The Wellington Files

  • The Inside Of The Pomegranate

    It’s not easy being dull. A post I submitted to the Dull Men’s Club (UK) last night was rejected by one of their admins. It’s going to take me a while to recover. Here’s the post, followed by the rule they claim it violates.

    Wife and I enjoyed excellent burgers last night. The menu said they came with fries, which I believe you call chips in the UK. I asked the waiter if we could get something instead of the fries and he said a salad or sweet potato fries. So we asked for a salad for one of us and sweet potato fries for the other. When the check came I saw we were charged $2 for the salad and $3 for the s/p fries. I was not happy about that, but I didn’t make a fuss.

    Now, it’s true, I didn’t ask — will there be an extra charge? But the waiter also didn’t tell me there would be. I wasn’t adding to the fries, just replacing them.

    The meal was excellent, so I can’t be too upset at the place. And it’s the sort of thing I’ll calm down about over time. Still. . . any thoughts?

    Group rules violated

    Keep it dull, not controversial and not a moan…

    Posts and comments that are not dull (e.g. simple statements without a dull back story, jokes, memes, general moans and groans, pictures of your flash car etc.) will be removed, as will opinions/statements/questions/theories that are designed to (or are very likely to) provoke conflict/confrontation/argument – this includes posts/comments mentioning electric vehicles. 

    Hrrrrrumph!

    It’s not Phil. Hard to believe, I know, but for the second time in two months the man arrested for stalking an attractive woman basketball star was not our staff photographer Phil. Last month Paige Bueckers was the stalkee. This time it’s Caitlin Clark. Phil wants to make it clear — it’s not that he isn’t stalking them — it’s just that he hasn’t been arrested for it yet. It’s sort of a “get in line” situation.

    It’s not a joking matter. (But, don’t worry, we won’t let that stop us.) A 55-year-old Texas man named Michael Lewis was arrested in Indianapolis for sending threats and sexually explicit messages to CC via social media.

    The creepy part is Lewis traveled from Texas to Indianapolis with the “intent to be in close proximity” to Clark. When confronted by police in a hotel room, Lewis claimed to be in Indianapolis on vacation. The police were immediately skeptical, noting “who the hell comes to Indianapolis on vacation?”

    When asked by officers why he referenced Clark in so many social media posts, he said “Just the same reason everybody makes posts.” (Makes sense.)

    Clark told the police she “has been very fearful since learning of the messages and that she has altered her public appearances and patterns of movement due to fear for her safety.”

    Concerned for Clark’s safety, our Phil tells us he plans to spend the next few months staying as close to her as he can all the time — following her every move and staying in constant touch with her via social media to make sure she isn’t being stalked. Seems reasonable.

    Here’s a shot of Caitlin pointing out the creep who has been following her to teammate Erica Wheeler. Wheeler said, “OK, CC, if the cops don’t grab his white ass soon I’ll have some brothers ‘reason’ with him.”

    Here’s a poem about chickens by Tom Healy from Poets.org. It’s called “Sonnet for the Chickens.”

    The picture of elegance, my grandfather.
    I wanted his photograph in the dictionary.
    Alone of the men I knew as a kid, 
    he always wore a shirt with a collar,
    always shined his shoes. Equanimity
    in a family on the run from itself.
    He amazed me once with a cardboard box
    of baby chicks, each in a small square as if
    he’d waved a wand over a carton of eggs.
    A fuzz of feathers, beaks and fragile lives.
    No more afraid than all of us, he said.
    Just sit with them, tell them apart, listen.
    Only if you see someone, can you become
    someone. Long gone, he still is and they are.

    The puzzle today had a quidditch theme — the game from the Harry Potter books. I didn’t read them and it left me cold. Rowling is viewed as the devil by many for her anti-trans stance. Rex cited an article in Glamour today for a good discussion of the issue: https://www.glamour.com/story/a-complete-breakdown-of-the-jk-rowling-transgender-comments-controversy. And he quoted it:

    Rowling is still “not the final boss of transphobia. A movement can’t get along without a devil. And across the whole political spectrum, there’s a misogynistic tendency to choose a female devil. Whether it’s Anita Bryant, Hillary Clinton, Marie Antoinette, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, or J.K. Rowling.” The real threat to trans people is the Republican party. Rowling and others are “useful idiots who put a concerned female face on the patriarchal violence against trans people that will ultimately be enacted by right-wing men.”

    It generated a discussion on whether a work of art can be appreciated independently of the noxious character of the artist.

    Commenter DR J (who I am guessing is not Julius Erving) wrote:

    I read the first page of the first Harry Potter book in a bookshop back in 1997 and decided not for me. I also tried one of Rowling’s adult detective books and was disappointed by the weak plotting. Still l agree that the works of writers or artists should not be judged by their views. In this connection l can cite the Talmud (finalized c. 500 CE) which tells of Rabbi Meir (c.
    150 CE) who insisted on continuing to study with his former teacher, Elisha ben Abuya, a great Torah scholar who had become an outspoken heretic. When asked why he did so, Rabbi Meir replied: ” l eat the inside of the pomegranate and then l throw away the rind.” (Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Chagigah, 15b, redacted).

    Hey, what are the odds? Today’s stalkee, Caitlin Clark, was in the puzzle too. The clue was “Signature Caitlin Clark shot, informally,” and the answer was THREE.  

    At 33A today, a “poorly behaved child” was the clue for BRAT.

    DR A says:

    Calling a misbehaved child a BRAT is horrible and should be stopped. The child is either hungry, tired, overwhelmed, bored, poorly parented or neurodivergent. Every time I see this in a puzzle my blood boils.

    Anony Mouse responded: So you are.. hungry?

    We’ll give the Ramones the last word on it.

    [Note from our legal department: Owl Chatter does not advocate beating brats with baseball bats.]

    Once in great while we treat ourselves to hot dogs here at Owl Chatter. Hebrew National, from the freezer. Today was the day. We had nice rolls from Costco, honey mustard, and Irish Cheddar. But when I went to open a new bag of sauerkraut, I saw that it had inflated like a balloon — like a football before Tom Brady got his hands on it.

    I remember hearing somewhere that it’s not good if a can inflates, so I feared the kraut went bad. But google tells me it’s a natural result of fermentation and not a problem. It said I should rinse it with cold water, which I did. The dogs were delish!

    Eight towns in the Midwest are listed in Wikipedia as celebrating “sauerkraut days” each year. These babes are at one in Illinois.

    Just three hours ago, Daniel Kingdon of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) posted the following: I’m doing an old house up, including relining the roof and I found this tile.

    Jon Kasch wrote: Frame that now!!!

    Kingdon replied: I’m going to have dinner first.

    Jon: Okay. I got excited.

    And I couldn’t resist posting the following: I have one grandson named Isaac (4), and another named Morris (3). Can’t be a coincidence. But what does it mean?

    Tomorrow in the Prudential Center in Newark the NY Sirens will take on the Minnesota Frost and Owl Chatter will be there. Can’t wait!!

    Thanks for popping by!

  • Broken English

    I liked the clue at 39D in the puzzle today: “Cheese-loving test subjects.” The answer was LAB MICE. It reminded me of a New Yorker cartoon from long ago. There is a little cage with a mouse that has hung himself. And one scientist says to the other: “Bad news on the anti-depressant.”

    Then there’s this comment today: Can’t agree with confusing “lab rats” with “lab mice.” The latter are animals being used in experiments, and they have no choice about being lab animals; the former are typically students who choose to spend an excessive amount of time in the lab.

    The puzzle had pretensions of erudition: the central clue was “Tongue of Chaucer,” and the answer was MIDDLE ENGLISH, but all it really did was take the pronouns THINE, THY, THEE, and THOU, and insert them into the “middle” of longer words or phrases. The best was TRUTHINESS, for THINE.

    Did you know that in Ye Olde Candy Shoppe, the “y” is a stand-in for the long lost letter “thorn” (“Þ, þ“), which was replaced by “th” during the Early Modern period? So “Ye” there is pronounced “the,” not “yee.” If you are using “ye” as an old version of “you,” it’s pronounced “yee.” Also — if you’re wondering about “Who,” he’s on first.

    It was a short hop from Middle English, to “Broken English,” the Marianne Faithfull song from 1979. Some of you may remember it.

    MF was dating Mick Jagger for a time (1966-70), but none of Mick’s eight children are from Marianne. She has one child, with a different dad.

    It must be old song week. Son Volt shared this Jackson Browne hit with us, since the answer at 44D was DELUGE, clued with “Downpour.” (Nice that it crossed LIGHTHOUSE, the theme answer that contained THOU.)

    Some of them were dreamers
And some of them were fools

    A bit of a hoo-ha erupted recently over bald-faced lies vs. bold-faced lies, to say nothing of bare-faced lies. It raged loudly enough to draw the attention of the NYT Games people. Here’s the scoop — all three are acceptable. Bare-faced was the original. Then came bald-faced, which is the preferred version in formal writing. But it morphed into bold-faced (like bold print), which is acceptable as well.

    Rex was not happy with the clue at 27A: “Disinfectant brand with the tagline ‘Healthing.’” It’s an invented slogan by the LYSOL people. Sort of like Steve Colbert’s “truthiness” but lacking in charm. Are you “healthing” when you kill germs with Lysol?

    Graham King posted the following for the Dull Men’s Club (UK):

    I would be quiet happy if I never left the house again. I have on several occasions thought how plausible it would be to have everything delivered, my job is very easy to do from home, I have two internet connections to ensure i can do my job. Whilst at home i would also try to become as self sufficient as possible and live our lives (me and my wife) from our home. Interactions with other people become so problematic, face to face. Am I alone with this thought?

    Anne Finnanger: No.

    Margaret McKean: Yes.

    Andy S. Carvey: It’s what those in charge want.

    Darren Hilburn: Text book introvert here. While I don’t practice what I preach, even I know that after you’ve done the whole being of service/responsibilities thing, the only point of humans is meaningful relationships with other humans.

    Steve Craig: I enjoy being at home. I work from home and have as much as possible delivered. I avoid interacting with people, even in a supermarket I use the self checkout. BUT, this is due to Depression so I recognise it’s probably not normal and may not be healthy. I do enjoy spending time on my own or with my dog, even going on holiday or to gigs alone. I could certainly live in a log cabin in the wilderness. One of my favourite books is Walden by Henry Theroux.

    I was rooting for Tampa Bay last night vs. Wash. I have a soft spot in my heart for their coach Todd Bowles, who suffered a few seasons with the Jets. The game was tight (23-20), but Tampa lost it when they couldn’t convert a 3rd and one late in the game, settled for a game-tying field goal, and gave the ball back to Washington who only needed to bleed the clock and kick a FG of their own for the win. We’re set up for a good Wash/Detroit game on Saturday. Go Lions! Here’s Todd with wife Taneka and sons Todd, Jr., Troy, and Tyson.

    We’ll let the Bowleses usher us out tonight. See you tomorrow!

  • If You Live Alone And You Like Fish

    My knowledge of opera is negligible, but I reasoned my way to the answer at 80D in today’s puzzle because the clue was good: “Opera character whose name might be heard in an opera singer’s warm-up.” You got it, right? MIMI. Here’s Rex’s note on it:

    An elaborate but very clever clue. MIMI is the female lead in Puccini’s La Bohème, which is the opera that Guy and Geneviève go to see at the beginning of The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, which I saw on the big screen for the first time just a couple days ago (60th Anniversary 4K restoration). That movie feels silly at first, but it turns into something moving and magical. Also, it just looks Amazing. Every frame. [Whoops, my wife reminds me they saw Carmen in Umbrellas, not La Bohème, my bad.]

    The clue at 122A was nettlesome: Walker with the 2015 triple-platinum hit “Faded”). You can make it quintuple-platinum if you want, I still never heard of it from under my rock. Any Walker other than Alice will be unknown to me. Or maybe Dustin Hoffman? — “Hey, I’m walkin’ here!” I can’t even think of any well-known Walker ballplayers. Oops, (googling) — my mistake — there’s Larry Walker in the HOF, and Rube Walker, old Brooklyn Dodger catcher. Rube was on their 1955 WS-winning team. Hey, and I just learned he was catching on 10/3/1951 when Bobby Thomson hit his famous HR: the “shot heard round the world.” (And now I remember Dixie Walker and Harry Walker, so never mind.)

    Anyway, the puzzle was looking for ALAN Walker, and here’s his duodecuple-platinum song.

    At 22D, “House, slangily,” was the clue for CRIB. Rex shared this video that is hysterical, IMO. I even took the title of today’s post from it.

    In Maureen Dowd’s piece in today’s NYT Opinion section, she remarks on W’s snub of DJT at the Carter funeral: “W. has clearly not changed his opinion of Trump since he famously said, after watching his American Carnage Inaugural speech, “That was some weird shit.”

    As some of you know, my wife Linda has five sisters. Is it misogynistic to say at this point that it explains in part why her dad was a drinkin’ man? Anyway, I used to mention in class from time to time that I majored in brothers-in-law.

    Here’s a story by Danny Klecko that appeared in today’s Met Diary. It’s called “Albertine.”

    Dear Diary:

    What do I know about France?
    What do I know about French bookstores in New York City?
    Not much is the answer to both questions.
    But I do know about sisters.
    And I saw two sisters in the French bookstore.
    It’s not like I asked them: “Are you sisters?”
    I didn’t need to. I could tell by watching them amid a dispute.
    When sisters have conflict, their reactions are unique.
    Sister #1 said something I couldn’t hear.
    Sister #2 replied: “In Malaysia, people don’t mention the tiger for fear it will draw him out.” I’m not sure if this was an allegory, but for a moment, the moment became sharp. Coincidentally, in a moment, after that moment, the sisters hugged each other with their eyes, while allowing each other red carpets of retreat.
    I didn’t end up buying a French book.
    Instead I considered sisters.
    Before leaving in pursuit of ice cream.

    We sent Phil a note on his assignment for that story that just said one word: “Sisters.” He sent this in:

    Jonathan Page, of the Dull Men’s Club (UK), in this post, alerts us to an extraordinary fact we had no idea was true. He writes:

    “I was recently told, whilst in Canterbury for their Christmas market, that British Galloping Horses or Gallopers (carousel) [or merry-go-round] rotate clockwise, whilst U.S. versions rotate anti-clockwise. The Canterbury Gallopers rotated anti-clockwise. Does this mean the ride was imported, or have British manufacturers adopted the U.S. way? Or was I misinformed?”

    Paul Goodwin explained: If all carousels spun the same way the earth would be knocked off its axis and float off into space.

    Extensive research conducted by Owl Chatter (a minute or two of googling) confirms the fact that, indeed, there is a directional difference between European and American carousels, with the former generally going clockwise and the latter anti. We did not discover why. And Canterbury is apparently an exception.

    Looks like Phil may have gotten lucky with this attracive young merry-go-rounder.

    We’re heading down to New Brunswick soon to hear the NJ Symphony. We often grab gourmet hot dogs at Destination Dogs when we’re down there. It’s one of our favorite places. We shared a Brat Favre last time. Good beer too. But we’re leaning towards burgers at the Harvest Moon Brewery today. Yum.

    See you tomorrow!

  • Pride Parade

    Today was the first time I’ve seen KATE SMITH in the puzzle. Remember her? The clue was “Contralto singer known as the “First Lady of Radio.” Philly Flyers fans know all about KS. Her rendition of God Bless America became the team’s good luck anthem, back in their Stanley Cup days. How effective was it? — They erected a statue of her. And the Yankees played GBA during their 7th-inning stretches for close to 20 years. Then all hell broke loose. It emerged that she recorded songs viewed as racist earlier in her career. The statue was removed and GBA stopped playing. Here’s what Wikipedia says about it.

    Smith’s rendition of “God Bless America” was played during the seventh-inning stretch of New York Yankees home games from 2001 until April 2019, when the practice was discontinued amid controversy surrounding her 1931 recordings of “That’s Why Darkies Were Born” and “Pickaninny Heaven”. The following day, the Philadelphia Flyers followed suit, and the statue of Smith outside the Flyers’ arena was removed.

    Her family responded by denying the racism allegations. They cited the satirical nature of the song “That’s Why Darkies Were Born”, and the fact that it was also popularized by Paul Robeson. The song “Pickaninny Heaven” is from the movie Hello, Everybody!, one of whose writers was Fannie Hurst, an advocate for African American equality.

    Get this — In 1969, after Jim Morrison’s arrest in Miami for indecent exposure, Smith performed with The Lettermen, Anita Bryant, and Jackie Gleason in a concert demonstration against indecency, and President Nixon commended the stars’ performances. Et tu, Ralph?

    Jeez Louise. Yesterday Peter of Peter, Paul, and Mary gets smeared, and now Kate Smith. God Bless America.

    “Pride parade participant?” Four letters, but LGBT didn’t work. Turned out to be LION. Nice. And “De-briefed” was a fun clue for PANTSED.

    Here’s a true story that I love because I actually said what I said at the right time rather than only think of it later.

    Caity had to be in the hospital for a few days when she was in her teens, nothing serious, and they gave her the choice of being in a regular double room where the roommate would be any patient — some wheezing old man, for example, or of being in a kids area. Since some of the kids were in for psychological issues, there were some safety rules, like any gifts people brought in had to be cleared with the nurse.

    So we came for visiting hours that night and got on line to have the nurse OK a few small items we brought (blow torch, chain saw, etc.). The couple ahead of us were having some small toys reviewed — cheap little nothings — but the nurse was rejecting each one for various reasons — this edge is sharp, these small pieces can be dangerous, etc. Each rejection was like a physical blow to the mom — not that she cared so much about the little toy, but it was a comment on the seriousness of her daughter’s situation, that she was in danger from it. And after the third rejection, she exploded and exclaimed “Be Nicer!!”

    The nurse was taken aback and said “What do you mean? I’m being nice,” and the dad said, “No, you’re being very officious.”

    Well, the nurse was devastated — it’s a caring profession — and stammered out something about the safety rules being important. And they said, “This is very hard for us, you should show some sympathy.” She hurriedly cleared the next few items and they left.

    Linda and I went up to her next. She looked at us like she had just been to war. Pale and near tears. I looked at her reassuringly, and said: “It’s okay — you don’t have to be nice to us.”

    *****

    Phil, as always, was on hand, and took this shot of her.

    Stories from The Onion:

    U.S. Mint Introduces New Controversial John Wilkes Booth Pennies

    Biden Wanders Into Flames

    I’m thrilled to be moving a nice dollhouse I had in my office at school into Zoey’s room for her ninth birthday Monday. Here it is from the outside. Once it’s set up, I’ll try to share some shots of the furnishings with you.

    Good night. See you tomorrow!

  • From Yankton To Wichita

    Henry Curran, of the Dull Men’s Club (UK), poses the following:

    Could you settle a dispute between my wife and me please as to whether my conduct in the situation I’ll describe was appropriate.

    Some years ago we were driving along a quiet road in Devon and I saw a man standing in front of his car, the bonnet of which was open, and holding the ends of a pair of jump leads, the other ends of which appeared to be connected to his car. It was obvious what he needed. He knew what he was doing and had the requisite equipment. He was just lacking a supply of electricity such as the one I happened to be driving. I pulled up with my bonnet as close to his as possible, and pulled the bonnet release lever. He opened the bonnet, connected his jump leads, started his car with no difficulty, disconnected the leads, closed my bonnet and gave me a thumbs up. I reversed then drove away giving him a cheery wave. We didn’t exchange any words and kept our communication to a thumbs up gesture and a cheery wave.

    Now to my mind this was a model of friendly efficiency. It was helpful and avoided any unnecessary excitement. It maintained as much dullness as possible and both got him on his way and allowed us to continue on ours with only the very briefest of interruptions.

    My wife feels that it was heartless and unfriendly. She thinks I should have got out, asked him how he was and had a bit of a natter. I’m not sure what we should have nattered about though.

    So please, your views… was this friendly efficiency or cold-hearted rudeness?

    There were 134 comments. As always, I will choose from among the dullest.

    Bob Farrer: Divorce her.

    Liam Power: Good grief, human interaction? No thanks!

    Daniel North: “Some years ago?” Is she still going on about it?

    Bt Humble: Just say you’re sorry. You’re a married man, you should know this by now.

    Fraser Mackie: Like a Haiku in its simplicity, yet deeply meaningful. Hat doffed.

    Michael James: The epitome of the difference between men and women right there!

    Ruth Hunt: My husband would have done exactly the same…..even if it had been me that he helped.

    Jon Bird: Imagine if it had a been a charming woman who was holding the jump leads and you helped start the car, all the while chatting about this and that, and she gives you a sexy ”thank youuu..” when done. Would wifey had been so keen on communication..?

    Chris Ball: I’d have been very wary of approaching him as he was obviously just wanting to start something!

    Alan Briggs: I’m too dull to read all of that….However in my experience I will side with the wife. I don’t know the situation but I learnt that the wife is always right.

    Linda Hurst: It seems men get far more chatty when out and about once they retire! Now 2 women would probably have exchanged life histories in that time.

    Anne Warner: Definitely! I come home from taking the dog for a walk and come back knowing a complete stranger’s life history. Hubbie takes the dog and probably just says ‘morning’ to anyone he meets. He says I like to know the ins and outs of a duck’s arse!

    Robin Armstrong: That’s the most perfect human interaction I’ve ever heard about.

    Sam Shamus Mwaura: Why couldn’t she get out and natter? If she feels your nonverbal but completely functional level of communication is lacking, perhaps, as your life partner and spouse, she could handle that side of things.

    The risk though, is that the other chap’s wife would step out and then you would feel obliged to, and next thing you know you’re going on English Heritage castle tours, and then they try to induct you into a questionable religious society, and will be coming round yours every week for a natter and catchup. Stay in the car… or drive on and don’t make eye contact if you want to play it extra safe.

    Regarding the above — the best definition I’ve heard of the difference between a man and a woman is this: If it came down to a choice between catching a fly ball or saving the life of a baby, a woman will go for the baby without even considering if there are men on base.

    A special Owl Chatter shout out to Riley Leonard, Notre Dame quarterback who led the Irish to a dramatic win over Penn State in the Orange Bowl last night. He’s from Fairhope, Alabama, as is his girlfriend Molly, who was his high school sweetheart. Yup, the quarterbacks always get the pretty ones. She’s in college at Auburn. After the Penn State game, he was desperate to find her. He was holding four oranges in his hands and was intent on giving her one. “She loves oranges,” he explained.

    This poem by Ted Kooser is one of my favorites from Winter Morning Walks.

    Horsetail cirrus miles above,
    stretched all the way from Yankton to Wichita.
    I stoop on the road, small man in coat and cap,
    tying his shoe.

    A curled, brown leaf lies on its back,
    lifting its undistinguished edges
    into the glory of frost.

    Good night, Chatterheads! So glad you could pop by.

  • Blowin’ In The Wind

    DJT surprised us by exhibiting adroit leadership qualities in the face of the devastating California fires. Just kidding, of course. Here’s what he said:

    “Governor Gavin Newscum (sic) refused to sign the water restoration declaration put before him that would have allowed millions of gallons of water to flow daily into many parts of California, including the areas that are currently burning.”

    Newscum, sorry, Newsome, being a little busy actually dealing with the crisis, kept his response short: “There is no such document as the water restoration declaration.”

    The remaining owl terms (just 3, not 4):

    1. Gillhooter: Barn owl. Gill is short for the name Gillian, and means “girl” or “sweetheart.” Gillhooter has been, used for male or female (usually barn) owls, however, as can jenny howlett. Here’s our little sweetheart now: Awww.

      2. Strix: Owls who lack ear tufts, including the tawny owl and the barred owl. Yup, no ear tufts on this fella (or gal).

      3. Saw-whet: a very small harsh-voiced owl that is largely dark brown above and chestnut streaked with white beneath. It was named by someone who thought the owl’s piping, tooting call sounded like a saw being filed. Try to stay on this one’s good side.

      The clue at 32D today was “Notable site of enlightenment.” I was pretty sure the answer was CARNEGIE DELI, but I was wrong. Ever hear of the BODHI TREE? It’s a large sacred fig tree known as a tree of awakening or enlightenment. The expression “I don’t give a fig” comes from it. (No it doesn’t.)

      It was under this tree that Buddha attained enlightenment back around 500 BCE. The original no longer exists, but there are others, including a descendant of the original. Here’s one: note the heart-shaped leaves.

      At 22D, Singer Gomez, was SELENA. It hasn’t all been roses for SG. She grew up very poor and was diagnosed with lupus about ten years ago. In 2017 she received a kidney transplant. During the operation, an artery broke and emergency surgery was conducted to build a new artery using a vein from her leg. Kinehora, she seems okay today.

      The puzzle made me draw on all of my knowledge of Italian today, which doesn’t go much beyond the menu at Nonna’s in Florham Park. “Italian for baked,” COTTA, crossed “Entire in Italian,” TUTTO.

      Peter from Peter, Paul, and Mary died on Tuesday at age 86 in Manhattan. Paul is the only one left: he just turned 87 and must be getting nervous. Mary was 72 when she died back in 2009. Our Phil was very close with Mary back in the day, and dug this old shot of her out of an old scrapbook for us.

      I only learned about the blemish in Peter’s life today from the obit in the Times. I had no idea he went to jail for “taking indecent liberties” with a 14-year-old girl who came to his dressing room for an autograph in 1969. Yikes! The Times implies it played a role in the trio’s breakup. He was pardoned by Jimmy Carter in 1981 but the blemish remained, and a performance by him was canceled in 2019 due to Metoo protests.

      Peter married Marybeth McCarthy in 1969, a niece of Pres. candidate Eugene McCarthy. They divorced, but remarried just two years ago. He is survived by Marybeth, their two kids, and a grandchild, each of whom had a hammer.

      I’m going to try to remember him without the smudge. Rest in peace, Peter.

      Good night everybody. See you tomorrow.

    1. Superb Owls

      In his press conference at M-a-L yesterday, DJT was asked if he’d rule out the use of military force or economic coercion to wrest Greenland away from Denmark and/or to grab the Panama Canal. “No, I can’t assure you on either of those two,” he replied. No mention was made of the two additional sled dog teams Denmark has already assigned to defend the island (not kidding). There was some confusion on the follow-up question on whether he might nuke Greenland. He said Nuuk is already the capital of Greenland, which it is!

      In another note for Owl Chatter’s “You Can’t Make This Stuff Up” Department, Trump also said the Gulf of Mexico should be renamed the Gulf of America, and Marjorie T. Greene already has a proposal on it which she will introduce this week.

      [We are unable to include a photo of the Prez-elect for this story, because Phil refuses to photograph him. He sent in this shot of a Greenland woman wearing the territory’s traditional dress instead. He also told us he is marrying her and moving there, but he was probably kidding.]

      You’ll never guess who popped into the grid today. ZERO MOSTEL. Leave it to constructor Laura Dershowitz (Alan’s daughter) to conjure him up. He was clued a bit boringly with “Fiddler on the Roof star,” but we’ll take him any way we can get him. Some Brandeis-folk will recall Zero’s son Josh was there with us for a while. Josh just turned 78, kinehora. Here are Zero, and then Josh, and then Gene Wilder talking about Zero in a clip shared with us by Rex today.

      With the Super Bowl exactly one month away from tomorrow (on Feb 9), it’s time we talked about Super Bowls. Oops — I made a spacing error — I meant superb owls.

      Our friend Miriam Webster sends us a “word of the day” every day, which I often ignore. But I looked at today’s and am very glad I did. It’s GELID and it means icy, extremely cold. Right off the bat I’m the better for it — I wrongly thought it meant, like, gelled, or “having jello-like qualities.” And then Miriam went on to discuss nine words about owls, reminding me as well about that spacing feature of “super bowls” and “superb owls.” Well, it’s about time we devoted some time to owls on Owl Chatter, don’t you think? Here are the first five owls or owl-related terms. (Four to follow next time.)

      1. Billywix: a tawny owl. Billy is a play upon the beak or bill, which is very striking in the owl, and Wix is the german weck (a wig), alluding to the ‘judge-like’ appearance. Guilty!, says this fellow — Guilty as charged!

        2. Madge: barn owl. Likely short for “Margaret,” it’s another word that has been used for owls generally, and the barn owl in particular. Variants of madge include madge owl, gillhooter, gillihowlet, madge howlet, hissing owl, screech owl, white owl, church owl, padge, and padge owl. Some Brits also use madge to refer to the magpie.

        3. Tu-whit tu-whoo: the cry of an owl.

        4. Howlet: another term for owl or owlet, often a small one.

        5. Harfang: a snowy owl. Sometimes pure white but usually with browning spots or bars. From the Swedish word for “hare catcher.” OMG: so beautiful.

        Now that you know what a Natick is in Crossworld (from a recent post), I can tell you I Naticked today at the “O” crossing of LISBOA (“Portugal’s capital, in Portugal”) with ORALE (“Papal vestment”). The latter set Rex off, as follows:

        Extremely easy puzzle—hardly hesitated while filling it all in—except for one answer: a textbook piece of crosswordese risen from the dead to haunt and ultimately destroy this puzzle. There may as well not be any other words in this puzzle. It’s so weird and alien and from-outerspace that it’s hard to pay attention to anything else. I’m talking of course about ORALE. This is the kind of word that crosswords of yore used to rely on a lot because, I mean, look at those letters! Choice, common letters. Think about how often you see ORATE or ORALB or even ORANG in the puzzle, Wouldn’t it be nice to have somewhere else to go when facing ORA–? Well, yes it would. So, because everyone was filling grids by hand with no computer assistance, constructors used to cling to just about Anything that counted as a “word.” And so ORALEs filled the grid. Never a dominant word, but … look at this ORALE frequency chart. I mean, really look at it, because it is telling:

        If you want to know one of Will Shortz’s greatest accomplishments as a NYTXW editor, just stare at that chart. He slew the ORALE! And not only the ORALE, but lots of other arcane nonsense just like it. He got rid of (or seriously minimized) the awful stuff (known broadly as “crosswordese”) and filled the resulting void with slang, colloquialisms, names from pop culture, music, sports, the supermarket aisle.—everyday things. The constructors had something to do with it, obviously, but the puzzle took a more populist, more general-knowledge, more “fun” turn when Shortz took over, that’s for sure. Goodbye, ORALE! You can see he tolerated it for a decade or so and then poof—gone. For almost twenty years, absolutely extinct. Which was fitting, as the term ORALE itself is extinct, replaced long ago by “fanon,” which is itself pretty obscure. The question is, why is ORALE in this puzzle today? Head-shakingly bad. Everyone involved in ORALE-gate should apologize.

        On the plus side, the clue “Noneternal flames?” was great for: EXES. I also liked “Wrinkle remover,” for BOTOX.

        Ryder Cowan of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) asks:

        When your mobile rings, do you

        1. Answer, but wait for the caller to speak first?

        2. Answer, and say ‘hello’?

        3. Answer, and say ‘yes’?

        4. Answer, and say ‘may I help you’?

        5. Answer, and say ‘what is it’?

        6. Answer, and say your mobile number?

        7. Answer, and say your first and last names?

        8. Answer, and say your last name?

        9. Divert to voicemail?

        10. Just ignore it?

        11. Do something different?

        There were 81 replies. Here are some of the dullest.

        James Nolan: If it’s my Nana, I say “Hiya Nana.”

        Bernhard Slatcher: Only eleven options?

        Dave Matthews: I just shout “What!” in a disgruntled voice.

        Bill Lord:  The one thing I will never ever say to some unknown body on any phone is “Yes.” I do not want anyone to be able to pretend to be me and to buy something by using “yes” from my voice print.

        Sarah Robb: If I answer, it’s usually with, “Hello”, or “Hello, it’s Sarah”. The tone I use depends on whether or not I’m expecting a call, and also from whom.

        Avi Liveson: That’s not very helpful for those of us who are not named Sarah.

        Debbie Mackay: I always say “Yellow.” I don’t think anyone has noticed.

        See you tomorrow!

      1. Hobson’s Choice

        We’ve heard the Sirens’ song, and got tickets! We’ll be seeing the NY Sirens of The Professional Women’s Hockey League take on the Minnesota Frost at the Prudential Center in Newark. It will be my birthday eve celebration. You remember Eve, right? We have good seats and I think I will be able to access the tix on my phone, after bumbling around for about 30 minutes last night.

        We met the beautiful Siren Sarah Fillier yesterday. Say hi today to another knockout on the roster: Brooke Hobson. Brooke is Saskatchewan, and learned to skate at the age of 3. You’ll find her on defense. Don’t let the sweet smile fool you. If you try to get by her with a puck, she will knock your teeth out with that stick without a moment’s hesitation. Hobson’s choice for college was Northeastern, where she majored in Psych.

        I think I located another Jew on the roster too! Gabby Rosenthal. Has to be, right? Born in Minny; college at Ohio State (boo!). Here’s Gabby:

        Guess what The Writer’s Almanac threw our way today? — a puzzle by Sally Bliumis-Dunn called “Crossword.”

        The white and black squares
        promise order
        in the morning mess
        of mulling over

        the latest political morass,
        what’s on sale at Kohl’s,
        the book review.

        Each letter, shared,
        which lifts away
        some sheen of loneliness I
        can’t quite explain.

        This week, “arsenic” and “forsythia”
        are joined by their i‘s
        like long-estranged cousins.

        And when they ask
        for the French equivalent of sky,
        I’m back on a wooden chair

        in Madame Baumlin’s
        eighth-grade class, passing
        a note to David, having

        no idea, as my hand grazes his,
        that he will drown sailing
        that next summer.

        I like doing the crossword
        with my husband —
        Source of support,
        three letters.

        I’m the one who guesses it,
        glad he doesn’t think
        of ” bra” in this way.

        The puzzle rests
        on the counter all week.

        I like coming back,
        looking at the same clue
        I found insolvable
        the day before, my mind

        often a mystery to me,
        turning corners when I sleep
        or am upstairs folding clothes.

        They get added to pounds.
        Yesterday I thought
        it had to do with money or meat;

        now I can see the chain-link fence
        at the local animal shelter.
        Of course. “Strays”

        I especially like what she does with arsenic and forsythia. Bliumis-Dunn teaches Modern Poetry and Creative Writing at Manhattanville College. She earned a degree in Russian Literature and Language at UC Berkeley, back in ’83. She looks like a poet, amirite?

        There was a lot to like in today’s NYTXW, the clue at 51A, e.g., “Bygone waffle slogan.” Waffle slogan? Well, they gave you the back part, so it was easy. “[Blank] my Eggo” Answer, of course, is LEGGO. And how’s this for a non-depressing clue for DIE? “Random number generator.”

        I’m crying foul at 21A, though. “_____ Szewinska, only sprinter (male or female) to hold world records in the 100m, 200m and 400m events.” I would have had no hope even if she ran currently for the U.S. But her medals were all back in the 60s/70s, and for Poland. IRINA. Maybe I should’ve known her because she’s Jewish? Nah. Tough clue, esp for a Tuesday.

        I liked “You get the picture” as the clue for ETCETERA, and “Whoa, that’s good” for OOH BABY. And Dua LIPA was nicely placed next to EYE OPENER. Here’s DL, a little miffed at Phil for intruding on her workout.

        Story from the Onion: Japanese Fishermen Catch 600-Pound Can Of Tuna.

        “From the moment I felt the lip of the can tugging on our line, I knew it was going to be the catch of a lifetime,” said fisherman Hideo Kamada, posing with his crew in front of the shiny 10-foot tin of solid-white albacore and beaming with pride. “These chunks of fish packed in vegetable oil put up quite a fight. I’ve personally never hauled in anything larger than a 24-pack of StarKist, so once I got a glimpse of that shiny aluminum container at the surface of the water, I knew it was something special. It took all of our strength to reel it in without damaging the paper label, but we finally were able to lift it up onto the deck and into a shopping cart.”

        Bill Jeffs, of the Dull Men’s Club (UK), posted the following:

        A few months back a 7-year-old great nephew was all agog for his next day at school, not sure what he’d been told but he was convinced they were going into space. Not totally unreasonable as they go to museums and other visits as part of school. Anyway, he came home totally disappointed, as they only talked about it and saw pictures but didn’t go anywhere.

        I’m contemplating whether or not I tell him it’s unlikely he’ll go there even at senior school. Thoughts?

        Paul O’Donnell: Tell him. He can handle the truth. He already had a taste of it.

        Gareth White: Why not tell him about income tax and inflation while you’re at it?

        It feels like Sunday today (it’s Tuesday). Is that part of being retired? Will every day feel like Sunday? Yesterday didn’t. See you tomorrow!

      2. Grapey Immigrants

        Happy Birthday, E. L. Doctorow! Dead since 2015, but so what? The E is for Edgar: His dad was a big Poe fan. Later in life, Doctorow asked his mom: “Do you realize that you and Dad named me after a paranoid, drug-addicted alcoholic with necrophiliac tendencies?” His aging mother replied, “Edgar, that’s not funny.”

        This poem, from today’s Writer’s Almanac, is by Barbara Crooker and is called “Monopoly 1955.”

        We start by fanning out the money, colored
        like Necco wafers: pink, yellow, mint, gold.
        From the first roll of the dice, differences widen:
        the royal blues of Boardwalk and Park Place
        look down their noses at the grapey immigrants
        from Baltic and Mediterranean Avenues.
        My grandparents coming from Italy in steerage
        measured their gold in olive oil, not bank notes
        and deeds. The man in the top hat and tuxedo
        always holds the good cards. The rest of us
        hope we can pay the Electric Company.
        We know there is no such thing as Free Parking,
        and Bank Errors are never in our favor.
        In the background, Johnny Mathis croons
        Chances Are from the cracked vinyl radio.
        We played for hours, in those years
        before television, on the Formica table,
        while my mother coaxed a chicken,
        cooking all day on the back burner, to multiply
        itself into many meals. The fat rose to the surface,
        a roiling ocean of molten gold.

        Here’s a photo of Rex Parker (not his real name) whose blog partly inspired Owl Chatter, though it’s limited in scope to the daily NYTXW and whatever doors it opens. He’s an English prof in Binghamton.

        That shirt he’s wearing is significant. In Crossworld, a Natick refers to being caught between two clues (across + down) that you simply don’t know, so there’s no way to work out a solution. Check mate. Rex came up with the term, as he explains: “A long time ago, I was solving a puzzle and got stuck at an unguessable (to me) crossing: N. C. WYETH crossing NATICK at the ‘N’—I knew WYETH but forgot his initials, and NATICK … is a suburb of Boston that I had no hope of knowing. It was clued as someplace the Boston Marathon runs through (???). Anyway, NATICK— the more obscure name in that crossing—became shorthand for an unguessable cross, esp. where the cross involves two proper nouns, neither of which is exceedingly well known. NATICK took hold as crossword slang, and the term can now be both noun (“I had a NATICK in the SW corner…”) or verb (“I got NATICKED by 50A / 34D!”)

        [FYI, Natick is ten miles west of Boston, next to Wellesley.]

        And here are Rex’s beloved cats, Ida (white) and Alfie.

        For fun, I looked him up on Rate My Professors, to see what his students are saying about him. Here are a couple:

        There was no reason to go to class because he just rambled nonsense. I learned nothing. Avoid this class at all costs.

        I would say this is the worst class I’ve taken for the English requirement. Professor rambles and has zero empathy for anyone. Additionally, a serious ego problem. He really enjoys having more knowledge than his students. Avoid class at all costs.

        Ouch! But then there was this:

        FAVORITE PROFESSOR. I loved this class. So much. Quite a bit of reading, but it all ties together so well that I did not mind at all! Professor is also HILARIOUS and the only way I was ever going to wake up at 8am would be for laughs, so that was great! He’s accessible outside of class too.

        I check my reviews from time to time. My favorite of all time was: Prof. Liveson thinks he is very smart and funny, but really he is just a fat jerk.

        The puzzle today played with the expression DRAW CONCLUSIONS. Three theme answers used “draw” in the sense of art (drawing), and “conclusion” in the sense of end word. So we had CHARACTER “SKETCH,” CONTACT “TRACE,” and GOLDEN “DOODLE.” This adorable tune by The Bats, is called “No Trace.” Let’s play hide and seek!!

        Samantha Wood wrote this Tiny Love Story today. I think she puts her finger on what us grandfolks should be shooting for.

        Every Sunday, at 2 p.m. sharp, static sizzles from the beat-up, 10-year-old flip phone my grandpa won’t give up. Updates on his life in Oklahoma, my father’s health, my sister’s wedding plans, the old woman down the road whose dog digs up his yard. His lazy vowels loop together like cursive. He never says the words. But he’s stopped calling my girlfriend of five years my “friend.” He asks how I’m doing, sends old family photos by mail so I have a piece of them with me in Massachusetts. “You’ll always have a home here,” he says. “Remember that.”

        One of our favorites dropped in on the grid today, Amy POEHLER. She’s 53 (ouch) and is dating a former deputy editor of the NYT, Joel Lovell.

        I’m crying foul on 61A. I’m supposed to know “South Korea’s second-largest city” on a Monday? Second largest? It’s BUSAN. Easy Ed took the opportunity to give us a little lesson on it:

        For those of us who served in Korea in the days of yore, the answer was PUSAN, not BUSAN. The difference is in the anglicization of a relatively soft consonant in the Korean language that falls somewhere between an English “P” or “B” depending on various regional accents and the acuity of the listener’s ear. There are similar but more stressed or aspirated consonants in this family that are more frequently represented as “P.”

        OK — thanks, Easy Ed!

        Up for another “lesson?” At 43A yesterday, the clue was “Characters from Homer and Herodotus,” and the answer was ETAS, the Greek letter that appears in both names. OK, fair enough. But Michael Kavanaugh picked the following nit:

        While the capital eta does look like the letter H, neither name would begin with an eta when written in Greek. Well maybe Herodotus, but definitely not Homer. The h sound at the start of a word in Greek is created by a rough breathing, indicated by a c-shaped accent above the starting vowel. (A backwards-c-shaped accent would mean no h sound.)

        [God, I feel so ignorant. — Thanks, Mike!]

        One word yesterday that caught some attention was URNING. Nothing to do with “yearning.” The clue was “Storing, as some ashes.” You know, like to store in an urn — urning. Not convinced? Gary commented: My stepfather is currently URNING in a cardboard box in my storage unit waiting for us to travel to Istanbul. I’m planning on URNING in a plastic bag inside a cardboard box inside a dumpster.

        At 110D yesterday, “Vet’s concern” was PTSD. It led to this exchange. Anony Mous wrote: Anyone else bothered by 110 Down? Alas, we have enough PTSD in our society. Don’t need to see it in our crossword puzzles.

        But dgd countered: About PTSD
        Not in the least bothered by it being in the puzzle
        It is a disease caused by trauma
        PTSD is part of the human condition, and has existed since human beings existed (there is strong evidence that many other animals suffer from it).
        It is not some moral failing
        It can be difficult to treat and sometimes hard to identify. That is why the more public awareness the better. PTSD in the puzzle is a positive thing.

        If you notice (mostly) men unusually happy today, slapping one another on the back, high-fiving, etc., you are witnessing the joy we Jets fans feel at the end of the season. It’s the moment at which the torturer finally relents. It ended with a convincing if meaningless win over the fish (Miami) 32-20, which luckily only cost us one spot in draft positions. Amazingly, six teams finished worse than us.

        See you next year, girls!

        And we’ll see you tomorrow, Chatterheads!

      3. Jack In The Bag

        Today’s NYTXW beat me up pretty good, but I staggered out of the ring a winner. The constructor was Sam Ezersky who has bloodied me plenty in the past, so I was braced for at least a few hard blows. It was one of those solves that required me to put it down, tell my brain to keep working on it while I busied myself with something else, and go back to it later several times. But I found something neat in it that I shared with the Rexites. At 40A the clue was “Just ‘done’ with something,” and the answer was SO OVER IT. Then, the next across clue was “Development area” and the answer was UTERUS. So I posted:

        Having just come back from visiting my new grandson Harold (middle name Barney) in Michigan, I enjoyed the line in the puzzle that contained: SO OVER IT, UTERUS.

        One category of clue that made the puzzle hard for me was names of people I never heard of under my rock. E.g., “Second woman, after Kathryn Bigelow, to win a best director Oscar (2020).” Confession: throwing Kathryn Bigelow into the clue was no help. Some of you are going, How could he not have heard of CHLOE ZHOU? Well, I just didn’t is hou. At least I saw Nomadland, which was the film that won her the Oscar. Oh, here she is! Hi Clo! Georgie! — a couple of Diet Cokes for us please. Take a load off, girl. You’re lookin’ good.

        BTW, if you were wondering, Bigelow won hers for The Hurt Locker.

        Until I intuited the Z from ZHOU, I struggled with the long crossing down: “Ancient figure called the ‘huey tlatoani’ by his subjects.” WTF!! That’s a clue that looks like Zoey’s cat Emily walked over the keyboard during its creation: tlatoani? The answer was AZTEC EMPEROR.

        I liked how the answer for “Refuse to eat?” was SLOP. (See the wordplay? refuse = garbage.) Rex noted that SLOP was in the puzzle two days in a row, and asked: What kind of cafeteria is this?!

        Also learned that another term for MOB RULE is “ochlocracy.” Here’s how to use it in a sentence. The one time I tried (and failed) to teach a Hebrew Sunday School class in our temple, it turned into a study in ochlocracy.

        At 25D, “Iconic bit of media merch” was NPR TOTE BAG. It reminded me that the great Steve Post (alav hashalom) used to refer to the NPR journalist Nina Totenberg during fundraisers by saying donors would receive Nina Totenbags as thank you gifts.

        Hey, look who else popped by!! Annie, how’ve you been? It’s been months, amirite? George — make it three! You know Clo, right? Settle in. Anne came by the grid via the film She Came To Me, the 2023 rom-com, which, of all things, was used to clue the word SHE. (Annie was in the cast.) Exquisite, as always, Babe.

        Rule #1 of being a New Yorker is, of course, never establish eye contact. Why ask for trouble? So any contact with a stranger becomes a noteworthy event. As in this Met Diary story from tomorrow’s NYT by Brad Rothschild.

        Dear Diary:

        I was waiting in line to pick up a prescription at a crowded Duane Reade. An older woman who was clearly exhausted left the line to sit down in a nearby chair. When it was her turn to get her prescription, she stood up, left her belongings on the chair and went to the counter.

        While waiting for the pharmacist, she turned and looked at the man who was sitting next to where she had been.

        “You know what’s in that bag?” she asked, motioning toward her stuff.

        The man shook his head.

        “My husband Jack,” she said. “He died last week, and I have his remains in there.”

        [OC note: I’m guessing the Rx was not for Jack.]

        As I was flipping around the sports stations today, I came upon an ice hockey match. Nothing unusual there — the NYC region has three pro teams — more than you can shake a stick at — ha! But this game was between the NY Sirens and the Minny Frost of the PWHL — women’s pro ice hockey. There are six teams and this is the second season. There seemed to be a good crowd. The Sirens play in the Pru Center in Newark — now that I’m retired we’ll try to take in a game.

        As I was watching, Sarah Fillier scored a goal for us (NY). She’s the team’s leading scorer and was the first overall draft pick this season out of Princeton where she majored in Psych. She was spectacular on the ice in college and hasn’t skipped a beat transitioning to the pros. Yikes! A knockout too.

        The scene shifts to the bedroom where Sarah’s boyfriend, overcome with desire, spends 45 minutes trying to get 37 items of interlaced hockey gear off of her, and finally collapses on the floor weeping. (And you thought you had trouble with bras, guys?)

        I perused the Sirens roster. I’ll admit it, I was cruisin’ for Jewish names. (Jewsin?) And I scored! — so to speak. Abigail “Abbey” Levy, from Congers NY. Played college hockey for Boston College. Her Wikipedia page confirms that she is Jewish. It also states she’s a member of the LGBT community, not that there’s anything wrong with that. A goalie. Her dates have found it’s nearly impossible to get anything past her. Here’s a pretty sexy shot of Abbey (if you find the idea of a girl in an ice hockey uniform sexy — and who wouldn’t?).

        Did you hear about the minor league ice hockey goalie who let in twelve goals and caused his team to lose a crucial playoff game? He was so despondent that, on his way home, he threw himself in front of a bus. Luckily, it went through his legs. (Just one of those nights, eh, Marcel?)

        See you next time, Chatterheads. Thanks for popping in.