn’t much better. I worked with “How an annoying conversation might go:” ONANDON; “Little girl, in Italian:” BAMBINA; and “Hand grenades, informally:” FRAGS.

    My post:

    Organization for folks who can’t stop talking: ON AND ON Anon

    Wasn’t FRAGS one of the ten plagues? The Seders get fuzzy for me with those four cups of wine.

    Wanna see the classic Disney film about that fawn whose mom gets killed?

    BAMBI? NA. (Oops. Spoiler alert!)

    Also noted: Nice combos: SWALLOW crossing WORDS, and MOONSHOTS atop AU NATUREL

    Here’s the young SENTA. Hubba, hubba.

    This story from today’s Met Diary is by Mare Berger. Gotta love Brooklyn on those days.

    Dear Diary:

    It was April Fools’ Day, and the weather kept changing from sunny to drizzle, as if the gusty wind was moving the sun back and forth behind a cloud.

    I put my jacket on and off as I walked along Prospect Park. The trees were still bare, but spring was slowly awakening with yellow forsythias, and every child walking by stared at my new purple hair, hungry for color.

    A guy in the bike lane yelled, “Hey!”

    I turned to him.

    “Sorry,” he said, pointing to someone else. “I’m talking to this guy.”

    “But you actually look familiar,” I said.

    “So do you,” he said, laughing.

    I entered the park to hear pop music near the band shell. Two people with a portable speaker were dancing.

    I wanted to join the party, but I realized that I hear the music, so I’m in the party. I danced along from a distance.

    From high above, hundreds of blackbirds swooped down like falling peppercorn into the black-and-white woods ahead. As I got closer, I saw specks of tiny green buds emerging on each tree limb.

    I left the park, passing three people who had converged because their dogs could not contain their joy. The people laughed like old friends, but within seconds they had walked off separate ways.

    As I passed Seeley Street, I overheard a friend through the open window, cheering on a drum student.

    I laughed. I should be getting home before the possible rain, I thought, but today, everywhere was home.

    There’s a wonderful warmth and strong sense of community in the Commentariat on Rex Parker’s blog. There is no more beloved figure than Lewis, who finds good in every puzzle, no matter how scathing Rex’s curmudgeonly review is. So I want to share with you some mildly scary news Lewis shared yesterday, and the outpouring of support (including from me, Liveprof) it engendered:

    Lewis

    Administrative note: I shall be away one-to-two weeks – ish – as I will be undergoing some big-time surgery (spine). I believe I’ll be able to scooch in my Favorite Clues list during this period. I‘ll miss you, gang, and I wish all at least one happy surprise in the interim!

    7:28 AM

    Carola

    @Lewis, wishing you all the best!

    7:29 AM

    Anonymous

    Best to you, Lewis. Wishing you a successful surgery and speedy recovery. Your reliably intelligent and supportive posts will be missed and I will look forward to your return.

    7:40 AM

    Rick Sacra

    Wishing you a good result and no complications, and praying for your Doctors to “put you back the way you were made”…. : )

    7:58 AM

    SouthsideJohnny

    Best of luck with the surgery. I hope all goes well and wish you the best with your recovery / rehabilitation (hopefully you will be equipped with an IPad and the NYT Games app!).

    8:05 AM

    RooMonster

    Good luck and wishes your way, @Lewis. I had back surgery when I was 29, didn’t want to wait til I got older. Good decision on my part.
    Hope all goes well.

    Roo

    8:06 AM

    egsforbreakfast

    Good luck on the surgery. We’ll all be missing you.

    8:45 AM

    pabloinnh

    Good luck with the surgery. My wife is looking at her third back operation in about a week, the other two were a long time ago and what used to be a week in the hospital is now -same day surgery. Imagine that.

    8:48 AM

    burtonkd

    Best wishes for a successful procedure and speedy recovery!

    9:15 AM

    Mothra

    Hope your surgery goes well!

    9:16 AM

    puzzlehoarder

    @Lewis, sorry to hear about your health issue and good luck with your surgery.

    9:23 AM

    Hugh

    Wishing you a VERY speedy recovery @Lewis. You will surely be missed!

    9:46 AM

    Son Volt

    Love and prayers Lewis – good luck!

    9:55 AM

    DAVinHOP

    Joining those wishing you the best and a speedy recovery, Lewis!

    9:56 AM

    LAC

    Best of luck with the surgery, Lewis! I always look to your positive and insightful takes on the day’s puzzle, and hope you’re back at it soon.

    10:08 AM

    EasyEd

    Hope your surgery goes well. You will be misssed.

    10:08 AM

    Beezer

    Wishing you a speedy recovery and that you will be doing your ASANAS soon!

    10:08 AM

    jb129

    Thinking of you, Lewis & wishing you well 🙂

    10:31 AM

    Anonymous

    You’re on the prayer list

    10:33 AM

    Yat

    Best wishes and looking forward to your return!

    10:48 AM

    Anonymous

    As a fellow spine surgery survivor, I say Godspeed and hurry back!

    10:49 AM

    Anonymous

    Only sunny Lewis could put on such a brave face for back surgery. Your positivity will undoubtedly help you heal! We’ll all be pulling for you. Take good care,
    Susan in Maine

    10:53 AM

    Gary Jugert

    @Lewis 7:27 AM
    Cheers my man. I’m rooting for a speedy recovery. We need you back ASAP.

    11:40 AM

    Dennis

    Sending good vibes your way for the upcoming operation and then a speedy recovery, Lewis!

    11:42 AM

    A

    Aha! I almost asked you if something was amiss when you didn’t point out Wednesday’s palindrome or Thursday’s semordnilap (both 5 letters!). 😉

    Seriously, though, I’m so sorry you have to go through that. Best wishes for a successful surgery and a complete recovery. Hurry back!

    Mimi L

    12:02 PM

    Anonymous

    @Lewis, Go raibh biseach ort gan mhoill! 💚☘️

    [Gaelic for feel better soon: I looked it up.]

    12:15 PM

    jae

    Wishing you the best!

    12:15 PM

    Liveprof

    We love you, buddy. You’ll be fine — these surgeons are incredible. Just stay away from spine-tingling movies for a bit. Hurry back.

    12:27 PM

    David Eisner

    Good luck with your surgery, Lewis!

    1:49 PM

    Anonymous

    Good luck with surgery Lewis, we’ll miss your insight and perspective in the meantime!

    2:04 PM

    Anonymous

    Best wishes, LEWIS!

    4:17 PM

    Diane Joan

    @Lewis
    Lewis,
    I will miss your sunny reviews. I hope your surgery goes well. Good luck with your recovery.
    Diane Joan

    4:19 PM

    Juanita

    Best wishes, Lewis, for a successful surgery and a speedy recovery.

    4:19 PM

    Masked and Anonymous

    All the best wishes, Mr. @Lewis dude. Come back all better — with a much better back.
    M&A

    4:41 PM

    dgd

    As usual late Wishing Lewis good luck & a speedy recovery v

    6:19 PM

    CDilly52

    Oh Lewis, I am so sorry to hear your news and wish you a successful and speedy recovery. We will miss your daily positivity and insight.

    7:07 PM

    Terra Schaller

    ❤ May God watch over you and help you heal fast

    2:26 AM

    Yesterday, “‘Full House’ father” was DANNY. Let’s close with this rocker. See you tomorrow!

    Thanks for popping in!

  • Uncle Charlie

    I picked up some pastrami yesterday. Not the real stuff from a good Jewish deli; Black Bear pastrami from Shoprite, which was on sale (vu den?). And when I mentioned to Linda that we could have some for lunch, I was reminded that it was my brother Jay’s favorite, alav hashalom. At one point, in his fifties, a cyst on his jaw was found to be cancerous. It was removed and he never had problems with cancer again, thank goodness. And I recall that when he first got the bad news that it was malignant and would require surgery, his response was to have some pastrami. Yup. That’s my family. I had just read an article on the health benefits of carrot juice. It was written by a rabbit. So I suggested he have carrot juice because I was worried about him. Pastrami . . . carrot juice . . . pastrami . . . carrot juice. Puh-leeze!

    Here’s what you’d get when you ordered a pastrami on rye at the Carnegie Deli, on Seventh Avenue in NYC. OMG, I’m sorry Ana and Taylor, but this photo is almost as beautiful as you two. Whose got the pickles?

    Two answers in today’s NYTXW were SPARGE and CABERS. Srsly? On a Wednesday? It’s okay though: the crosses were fair. Their clues, respectively, were: “Rinse with water, as grain in the brewing process,” and “Poles tossed in a Highland competition.” Okay, if you say so, Joseph Gangi.

    I think there was a Broadway musical about a CABER-tossing competition years ago: Caberet. For a little guy, that Joel Grey could really heave ’em.

    And there’s this: Understanding proper sparging techniques is essential for both home brewers and commercial operations to achieve consistent beer quality and optimal yields. This critical step allows brewers to maximize sugar extraction efficiency, typically recovering 75-85% of available sugars from malted grains.

    Another clue/answer was a gift to our Dirty Old Man dept: “Shoe with a ‘kitten’ variety,” STILETTO, of course. But Commenter Katie took issue with it: “I’m sorry. There is no such thing as a stiletto kitten heel. Look at pictures of it on the internet, by which I mean search for them and see for yourself that there is nothing stiletto-ish about any of the photos–they’re all just kitten heels!” Beezer and Anony Mouse agreed but it was noted that Wikipedia states the kitten heel is a type of stiletto.

    Cameron Diaz was rumored to be engaged to Jared Leto way back when. Has she moved on from him, or is it STILLETO? (Moved on, long ago. Married musician Benji Madden in 2015 and they have two kids. It was a Jewish wedding! Mazel tov, CD!).

    Nice shot, Phil. Very helpful.

    Oh, and hi Joel! Happy 94th a few weeks ago!

    At 54A, “Rose up” was REBELLED. Thanks to Son Volt for this haunting song about the Lumineers lead singer Wesley Schultz’s uncle Charlie, first-born of four sons, who perished in Viet Nam. He was moved to enlist after asking himself what he could do for his country, per JFK.

    SV followed up on the theme with this rouser. The Fields of Athenry.

    By a lonely prison wall
    I heard a young man calling
    Nothing matters, Mary, when you’re free
    Against the famine and the crown
    I rebelled; they cut me down
    Now you must raise our child with dignity

    Turn it up!

    Back when journalist E. Jean Carroll sued Trump for sexual assault, you had to love his defense: “She’s not my type.” Like, I’m not saying I wouldn’t rape someone — just not her. Of course, the jury didn’t buy it and awarded her several jillion dollars in damages. The case is back in the news because the Second Circuit decided not to hear Trump’s appeal. Lunatic leftist judges, no doubt. Here’s EJC, young — is she your type?

    If you like Randy Rainbow, this is a good one. Just gotta get past the ad for his one sponsor. If you don’t, well, . . . See ya tomorrow! Or maybe not — we’re heading out to Shea to see the Gnats take on the Mets!

    Thanks for dropping in!

  • Friends Will Arrive, Friends Will Disappear

    Ever take a walk around your neighborhood and, yikes, gotta go! May not make it home in time! I usually just look around to make sure no one is near and use someone’s front lawn. Anyway, today my plans were upended, so to speak, when I came across this sign. The jig is up!

    Jamie FARR was in the puzzle yesterday. Who didn’t love Klinger in his day? He probably made cross-dressing a little less difficult for some folks. His clue was “Jamie with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.” A bit of a hooha arose as to whether JF deserved his star. Commenter tht wrote: “I can’t think of a thing FARR has done besides his stint as Corporal Klinger. He got on the Walk of Fame for that?!” Walk Away Renee responded: IMHO, when supporting actors create and sustain truly iconic characters in truly classic television, as Jamie Farr did, their work here is done, and they’ve earned their lasting plaudits and audience’s affection. Don’t have to top themselves, or fall prey to that “yeah, yeah, but what have you done lately?” Hollywood hustle.

    I added that the discussion reminded me of how Joseph Heller used to be charged with never writing anything as great as Catch 22 again. His response was always “Who has?”

    At 49D, for the clue “Come home soon” the answer was MISSYOU. Awww. Son Volt shared this pretty Kacey Musgraves tune: We got free tix to see KM a while ago at the Prudential Center in Newark and liked her very much. Phil says she’s one of those stars whose charm is hard to pin down in a photo.

    I noticed a whole bunch of “letter-words” in today’s puzzle: HUE (like for a color); SEAS (like oceans); OWE (debts); ARE, and ESS. So I thought it was pretty clever of me to post: “Have you noticed this “occurs” in the puzzle: OWE, SEAS, HUE, ARE, ESS?”

    My other wordplay was on: HOPI (“Tribe of Arizona”), MEEK (“Gentle and submissive”), EKE (“Barely get (by)”), PASTA (“Many an Olive Garden entree”), and ALOUD (“How a picture book may be read at bedtime”).

    Where to find B thru Z: PASTA

    Candy for the faint of heart: MEEK and EKE

    May I read this to you? Yes, it’s ALOUD

    Popular tribal pancake spot: HOPI

    Son Volt shared this great song based on MEEK in the lyrics. Haven’t heard it in years, decades maybe.

    I been meek
    And hard like an oak
    I’ve seen pretty people disappear like smoke
    Friends will arrive, friends will disappear
    If you want me
    Honey, baby, I’ll be here

    Yesterday, SV brought us this Tom Waits song for “maverick” in the lyric.

    LEON Spinks was in the puzzle too. Remember when he came out of nowhere and beat Muhammad Ali? Holy shit. Not sure why Rex connected it to this Peanuts cartoon, which is either a classic, or oughta be.

    My Fremch teacher in high school, Oscar Rosenthal, alav hashalom, was very funny. For one thing, whenever you asked him how to spell anything, his response was always A, W, Zayen, Shin, the latter two being Hebrew letters. When you asked him a question he didn’t know the answer to, or didn’t want to answer, he would say: “I’ll ask him when he comes in.” We never found out who him was and he certainly never came in. He showed us slides of his trip to France and whenever his wife was in one, he’d refer to her as a model. One time a student was writing some sentences on the board and, as often happened with students, his writing slanted upward pretty strongly. After watching from the back of the room for a few moments, Rosenthal said: “Andy, it might help if you put a book under your left foot.”

    Anyway, he told us that when he was a student, he worked hard to come up with one good essay. It was about his grandmother. And no matter what the assignment was, he would use it. Say, the assignment was to write an essay on Winter. He’d start “Winters can be rough around here. My grandmother never liked winter. She was born in . . . ” and he’d finish off with the rest of his grandmother essay. Trump’s ballroom, it seems to me, is like Mr. Rosenthal’s grandmother. No matter the topic, you get ballroom. Ask about the war, he talks about the ballroom. Crank up an assassination attempt and it proves how much we need the ballroom. Oy. Are we ever going to be rid of this idiot? I’ll ask him when he comes in.

    John Harbaugh is one of the great NFL coaches and he was fired this year. And Alex Cora is one of the great MLB managers and he was just fired. So, no matter how shitty a job you’re doing at work, if you ain’t been fired yet, give yourself a pat on the back. You must be doing something right.

    See you tomorrow. Thanks for popping in.

  • Keys Beat Rocks

    In a move considered long overdue, NFL officials announced today that all players selected by the NY Jets in this year’s draft will be placed on suicide watch indefinitely. Jets head coach Aaron Glenn applauded the move. “We need to get them safely into camp. It’s the least we can do for the grief-stricken families.”

    We take these baseball trips because we love baseball: the game itself, the infield balletics, the long arcing home runs, and the feel of the stadium, be it minor or major league, something you just can’t duplicate anywhere else. Even if you are rooting for a team, the result almost doesn’t matter, as long as the game is reasonably well-played. And so it was fine when the team we were pulling for Wednesday night in Frederick MD, the Wilmington (DE) Blue Rocks, lost a squeaker 18-2. It was actually close until the seventh, when the wheels came off the Rocks’ bus as the Keys put up a nine-spot. Both starters looked good. And Vic Figueroa, 22, at 6′ 5″, 240, looked scary good at the plate and crushed two dingers for the Keys. BTW, this cemetery across the road from the stadium is where Francis Scott Key is buried. Hence the team name.

    Speaking of Franny, if you’ve been to an Orioles game (or Ravens) you will be surprised (the first time) when you hear the fans “erupt” during the national anthem. At the second “O Say” they scream “Oh!” You know, for the Orioles. Since the Keys are close to Baltimore and are an affiliate of the Orioles, the Keys fans honor the tradition as well. In that regard, I was curious how the anthem would be handled at the last O’s game we attended earlier this month. The anthem was not sung — it was played on the trumpet, and it was beautiful. The trumpeter even gave it a little jazz flourish at the end, with a big smile. But since it wasn’t sung, you know, with words, I wondered what the fans would do about the “Oh!” I shouldn’t have worried: they erupted where the second “O Say” would have been. Of course.

    Here’s the Key man, and his stamp.

    OMG, the weather for the Gnats day game Thursday was from Heaven: clear and high seventies. I checked the Nats Park website and learned we could bring our own lunch, so we stopped at the Potbelly Sandwich Shop (a chain) in Germantown MD on the way to the game. We shared a “Wreck” and a “Mediterranean,” both good, esp the former, and ate while watching the crack grounds crew ready the field. The Gnats offer a pre-game Happy Hour that runs from when the gates open until the first pitch, that includes $5 beers, so I had a cold Bud Light to round out a perfect ballpark lunch.

    That beer was just a tad less cold than the Gnats’ bats, unfortunately. We were outmatched by the Braves who pulled ahead after our starter Cade Cavalli departed in the sixth. Final score: 7-2. We were treated to resounding homers by James Wood and CJ Abrams for our two runs. The bullpen just couldn’t keep that potent lineup of the Atlantans from bursting out. Even their “non-stars” are dangerous. They are clearly “back” after a very unusual off-year. Can they challenge the Dodgers? Watch this space.

    Slugging second-baseman Ozzie Albies has a very pretty wife. You can see why he runs home so often.

    At breakfast at the Best Western yesterday, we got treated to the press briefing on the war by our idiot Defense Sec’y and some military dude. After the former embarrassed himself blowing his usual crap out of his ass, the latter updated us on the ships we’ve been interdicting. We attacked one called “The Tiffany,” he said, after giving it clear and unambiguous warnings. It made me wonder what an ambiguous warning might be.

    “I’d turn around if I were you. Just sayin’. Hint, hint.”

    “Um. You guys all have your affairs in order?”

    “I’ve got that sinking feeling, if you catch my drift.”

    Yesterday’s puzzle picked me up off the floor and flung me against the wall. I was close to giving up after hacking my way, inch by inch, through all of it but the southeast corner. But I persevered and when I finally remembered that Travolta on “Welcome Back Kotter” was VINNIE and had him cross that KARENINA babe, I was in business and managed to limp to the finish. Rex, of course, rated it “easy, easy-medium.” Argggggh.

    It was marked by brilliant cluing. E.g. —

    “It has a light bulb.” Answer: DAFFODIL

    It’s clearly a reference to coloring, but a not-too-sharp Anony Mouse posted: Still trying to wrap my head around DAFFODIL as a light bulb. I get it’s a bulb flower, but not seeing a connection with light. Do they not weigh very much compared to other bulbs?

    I replied: Exactly. On average, the typical daffodil bulb weighs 0.85 oz less than most other bulbs. If you buy your bulbs by the pound, the savings add up.

    Other clever clues included: “Peace sign?” for DO NOT DISTURB; “Low volume?” for TEASPOON (get it?); “Tubes that go down” for RIGATONI; and “You just can’t take it” for THELASTSTRAW. I also thought “Accounted for” was a good clue for HERE. “Acrobat’s display” gave me (and others) a sh*tload of trouble. We all thought along the lines of agility, but it seemed to be starting with an impossible PD. Turned out not be that kind of acrobat, but Adobe Acrobat, and the answer was PDFFILES. Ouch. A Friday-level clue for sure.

    But my favorite clue was: “‘The best cheese of its type in the world,’ per George Orwell.” Answer: STILTON.

    It inspired Les S. More to comment:

    “I love blue cheese and I admire George Orwell but, Georgie pal, you’ve got this one wrong. #1, Roquefort, particularly Societe or Papillon. #2, Gorgonzola Picante. In the number 3 slot, Saint Agur, an upstart (1980s?) French creation that is creamy and piquant and then Stilton, which is drier and a bit stodgier (very English) at #4. Your mileage may vary.

    “People will come to my place for lunch and I will put out a charcuterie board with various cheeses and someone will invariably ask “what is this lovely stuff?” And I will answer that I know a cheesemaker about an hour away, on the other side of the river, who studied in France and learned to make Chaourse, among other delightful cheeses. She can’t call her cheese Chaourse because of various naming laws, but it’s Chaourse. Brie on steroids. Then I bring out my cheese books – yes I have cheese books – and bore the hell out of everybody at the table.”

    In the 2012 film, the sultry Keira Knightly played Anna Karenina. When asked “Why the hurry?,” she explained she was Russian.

    We enjoyed an interesting film at the historic Charles Theater in B’more yesterday: “The Christophers.” It’s about unfinished paintings of a dying artist and a restorer-forger who might work on them at the behest of his scheming children. Ian McKellen fills the screen, and Michaela Coel more than holds her own. We liked it, although were far too stupid to appreciate all of the artistic points and the English accents cost us some comprehension.

    Here’s Coel.

    A shocker: We had to blow off the Orioles game last night! Ended up watching much of it from the Best Western! How can this be?? As we were enjoying our incredible pizza at Angeli’s in Little Italy (having found a great parking spot for the game), a thunderstorm blew through the area leaving a temperature drop in its wake. To our shame, we were unprepared. We could not sit through the game with temps hitting the low 60’s in tee shirts. It’s okay, it was still a great trip with three fun games and terrific food and walks. I relisted the tix on Stub Hub in time and they sold — pretty neat. The O’s ended up pounding the crap out of Boston, 10-3. Five taters off of the poor Boston pitcher Bello, pronounced Bay-O. Back in the dugout we could see him fling his glove in disgust upsetting a large container of bubble gum, sending the little individually wrapped pieces flying all over the f*cking place. Try not to step on any in your bare feet tonight.

    In the puzzle today, at 31A the clue was “Air traveler’s connection,” and the answer was INFLIGHTWIFI. Here’s what I posted for the gang:

    Before I got the last letter of INFLIGHTWIFI, I thought “Has first class gone that far? — they provide an inflight wife now? How far do those seats recline?”

    Phil and George checked with the airlines for us and came up with this young lady as an inflight wife on Delta. United did not get back to us.

    A little tired from the drive home, but we made it!! See you tomorrow!

  • Frederick Ho!

    We are safely ensconced in our temporary headquarters in Frederick MD, kinehora, after a very nice time in York PA. (Without the kinehora, a giant foot would come out of the sky and squash us, as has been proven time and time again.)

    The Revs (York Revolution) put on a good show for us last night at Wellspan Stadium, but fell to the Lancaster Stormers 8-4. The dropping temperature got to us a bit so we left in the 7th after the Revs came back from 4-0 to tie it, only to fall behind again 5-4. We later learned the wheels came off the bus in the ninth. Rematch tonight, but we’ll be at the Frederick Keys game.

    As luck would have it (good luck, for once), we received an email just this morning from mlb.com offering a special $10 ticket deal for select minor league teams and the Keys were included!. How great is that! Saved us $5 each, which I will quickly blow on our visit to a local beer emporium this fine morning.

    Our dinner in York last night was over the top spectacular. It was half-price burger night at the Holy Hound taproom and the place was on top of its game: they were out of this world. Linda’s featured fried gouda, mine a generous portion of avicado. For my pint, after sampling tap #9 and tap #21, I went with the latter: a Pennsylvania blonde: perfect. Total bill: around $23.50. Even tipping based on what full price would have been (as I did since I’m a mensch), it was an incredible bargain. I staggered out drunk and we blundered our way over to the ballpark. (Burp!)

    I loved today’s puzzle — it was environmentally responsible: appropriate for Earth Day. The word CAN appeared as an answer four times, clued four different ways: it was recycled! And three long answers had shorter synonyms circled within them (e.g., ENCOURAGED, had URGED circled): it was reduced. And four words used the same letters from the first half of the word in the second half: e.g., REAPPEAR (the R,E,A, and P are used front and back), for reuse. And the revealer was: REDUCE, REUSE, and RECYCLE. Pretty clever wordplay IMO. (Curmudgeon Rex was unimpressed, as often occurs.)

    I worked with HEROD (“Villain in the Bible’s Christmas story”); GAELIC (“Like some Scots”); AVERSE (“Opposed (to)”); and GLAZE (“Material for a ceramicist”) to post the following nonsense:

    On her way out of HEROD’s office wearing her new bifocals, she fell down three flights of stairs. [OC note: an OD is an eye doc.]

    I have to be careful not to read too much traditional Irish and Scottish literature, because GAELIC upsets my digestive system.

    My poet friend asked me to read AVERSE of his. I didn’t know how to tell him his skills had slipped from bad to verse.

    On our way to visit my beautiful daughter and exquisite grandchildren, we pass by the Morris County (NJ) School of Glass. (Several students were recently expelled for throwing stones.) The minute I saw it, I knew I had to tell my punster friend Carl. So I emailed him telling him I took a class in pane management but the professor was pretty bad — I could see right through him. Within seconds he wrote back asking if they serve GLAZED donuts.

    First, let’s take a look at this “poem-a-day” from poets.org by Jake Young. It’s called “Working at the Distillery.”

    Last summer, I rose 
    before dawn, crept 
    through the house still 
    pregnant with sleep, 
    pulled on tattered jeans,  
    a stained sweatshirt, 
    a baseball cap  
    ragged with wear, 
    grabbed my coffee and lunch 
    from the fridge, and drove 
    south to Watsonville 
    to unload grapes 
    in the early morning light. 
    All day, I shoveled them 
    into the destemmer, 
    then into the juicer, 
    the golden liquid 
    sweeter than ambrosia. 
    I filled tanks to ferment, 
    piled the empty stems 
    picked clean onto 
    the compost heap, 
    refilled the tank on the fork- 
    lift, hid the keys, 
    and followed the sun 
    that had already set, 
    chasing the low glow 
    at the horizon  
    as the stars came out, 
    constellations 
    I could hardly raise 
    my eyes to see.

    Next, here’s what Jake said about it:

    “In my twenties, I worked in the Santa Cruz Mountains for a winemaker and fell in love with that world. My last summer in California, before moving to Missouri, I worked the crush for a distiller and helped turn that year’s harvest into wine, and eventually brandy. I found the alchemical transformation itself intoxicating—tasting the fresh juice pressed from the grapes, smelling it ferment in the cellar. What I remember most, though, is the satisfaction of working fourteen- or sixteen-hour days throughout the harvest, and the gratifying weight of exhaustion each night.”

    Finally, here’s Jake:

    Please don’t infer anything bad from our failure to mention Owl Chatter faves Taylor or Ana for a while. They both, of course, continue to appear regularly in the puzzle, Taylor this week for a song title of hers that contained the word HIM. Bit of a stretch. Armas also appeared with a bunch of other stars, e.g., Bradley Cooper, at the opening of Louis Vuitton’s new store on 57th Street in NYC. Looking spiffy as always, Babe!

    So the NYT reports that Tucker Carlson is having buyer’s remorse over his prior support for Trump, because of the Prez’s dishonest and illegal blundering into the Iran war. He’s “tormented.” Apparently, none of the mountain of other stuff bothered him. Trump, of course, flipped his switch easily enough from praise to disparagement: “Tucker is a low IQ person — always easy to beat, and highly overrated.” Yeah, overrated by you, yesterday.

    Back on Planet Earth, we had the neatest walk around Frederick today, from the cool coffee place, Gravel and Grind, all the way down Market Street to, and then along, Carroll Creek. Lots of cute shops and restaurants, but none grabbed us enough to dissuade us from our plans of having ballpark fare for dinner. And OMG, the best beer store ever: Frederick Wine House. It’s enormous with a friendly staff, wide selection, and good prices. I loaded up on New Trail ales: very good stuff from Williamsport PA. (Burps to follow.)

    Had to scuttle our plans for dinner in DC tomorrow after the Gnats game because the Right Proper brewpub is relocating and hasn’t opened its new quarters yet. Boo. They have a very highly rated Happy Hour. May treat ourselves to Ethiopian food instead. Yum! Also looking to catch the Holy Hound again in York on the way home: the non-burger portion of their menu this time. And we’ve penciled in a movie at Baltimore’s historic Charles Street Theater before the night game on Friday: The Christophers. Report to follow. Love these trips!

    See you tomorrow!

  • The Gloom of a Spinned Myth

    Broadcasting may be spotty this week. We’re heading down to Frederick MD for an exciting baseball trip! First up, in York PA, the Revolution is (are?) playing the Lancaster Stormers in an Atlantic League game. It’s Opening Night! Tomorrow, the Frederick Keys play the Wilmington Blue Rocks. That’s the “Sally” League (South Atlantic). It’s “guaranteed win” night, so if the Keys lose we get free tix to a future game. Go Rocks!! Then we hit the majors with a day game on Thurs: Gnats vs Los Bravos (Atlanta), and we finish up Friday night with the Bosox at Camden Yards to face the Orioles. We’ll be based in the Best Western in Frederick, which is in reasonable reach of all of the stadia. I tried to get a room at the Third-Best Western, but Linda insisted we aim higher. Women.

    The weatherman says it will be a bit cool tonight but should be good the rest of the way. Play ball!

    We’re keeping it short today so we can hit the road, but here’s a very pretty song by HEM, which was an answer in the puzzle yesterday, boringly clued with “Skirt feature.” The sweet voice is Sally Ellyson’s.

    I shared some wordplay with Rex’s gang today and a joke about SEX, since that was a puzzle answer, given a very classy clue by constructor Victoria Fernandez Grande: “‘On the Basis of ___‘ (Ruth Bader Ginsburg biopic).”

    The wordplay involved ABSORB (“Soak up”), and ALIBIS (“They may crumble under cross-examination”).

    My personal trainer suggested I get an exercise ball to work on my core. So I picked up an ABSORB.

    Don’t ask Trump what ALIBIS unless you want an earful of F-bombs.

    Here’s a “three couples” joke about SEX.

    A church holds an open house night to get new members to join the congregation, and three couples show up and say they want to join. The first are in their fifties, married close to thirty years. The second in their thirties, married seven or eight. And the third was a pair of shiny bright newlyweds. The minister is delighted but explains that they need to pass a test in order to join. To prove the strength of their commitment, they have to agree to refrain from sex for 30 days. All three couples agree.

    A month goes by and they meet at the church. The minister asks the older couple how it went. The husband says, “To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult for us. There were a few nights we had to fight back desire, and my wife made sure to wear her least sexy pajamas, but overall, we passed the test without too much difficulty.” The minister says, “Don’t sell yourself short — you made an important commitment and you honored it. We’re delighted to have you join our congregation.”

    He turns to the couple in their thirties. The husband says: “It was pretty tough, especially the last few weeks. I slept on the couch a few nights to be safe. But I’m happy to report we made it!” The minister was thrilled. “Excellent! Welcome to our church!”

    Finally, he asks the newlyweds how they did. The husband says: “We so much wanted to join this church. We did everything we could to pass the test: I slept on the couch. I stayed at my brother’s place a few nights. My wife did everything she could to not be sexy. But with just three days to go, she reached up to get a can of paint off a shelf, and it was just so alluring I couldn’t stand it. So I grabbed her, and, well, we didn’t last for 30 days.” The minister says, “Well, I’m very sorry to hear that, but you know what the deal was. I’m afraid I can’t let you into our congregation.” And the husband says, “Yeah, they’re not letting us into Home Depot anymore either.”

    Let’s close with this poem by Thomas Centolella from poets.org.

    Cynthia Wanders My Neighborhood

    with the shock of hospice behind her  
    and her ashes scattered on her cherished Pacific.   
    She’s flipped the hourglass and stopped it at 29,   
    when her hair was still chestnut and waving  
    to her waist. And because it’s November and nighttime  
    she’s wearing one of those vintage wool coats,  
    wide lapels, no buttons or belt, a blue nearly gray  
    in the foggy noir light of the streetlamps.   
    It’s cold enough she has to hold it tight   
    against her body. Too cold for the emerald   
    silk teddy, or her long tanned legs in b-ball shorts,  
    ready for some serious one-on-one. I’m dying   
    to stop my steep climb home, turn around and ask her   
    if she’s really here, but Orpheus is in my ear,  
    warning me not to make that old mistake.  
    It’s about trust, I think. Keep moving  
    through the gloom of a spinned myth:  
    let those you’ve loved come back   
    when they’re ready, when you’re ready,   
    as if no one were lost to begin with.

    See you next time! Thanks for popping by.

  • Riomaggiore

    Baseball fans. Have you heard about this black eye on our sport? I recently watched the O’s beat up on the Rangers in Baltimore, but had no idea this was going on down in Texas. First, the photo:

    The cop is Texas Ranger Jay Banks apparently unruffled by anything that may be going on. Wait. What’s that hanging above the school’s door? In the words of the NYT, it’s “an effigy of a Black man hanging from a noose.” What the f*ck?” I can’t recall seeing one of those hanging over the door at the Yeshivah of Flatbush HS in Brooklyn when I went there.

    Filling in some blanks, the picture was taken outside Mansfield HS in 1956, amid a failed effort to desegregate. Banks led a detachment of Rangers who, at the governor’s direction, refused to allow the integration. Mansfield is near Dallas.

    In 1961, unrelatedly, a statue was being sculpted by artist Waldine Tauch to honor the Rangers generically and Banks served as the model for the symbolic Ranger. It stood at a Dallas airport for many years, but was removed in 2020 when its infamous past flared up. It stayed in storage until the baseball Rangers agreed to give it standing in the left field concourse last month.

    Much sh*t is hitting the proverbial fan. Some deny that Banks was the model, but Banks himself said he was. Banks’ daughter did as well in her book, featuring a photo of Banks next to the statue. Even the Texas Rangers museum says it’s Banks.

    One can argue whether the Rangers organization is more stupid than racist, or vicey versey. A strong case can be made for both. MLB has not taken a stand on the statue yet, so it is complicit, obviously. The statue has got to go. And the club should be hit with substantial penalties for “conduct detrimental” to the sport. In the time-honored tradition of sharing the hate, the Rangers are also the only team in MLB to not offer a Pride night for its gay community.

    In its annual tribute that rings hollow to our ears at the moment, MLB celebrated Jackie Robinson Day this week.

    Speaking of baseball, our Gnats are coming home from an incredible 5-2 road trip! We swept the Beermeisters and split with Pittsburgh — two good teams. Thursday’s win was a cardiologist’s delight. DC went up 4-0 but blew that lead as fast as they could. Then it went to 7-6 Gnats. Hanging on by a thread until they loaded the bases with no outs in the top of the ninth. Insurance runs by the handful, right? Nope, nope, nope. One grounder for a play at the plate, and another for a double play, so we limped into the last half inning with a very shaky lead.

    Clayton Beeter on the mound. I like CB, but in a flash, he put two on base and it was all he could do to keep the damage to one run, the tying run. In the tenth the Bucs inexplicably failed to walk Gnat slugger James Wood with a runner on second, two outs, and first base open. Wood laced a shot to right and we went up 8-7. But, you know, in extra innings these days each team gets to start with a runner on second. So in the bottom of the tenth when an infield hit made it first and third with no outs, the lead looked especially thin. Yikes! Orlando Ribalta was on the mound, having recently been called up. Gloom had settled over me ever since we failed in the ninth, but I perked up watching Ribalta — he looked great! Who is this guy? He struck out Bryan Reynolds swinging, a good hitter, and induced the next batter to ground into a 6-4-3 DP. Game over! Gnats win! Never in doubt! Here’s Ribalta.

    Back to earth last night with a 10-5 drubbing at the hands of the Giants.

    Your call: Are ICE’s actions motivated more by viciousness or stupidity? When they march a little old man out of his home in front of cameras in freezing Minnesota weather in his pajamas and slippers — good PR?

    There is no shortage of outrages like that. This week’s good one had them arresting an 85-year-old widow in her nightgown. Marie-Thérèse Ross-Mahé met Bill Ross when she was a young secretary and he was stationed in France with the military. Decades later, when their spouses died, they reunited and married. Nice, right?

    Marie-Thérèse moved to the U.S. but, sadly, Bill passed away and a dispute over his property erupted between her and his kids. She overstayed her visa by a few months and was ratted out by the kids. That’s when ICE stepped in and arrested her. She was shipped to a concentration camp in Louisiana where she could not be reached by her own children in France (who were worried about her health), because the camp did not accept international calls. SRSLY? And the estate was bupkis: $1,500 in the bank, a couple of cars, and a house valued at $173,000, which, in Jersey, might be enough to buy a parking spot in a Hoboken garage for a compact.

    Get this: The probate judge, Shirley A. Millwood, a Republican, in a ruling, urged the federal government to investigate, “especially in light of the ongoing national events surrounding the distrust of federal law enforcement officers and the many investigations ongoing of corruption within our government.” (I guess word has gotten out?)

    The denouement: Marie-Thérèse was released after 16 days in detention, and returned to France. Here’s how the NYT described her return:

    “Delivered directly to the Alexandria International Airport in Louisiana by immigration officers, Ms. Ross-Mahé was greeted at Paris-Charles de Gaulle Airport by her three adult children. She was still dressed in her prison wear — orange shoes, sweatpants and a gray sweater — covered in stains and holes, according to one of her sons. Ms. Ross-Mahé, who has high blood pressure and back pain from severe sciatica, was in a state of physical shock and spiritual exhaustion, he said.”

    Jean-Noël Barrot, the French foreign affairs minister, who bears a creepy resemblance to Stephen Miller, said “there were acts of violence” in the case that concerned the French government. Tu penses?

    God bless America.

    At 14A in the puzzle today the clue was “Dish purportedly invented in LA’s Little Tokyo neighborhood.” The answer was CALIFORNIA ROLL. But — not so fast!! Anony Mouse posted: “FYI: CALIFORNIA ROLLs were not invented in LA, they were invented in Vancouver by chef Hidekazu Tojo. Took me forever to get that, because I knew they weren’t invented in Little Tokyo.”

    I replied: The last thing I need is to be embroiled (or embaked or emfried) in a sushi debate, but Wikipedia says “The identity of the creator of the California roll is disputed. Several chefs from LA have been cited as the originator, as well as one chef from Vancouver, BC.”

    Happily, there is no similar hoohah regarding the creator of the Gefilte roll, my grandmother Adele, of blessed memory.

    I drew blanks for wordplay with yesterday’s puzzle but hit some sort of dreadful groove today: apologies in advance. My fodder was: HUDSON (“New York’s ____ Valley”); MELTED (“Like the cheese in fondue”); HASSOCKS (“Relatives of ottomans”); BAREFOOT (“How people get into a swimming pool, typically”); RESTEASY (“‘You’ve got nothing to worry about’”); SAG (“Start to give”); DFW (“Texas air hub, for short”); and SAFEWORD (“Term in the bedroom, maybe”).

    Here’s what I came up with:

    Is there a Paul Newman movie for us to watch tonight?

    HUDSON

    License plate on vehicle owned by Brooks and Danson: MELTED

    Advice as the temperature drops: Whoever HASSOCKS shouldn’t go BAREFOOT.

    Frequent complaint about the NYTXW lately: A couple of tricky clues but REST EASY.

    Marina for the octogenarians: SAG Harbor

    A DUI made me miss my ETD at DFW.

    SAFEWORDS (at my age): CALL 911!

    Hubba hubba.

    This poem is called “Nineteen.” It’s from today’s Writer’s Almanac and is by Katrina Vandenberg.

    Carrie and I were hanging our wash on the roof
    of the hostel in Riomaggiore—all we had carried
    in our packs while remaining half-dressed—when
    the Italian couple came up to shower. They shared
    a stall, not caring about us and our sodden rainbow
    of underwear on the line. From the roof
    we could see the Mediterranean bang the cliffs,
    and other roof gardens, with cats and coral
    geraniums like this one. In the shower that morning,
    I had sudsed my hair under the open sky,
    the fingers of the sun electric, like God’s
    on the Sistine Chapel ceiling I’d been herded in
    to see the week before. Now the cotton partitions
    trembled, and the couple’s feet danced
    in the spray, her small red-painted toes digging
    into the tops of his feet. When she cried out,
    Carrie looked at me, and I know we were thinking
    the same thing, as the couple caterwauled in the tongue
    we wanted to learn, and the inbred cats basked,
    and our clothes released the grime of early spring,
    and the son of the hostel owner went to scout another train.

    Thanks for the visit! We’re seeing the Chatham HS production of Chicago tonight. Looking forward to seeing the explosion of youth right there on the stage. Seniors get tix gratis, and ours are in the front row. Report to follow.

  • First Push

    There are a dozen or so puzzle constructors who, when you see their names, you know it will be a well-crafted work. Rafael Musa is one of them. Look at today’s grid.

    Since I dived right in, I didn’t even notice all of the big letter T’s in the grid design. (See them up there?) But they hit me over the head soon enough because the five lower ones served as T’s in each of the three answers hitting them from above: a total of 15. E.g., at 27D, for the clue “Kid who might get grounded” why is the answer BRA? Because the big T below it makes it BRAT. Adding to the elegance, all of the 15 answers that do that also form a word without the T. So you have BRAT and BRA, OPENSEAT and OPENSEA, DIVERT and DIVER, and so on. The only one I questioned was INDICT and INDIC. Is INDIC a word? Yes: Indic languages are a branch of the Indo-Iranian languages in the Indo-European language family. But we all knew that, right?

    My favorite clue/answer was at 49A. For the clue “This isn’t working!” the answer was LEISURE.

    Some folks in the commenting community on Rex Parker’s blog (the Commentariat) have adopted specific tasks. Egs (short for egsforbreakfast) engages in wordplay with the puzzle answers. For example, today: “A LEISURE smells fresh when you first put it around your neck.” I’ve taken on this role too, but haphazardly. Egs never misses a day. And Son Volt is our music man. He shares usually 3 songs a day that are somehow linked to the puzzle. Sometimes it’s hard to find the link: I may have to google the lyrics. Today, this beautiful Irish song was proffered for the FALCONS in its lyrics. In the puzzle, at 20A for the clue “Fast fliers” the answer was FALCONS.

    At 16A, the clue was “Performer known for her runs.” It made the NYT puzzle columnist Sean McGowan think of Dutch track star Femke Bol, whose final-lap comeback in the mixed 4-by-400 relay at the 2024 Olympics was, well — take a look:

    But the answer was POPDIVA. Not in my wheelhouse, as they say. Vocal runs. OK, whatever.

    How’s your marriage holding up? Decades ago, I jokingly asked that of a friend who got married about a month earlier and his face froze. Oopsies.

    This poem is called “Just Married.” It’s from today’s Writer’s Almanac and is by Peter Schmitt. (Love you, darling!)

    Oh, they can be forgiven such innocent
    indulgence, the couple whose car we saw

    in the darkened parking garage today—
    the white spray paint filling the rear window,

    “Just Married,” and the date, now more than two
    weeks old. Let them enjoy this extended

    moment as long as they can, let them feel
    this way always. For their lives, all history,

    could have begun on that day. Regardless
    that the buoyant numerals and letters,

    like the asking price of a car, would appear
    insensibly reversed if, driving, they glanced

    back; the message looms between them and the world
    which will always be trying to gain on them.

    and if in noon glare their first full wedded day
    they cut with a room service knife the strings

    to the cans clinking like obligations,
    they will not let go yet this brief announcement.

    Oh, the elements might eventually
    combine to erase them, enough downpours,

    or the blistering sun, but by the time
    the words no longer quite ring true, it will be

    their own hands that make them vanish. Then let it
    end happily, in a bright lather of suds,

    gentle hiss of the hose and the radio,
    the two together, hands crossing the glass

    until what is revealed are their own faces:
    hovering where their older, wiser friends

    had been that day, imprinting the letters
    the numbers, and giving them their first push down

    that road in a storm of rice and flowers.

    What have you got for us, Philly? Awwwww.

    What’s better than a stirring come-from-behind win in a must-win game? Actually, my favorite type of game is when my team takes an early lead and spends the rest of the time trying to hold on. Whatever, our lady hockey stars, the Sirens, are scrapping with Toronto and Ottawa for the one open playoff spot. Before last night, they had four games to go: two against Toronto, and one against Ottawa. They were a couple of points behind each, so they pretty much need to win all three of those. Last night was the first against Toronto and things were looking bleak halfway through the third half. (Hockey games have three 20-minute halves.) Down 2-0! Ouch. But it was a game that had to be won. So we won, 3-2. Casey O’Brien scored the game winner with under four minutes to go. Never in doubt, right girls?

    Here’s Casey O. skating for Wisconsin in college last year. OMG, those sexy uniforms . . . . Need to compose myself.

    Closing the shop a bit early tonight. Heat and some Isaac time took tolls. But we’ll pick up with more nonsense first thing in the morning! Sleep tight, Chatterheads!

  • Bang-ga-rang

    How deeply has Trump seeped into the culture? We had Chinese takeout with Riverdale Joe on Sunday and this was my fortune cookie:

    Pardon my Yiddish, but I don’t know what the f*ck to make out of this story. Donald Trump, Jr., you-know-who’s idiot son, is getting married again, this time to Bettina Anderson. He’s 48 and she’s 39. Anyway, so they held an over-the-top bridal shower at Mar-a-Lago last Sunday and get this: Trump’s wife du jour, Malaria, did not attend, but her predecessor Marla Maples did.

    Phil caught up with Bettina and Junior at Dick Cheney’s funeral last year.

    Commenter Lewis said that he “uncle-ed” at one point while working on the puzzle today. That is, he “cried uncle.” I noted:

    “Accepting uncle as a verb (for which, thank you!), did I uncle when my sister had her first child? Or was she the uncle-er and I the uncle-ee?”

    “On the other side, my wife has five sisters. When Kathy became the first of the six to have a baby, can we say she established an aunt farm?”

    My own puzzle nonsense played on the following: MANX (“Tail-less cat breed”); KNEE (“Lederhosen typically end just above one”); SEEDER (“Lawn-starting tool”); OTIS (“Soul legend Redding”); and DOHA (“Capital of Qatar”).

    MANX must be one of the XMEN, no?

    What do lederhosen typically end right before? Divorce.

    SEEDER: The traaditional Paassover meal for Jews whose keyboard keys sometimes stick.

    Was it Redding who wrote Dock of the Bay? O TIS true.

    What you should do to show you enjoyed a funny text: DOHA

    One that didn’t make the cut involved SHIV (“Jailhouse weapon”): Can you imagine making one out of ice? Makes me shiver.

    Here’s one of my former tax students, Inga, modeling some lederhosen for us. Thanks Babe! Good luck on the CPA exam!

    How about telling us how you really feel about it, Rex? Rex started his discussion of the puzzle today with “I rarely say this, but I don’t understand how this puzzle got accepted.” Ouch.

    He had a problem with the “uninspired” theme: Four phrases containing the vowels AEIOU in order: WHAT’S NEW WITH YOU?, HASHES IT OUT, APPLE ICLOUD, and WATERING TROUGHS.

    Amazingly, IMO, Lewis came up with:

    “So, finding words and phrases that use all the vowels just once, is hard enough, but it can be done. I’m thinking of the GENIUS AT WORK in MOZAMBIQUE who AMBIDEXTROUSLY ate CAULIFLOWER, played the TAMBOURINE, and, while thinking of JULIA ROBERTS and the FOUNDING FATHERS, wrote with a FOUNTAIN PEN.

    “But, getting the vowels in words and phrases just once in order MAKES IT TOUGH, and I believe it would make for an involving LATE-NIGHT HOUR activity … okay I’m only saying this HALF SERIOUSLY, please don’t TAKE IT OUT on me!”

    Phil? Wanna chime in here? Thanks!

    In the “falling back to Earth with a thud” department, the Gnats came off their three game win streak with a loss in Pittsburgh last night by the score of 16-5. Ouch. Jackson Rutledge was rushed up from Rochester to pitch 1.1 innings and give up 6 hits, 2 walks, and 7 (!) well-earned runs. Hope he didn’t unpack.

    But let’s keep an owl’s eye on defensive whiz Jacob Young who seems to have found his bat this year, hitting .289 and popping his second dinger last night. Normally batting in the nine hole, he was bumped up to the seven spot. I’m a little worried over chills Garcia and House have come down with, batting-wise. But aside from that, scoring runs hasn’t been the problem (yet, kinehora).

    Here’s JY. Nice shot, Philly.

    This poem is called “Flipping the Bird.” It’s by Ann-Margaret Lim and was the poem of the day today from the Poetry Foundation. It rewards repeated readings, IMHO.

    Holding his stare in mine, I flip the bird
    at a grown man

    on a stool in front of the street bar
    on the left shoulder of  Red Hills Road

    where big aluminum pots with crab, or soup
    tell you when it’s Friday, or Wednesday.

    He’d just pssst and winked at me—
    a 12-year-old in the back seat

    of a Buick Skylark
    being driven by my Chinese stepmom.

    Couldn’t be my hair
    —hot-combed for graduation

    styled in two limp pigtails
    and a too-big bang

    my teacher christened a bang-ga-rang
    so, of course, me being a kid

    I flip the bird at him, telling him
    with my eyes, what the finger says.

    Don’t think my stepmom—eyes on the road—
    sees him, or me, flipping out

    and flipping the bird at him.
    Don’t think she hears him, flipping out

    how a little “black gal” like me
    pass mi place, damn renk an’ fiesty.

    It’s time to excoriate the New Yorker for its shitty cartoons again. Here’s a sampling from the 4/20/2026 issue that just arrived.

    On page 69. All you see is a door with handles, like in a commercial building. There is a sign in it that says: “Try pushing first, then pull.”

    Who among us has not found him or herself in the position of having pulled when you should have pushed or pushed when you should have pulled? And who among us can imagine that being the slightest bit humorous when converted into a cartoon? I’ll tell you who — no one on planet Earth, that’s who.

    On page 64. Fathers looking through the window into where all the newborn babies are kept. One father refers to it as “this weird glass baby prison.”

    Yeah. Hysterical.

    On page 59. A little drawing indicates a move from a house in the suburbs to an apartment in NYC. The “hook” is “Helpful vocab for new New Yorkers.” Three terms are then defined:

    Park: Like a yard that you share.

    Subway: Like a car pool in the basement.

    Laundromat: Like an arcade for a laundry.

    And you thought they couldn’t get worse than the first two?

    On page 54. A little boy, dressed like a horse rider is in a room in which three horses are running in a circle. The mom is saying to a friend: “If he’s going to become an equestrian, I’d rather he did it at home.”

    No comment.

    On page 50. A doctor is at his desk, staring at a computer screen. The caption says: “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just put it in the chat.”

    No comment.

    On page 45. A woman is sitting in a comfy chair, holding a cup of tea. Her eyes are closed and she says to her husband “I love listening to the birds in the morning.” In the background, outside the window, you see two small birds seated at a table with headphones on producing a podcast.

    No comment.

    Those are all, unquestionably, beyond horrible. What the hell is going on over there?

    I’m going to close this out with one that I liked. It’s the two guys crawling through the desert dying of thirst genre. They crawl past a cactus and come to a couple dozen golf balls lying haphazardly in the sand. Another ball bounces into the bunch. One of the guys says hopefully: “There’s a driving range around here somewhere.”

    Thumbs up, Frank Cotham.

    The Onion had a pretty hard-hitting, no-holds-barred interview with the Pope. Here are some egg zerps:

    The Onion: It must be boring having to go to church so much.
    Pope Leo XIV: Yes.

    The Onion: What’s your go-to place for hiding Easter eggs?
    Pope Leo XIV: Under stuff. Not many people think to look under stuff.

    I hadn’t realized how much the new Pope looks like Joe Torre. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

    Thanks for popping by, Chatterheads! See you tomorrow!