The Wellington Files

  • Blobfest

    I remember The Blob. It was 1958, so I was eight years old. I remember it started out blue and fairly small on a stick. But it turned red from the blood of its victims and grew enormous. Most of it was filmed in Phoenixville, PA, and the 25th annual Blobfest took place there on the weekend of July 12-14. How could I not have heard about these before? I really must be living under a rock.

    The festival centers around the Colonial Theater where a key scene in the movie features terrified moviegoers fleeing the theater into the street to get away from the blob. The “run out” is a highlight of the festival, recreated by attendees twice.

    Catherine Brodecki was a teenager when the Blob film crew came to town and she jumped at the chance to be an extra when she saw an ad in the local paper. You can see her fleeing the theater in the film. She’s 87 now and attended this year’s runout using a walker. Other highlights of the Blobfest include a showing of the film in the theater (voo den?), and a fire extinguisher parade. As you no doubt recall (I actually do), the only things that could stop the blob in the end were carbon dioxide fire extinguishers. Of course!

    Tired of the same old crappy wine and cheese parties? Jeez Louise — if I have to go to another one I’m going to shoot myself. Try something daring and different. Something bovine! Let us know how it goes!

    (Phil sent in that photo from Hopewell, NJ.)

    This poem from today’s Writer’s Almanac is by Theodore Deppe, and it’s called “The Russian Greatcoat.”

    While my children swim off the breakwater,
    while my wife sleeps beside me in the sun,
    I recall how you once said you knew
    a sure way to paradise or hell.
    Years ago, you stood on the Covington bridge,
    demanded I throw my coat into the Ohio—
    my five dollar “Russian greatcoat,”
    my “Dostoevsky coat,” with no explanations,
    simply because you asked.

    From that height, the man-sized coat fell
    in slow motion, floated briefly,
    one sinking arm bent at the elbow.
    At first, I evade the question when my wife asks
    as if just thinking of you were an act of betrayal.
    The cigarette I shared with you above the river.
    Our entrance into the city, your thin black coat
    around both our shoulders. Sometimes I can go
    weeks without remembering.

    Owl Chatter’s crack investigative team was the first to discover that the Trump shooter was not trying to assassinate him! Our sources reveal that the shooter, Thomas Crooks, was actually aiming at Trump’s ear and had no intention of killing the former president. As the truth makes its way into the mainstream media, remember you heard it here first.

    Shaun Phillips was the NYTXW constructor today and he had a great clue for NUDIE at 49D. I know where you mind is headed, but the clue was “Fashion designer Cohn with an eponymous rhinestone-encrusted suit.”

    Nuta Kotlyarenko was a Ukrainian-American tailor who designed decorative rhinestone-covered suits, known popularly as “Nudie Suits.” His professional name was Nudie Cohn.  Among his most famous creations was  Elvis’s $10,000 gold lamé suit worn by the singer on an album cover. Cohn’s customers included Elton John, John Lennon, Ronald Reagan, and Cher.

    And here’s a nudie of Taylor Swift’s:

    Special thanks to Owl Chatter friends, Judy, Pam and Norrie for their good wishes. And to Riverdale Joe. See you tomorrow!

  • Boo Hoo!

    `Z

    Hi everybody. We’re a little under the weather this week. May be skipping a few days. Believe me, you’ll live. Hope to see you soon!

  • True Scotsmen

    Barry Bridger, of the Dull Men’s Club (UK), writes: “I’ve never been in an Uber taxi, never been to a car boot sale, and I’ve never watched any of the Pirates of the Caribbean films.” [A car boot sale, I am guessing, is like a flea market in England, with crap sold out of people’s car trunks.]

    Megan David replied: “I’ve never watched Titanic. It seems almost disrespectful to.”

    Gareth Duckett: Spoiler alert — it sinks.

    Mark Ford: Just to bring you up to speed- £1.25 for steak, £2.20 for pineapple and ham, £1.65 for chicken. These are pie-rates of the Caribbean..😁

    James Rawlinson then asked (of Barry Bridger): Have you ever kissed a man? And Bridger replied: Not intentionally.

    In a separate post, Tom McMahon asks: Is sitting in the garden watching bats with a beer dull or just perfection?

    Keith Dilworth replied: What beer are the bats drinking?

    And Will Mee noted: There are way worse ways to spend a Friday evening. [But he didn’t specify, darn it.]

    Rex Parker is back from his vacation, and not a moment too soon. His guest bloggers were nice, but no one cuts up a grid like the man.

    The clue at 1A was “Bungee jumping might be seen on it.” The answer was BUCKET LIST. Here’s Rex:

     I floundered around the NW corner of this one like a total incompetent, though, to be fair, some of the clues were dumb (who has bungee jumping on their BUCKET LIST!? Is bungee jumping still a thing? Feels like an “extreme sport” from the ’90s—I wanted the answer to be ESPN … something—”Hey, you wanna watch bungee-jumping?” “No.” “Cool, I’ll just turn on ESPN X-TREME.” “I said ‘no.’”) (I think I also just hate the term BUCKET LIST, the way it sounds, the very idea of it … just do the things you want to do, you don’t need some mythical list, which almost certainly is not an actual “list” anyway). 

    [And get off my lawn!!]

    This Tiny Love Story from today’s NYT is so beautiful. It’s by Katrina Willis.

    Julie stood at the funeral home entrance, hugging my cousins as if she’d known them forever. In the span of three years, I’d lost my beloved mother, my only sister, my uncle, my cousin, my husband of 25 years, and my job. My past was shattered, but my future was safe in my new love’s gentle hands. Julie brought me water as I stood beside my sister’s coffin. “I’ve got you,” she whispered. I expect her to leave after so much sadness, but she stays. She is tiny and steadfast and true, and her love is bigger than the sun.

    In yesterday’s puzzle, at 16A, the clue was “___ Wood, portrayer of the Bond girl Plenty O’Toole in ‘Diamonds Are Forever.’” The answer was LANA. I had not heard of Lana Wood. Have you? She is the younger sister of the late Natalie Wood. She’s 78. Her parents came to the U.S. as child refugees from Russia. Her father’s family left Vladivostok after her grandfather, a chocolate-factory worker who joined the anti-Bolshevik civilian forces, was killed in a street fight in 1922. Don’t you hate when that happens?

    Wood has been married six times and had one child, who died in 2017, and has three grandchildren. Get this — between marriages, she dated Dean Stockwell, Adam West, Eddie Fisher, Warren Beatty, Sean Connery, Alain Delon and Ryan O’Neal, as well as talent agent Guy McElwaine, producer Jerome Hellman and composer Leslie Bricusse. In some bios of her, the writer found it easier to list the people she hasn’t married or dated.

    But, I ask you — what did all these men see in her?

    Rex opined that it’s time for the NYTXW to move away from “Bond girls of yore,” noting there are many Lanas to choose from. Then he shared this poem by Frank O’Hara called “Lana Turner Has Collapsed.”

    Lana Turner has collapsed!
    I was trotting along and suddenly
    it started raining and snowing
    and you said it was hailing
    but hailing hits you on the head
    hard so it was really snowing and
    raining and I was in such a hurry
    to meet you but the traffic
    was acting exactly like the sky
    and suddenly I see a headline
    LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED!
    there is no snow in Hollywood
    there is no rain in California
    I have been to lots of parties
    and acted perfectly disgraceful
    but I never actually collapsed
    oh Lana Turner we love you get up

    The theme of today’s puzzle was logical fallacies. Theme clues had statements about the puzzle that illustrated the various fallacies. For example, here’s the clue: Why was this chosen as today’s puzzle? Because it’s great! What makes it great? I mean, it was chosen for publication! And the answer was CIRCULAR REASONING.

    This one was new to me: All crossword fans love this puzzle; anyone who doesn’t love this puzzle can’t be a *real* crossword fan! The answer was NO TRUE SCOTSMAN. And here’s an explanation:

    Philosophy professor Bradley Dowden explains the fallacy as an “ad hoc rescue” of a refuted generalization attempt. [Wait. What?] The following is a simplified rendition of the fallacy:

    Person A: “No Scotsman puts sugar on his porridge.”
    Person B: “But my uncle Angus is a Scotsman and he puts sugar on his porridge.”
    Person A: “But no true Scotsman puts sugar on his porridge.”

    And did you know this one? What’s more, one of those friends won the lottery right after solving it — coincidence? I think not! The answer was POST HOC ERGO PROPTER HOC.

    The fallacy is based on the assumption that one thing caused another because it happened before the other thing. For example, “the dog barked right before the power went out, so the dog’s bark must have caused the power to go out.” 

    Woof, woof.

    My beautiful daughter Caitlin, who is a nurse who deals with this all the time, sent me the following:

    See you tomorrow! Thanks for dropping in.

  • Usha, Ismo; Ismo, Usha

    There was a lot of fun in the puzzle today. The LOVE POTION at 6D must have been potent. It was crossed at 13A by RARIN’ TO GO. At 53A, “Small time, as stakes” was PENNY ANTE, and it reminded me of my mom’s sister Penelope, whom we called Auntie Penny.

    At 43A HASSLED was “Gave a hard time.” egs noted it’s also on Santa’s business card: “HASSLED — Will travel.” But everyone’s favorite was at 10D. The clue was “What might prompt you to flip the bird?” And the answer was OVEN TIMER.

    I also liked 16A where “There are no words . . . ” turned out to be I CAN’T EVEN.

    At 35A, the clue was “Farmers business: Abbr.” and the answer was INS. Malaika, the guest blogger for Rex today confessed that it was a mystery to her and made no sense. And a lot of commenters explained about Farmer’s Insurance and all their TV ads. GG noted: “Farmer’s spent $98 million in advertising in 2020 including for the TV jingle that goes ‘We are Farmers dah da dah da dah dah dah.’ Apparently wasted on Malaika.”

    When we assigned Phil to cover Trump and the GOP convention, his response was “You’re kidding right? You expect me to stay sober for that?” But I assured him he could cover it drunk and that it was unlikely we’d use any of his shots anyway. But here’s Vance’s wife Usha.

    Usha graduated summa cum laude with a degree in history from Yale and then went to Yale Law School. She clerked for Roberts and Kavanaugh. Her parents immigrated from India. In the movie version of her husband’s book she was portrayed by the Indian actress Freida Pinto, below. I’m betting she did not complain.

    How she could marry that creep and have three kids with him is just one of life’s mysteries.

    I watched part of an old interview Bob Costas conducted with Hank Aaron and Willie Mays. Other celebs were in the audience. Billy Crystal was asked about his playing days and he said he tested positive for Maalox. Bob Gibson was chided as a “headhunter” by Mays, and Gibby explained that the outside portion of the plate belonged to the batter. But the area just off the inside portion of the plate was his. And occasionally he’d throw a pitch there and the batter, not knowing any better, “would hit himself with it.” Aaron said he once saw a batter hit in the neck by a pitch, and the pitch had been thrown so hard that the ball lodged in the batter’s neck. It had to be pried out and then you could see the imprint of the ball’s seams in the neck. (I didn’t know Aaron could be so funny.)

    When Aaron and Mays walked onto the stage, the audience gave them a prolonged standing ovation. Costas said he noticed that Gibson applauded but did not stand. “I’m not going to kowtow to those two,” he grumbled.

    Aaron was asked about the racism that accompanied his passing Ruth’s lifetime home run record. Was he worried something could happen as he rounded the bases for #715? He said he wasn’t worried about that particular event: two guys jumped out of the stands to run part of the way with him but he didn’t feel threatened. They patted him on the back.

    They were teenagers at the time, Britt Gaston and Cliff Courtenay. They did it sort of as a goof. They blame each other for the crazy idea now. They expected to go to jail and they were arrested and processed, but only fined $100 in part because Aaron interceded on their behalf. They were surprised security didn’t stop them. “All the guards were watching the home run,” they said. The only one to touch them on the field was Aaron, who gently elbowed them when they got close.

    Aaron said, “they are both doctors now.” Actually, Gaston became a successful businessman, Courtenay an optometrist. The three occasionally kept in touch and participated in charity reunions. They grew closer when Gaston was diagnosed with cancer. It’s amazing what can bring you together in life.

    They did not know how dangerous their stunt was. When the racist attacks on Aaron grew worse, the FBI assigned an undercover Atlanta cop to watch over him: Calvin Wardlow. He was seated with Aaron’s family and friends, with a gun at the ready. When the teens approached Aaron, he closed his grip around the gun and braced for action. Thankfully, he was able to see they meant him no harm and relaxed.

    In an interview in 2010, Aaron said he warned Wardlow before the game not to overreact. “I told him, ‘Now Calvin, you’ve got to be very careful when you pull that gun out on somebody. You know what to do, but so many times, these people are just having fun,’” Aaron recalled.  “And when these kids were running around the base path with me, he said he thought about what I’d said and he said he was so thankful that I did because it wasn’t nothing else but a bunch of kids having fun.”

    Long-time Owl Chatter readers may recall a period a while back in which the NYTXW seemed to toss an ASS into just about every day’s puzzle. One of Rex’s posters started keeping track of the various uses and formations the word assumed in the grid. Well, it reappeared today as part of LMAO (laughing my ass off, of course), and it inspired one of the commenters to share this funny Finnish comic with us. His name is Ismo.

    That’s as good-ass a closing as any. See you tomorrow!

  • Let’s See. Not Massachusetts.

    While you wait.

    There’s a sadness over a little corner of Crossworld today. One of the regular posters to Rex’s blog — Joe Dipinto — passed away last Friday. I hadn’t noticed that he hadn’t posted in a while; some others in the community discovered his passing. About two years ago I started reading the blog: Rex Parker does the NYT Crossword Puzzle, and it was part of what inspired me to start Owl Chatter. I’ve been to two tournaments and saw how neat the puzzle community is. Some of the posters to Rex’s blog just blew me away — you may recall Loren Muse Smith, aka LMS, who teaches disadvantaged kids down in NC. I miss her terribly. I stole Jeez Louise from her. And egsforbreakfast is one of my favorites now.

    Joe was a regular and his posts almost always added something worthwhile to the discussion. The outpouring of good feelings in the blog yesterday saying goodbye was beautiful. His passing was announced by long-time Rex poster Nancy who ended her note by saying: “I’ll miss him a lot. Strangely, I feel as though I’ve lost a real-life friend. I really do. I imagine that a great many of you will feel the same way.”

    Rest in peace, Joe.

    The poem in today’s Writer’s Almanac is by Ruth L. Scwartz and it’s title is also its first line:

    Poem 120: The Swan at Edgewater Park

    Isn’t one of your prissy richpeoples’ swans
    Wouldn’t be at home on some pristine pond
    Chooses the whole stinking shoreline, candy wrappers, condoms
    in its tidal fringe
    Prefers to curve its muscular, slightly grubby neck
    into the body of a Great Lake,
    Swilling whatever it is swans swill,
    Chardonnay of algae with bouquet of crud,
    While Clevelanders walk by saying Look
    at that big duck!
    Beauty isn’t the point here; of course
    the swan is beautiful,
    But not like Lorie at 16, when
    Everything was possible—no
    More like Lorie at 27
    Smoking away her days off in her dirty kitchen,
    Her kid with asthma watching TV,
    The boyfriend who doesn’t know yet she’s gonna
    Leave him, washing his car out back—and
    He’s a runty little guy, and drinks too much, and
    It’s not his kid anyway, but he loves her, he
    Really does, he loves them both—
    That’s the kind of swan this is.

    The NYT asked us today to name the two states that end in double letters. I got it, but it didn’t come so fast. The first one, yeah. But for the second, I ran the alphabet to get it. I’ll reveal them below.

    Terrell Davis, the great Hall of Fame running back for the two-time Super Bowl champion Broncos of the John Elway era, was on a United Airlines flight recently with his wife and kids. His son asked the flight attendant for some ice for his soda, but the attendant either did not hear or did not want to hear. Davis lightly tapped the attendant on the arm and politely asked for some ice for his son.

    The attendant — a guy, for chrissake — not even a woman — went ballistic, told Davis not to hit him, and fled to the cockpit. Davis was handcuffed in front of his family when the plane landed and the FBI investigated. In very short order, Davis’s version of the events was accepted, the attendant was suspended, and United apologized. “Not so fast, Mojambo,” says Davis and his lawyer. There’s going to be a little hell to pay.

    Davis only played for seven seasons (four full ones), but was so dominant during his time that he was voted into the Hall of Fame and is considered among the best running backs of all time. He is the Broncos all-time leading rusher and still holds the record for most postseason single-season TDs (eight), in 1997. He was the Super Bowl MVP and the league MVP in 1998.

    He’s married and has three kids.

    Oh, and yeah, when his kid asks for ice, give him some fucking ice.

    In case you didn’t get one, here’s the card they sent us last Christmas. Man, that’s a good-looking family.

    Tennessee and Hawaii. See you tomorrow!

  • I Am More Beautiful Than You and I Would Like to be Loved

    OK, she’s done now. Dead at 53. She was born in Memphis, of Irish and Native-American descent. The genes fell right into place. I remember her from Twin Peaks. Didn’t see her in much else. Married three times — never happily. No kids.

    I can’t come up with a photo that conveys how pretty she was. These are in the ballpark.

    Rest in peace Shannen.

    I’m not going to discuss the you-know-what that is the main news story of the day, other than to share a comment that was posted on Rex’s blog that football fans circa 1991 should understand. The poster said the shooter must have been a Buffalo Bills fan because the shot missed wide right.

    That’s Scott Norwood missing the kick that lost Super Bowl XXV for the Bills to the Giants. It lives in infamy, for sure, but life goes on. Norwood remained the Bills’ kicker for the following season. They returned to the Super Bowl and Norwood was perfect in the post-season, although the Bills lost the SB again, to Washington.

    Ever have a BOCA BURGER? They’re not bad. It was in the puzzle today, clued with “Barbecue option for a vegetarian.” It inspired me to compose this limerick.

    The Boca’s a very odd bird
    To try to emburger it: absurd
    It’s too hard to cook
    It says in this book
    And it tastes a bit rubbery, I’ve heard.

    It predates the more popular plant-based burgers out there today, but it never caught on. Maybe this nod in today’s NYTXW is just the boost it needs. Just kidding, of course — it doesn’t stand a chance.

    This poem is by Jackie Sabbagh. It’s called “Having a Great Time Being Transgender in America Lately.” Kudos to The Poetry Foundation for making it their poem of the day today.

    It is day infinity
    of everyone wanting me dead. People are having fun
    bringing lemon squares and automatic artillery to the anti-trans community meetings.
    Divorced legislators harangue
    about pedophile cults and surgeried infants and what ever happened to forever ago.
    I am more beautiful than you and I would like to be loved.
    I am getting concerned
    about the monomaniacs who make their entire lives about deadnaming and transvestigations:
    obviously it’s working but aren’t you exhausted, don’t you remember
    when someone loved you without knowing what you were?
    I am eating shortbread on a patio table overlooking the enormous green ocean.
    Somewhere an octopus is being eaten by an octopus and not panicking.
    Black dress to the floor, red acrylic nails, silver teardrop earrings, waterproof mascara.
    I am excited to do this for the rest of my life and be terrified.
    I hear a noise behind me and I don’t turn around.

    Gonna keep it short today — a little tired from schlepping into the city in the heat. Thanks for popping by. See you tomorrow!

  • Farewell Yidstock 2024

    Last night’s band was Gephilte (as in phish), led by Josh Dolgin aka Socalled. They came down from Ottawa and rocked the house, or, I guess, the book center. They are experimental and come at klezmer from the funk side, and other sides. Not all of their experiments worked, but it was a fun night overall — very energetic, for sure. Some Fiddler on the Roof tunes were played as if by a Motown band, stuff like that. Dolgin’s mom came down from Canada for the show. He said she’s turning 80 tomorrow, kinahora.

    We have one last show, today at noon, but then we have to start the drive back and will miss the finale tonight (boo!). Overall, we loved the festival and can definitely see making it an annual event. This was the 12th Yidstock. Long may it live and prosper!

    Speaking of “coming back,” the puzzle today was palindromes — expressions that read the same in both directions. The most famous, of course, was uttered by the very first man, to the first “first lady.” Madam, I’m Adam.

    The ones in the puzzle were much longer and a bit tortured. For the clue “Voice-activated order for cabbage or soda bread?” the answer was IRISH SIDE DISH, SIRI. See how it works? Read it in both directions. There were six like that. The prolific Jeff Chen was the constructor.

    I was discombobulated (you know, the opposite of combobulated) at 24D when the clue “Foe of the Bolsheviks” turned out to be CZAR. I knew it was the Czar, but the answer flouted a Crossworld convention. It was always TSAR in Russian history, and CZAR for, like, a modern “energy czar,” or “drug czar.” Jeff Chen casually tossed that overboard – so where does that leave us? Out to tsea, apparently. Is nothing tsacred?

    Other ‘dromes from the puzzle were “Humble postgame summary from an Indiana basketball player?” PACER’S SELFLESS RECAP.

    Headline regarding a children’s author controversy? SEUSS IGNITING ISSUES

    What happened when the bust went sideways? NARC, IN A PANIC, RAN.

    114D: “Skinny pieces of clothing:” TIES

    Phil! What are you doing!? Why is she looking at you like that?? We talked about this!! Just take the shot and back away!!

    Years ago, I was at an event at our temple and a very nice guy, Dennis, was wearing a beautiful tie. It had a dark blue background and little children were floating around in it, very colorfully. I said Dennis, that’s a very nice tie, and he looked down and said, “Oh, yes, this is my ‘Save the Children’ tie.” He explained that he made a $300 donation to the Save the Children Foundation and they thanked him with that beautiful tie. So I said, “Well, that’s very generous of you, and it is a gorgeous tie.”

    Less than one week later, we were down in Washington DC on a little family trip. On The Mall, where dozens of sellers are set up to hawk t-shirts, hats, and little Washington Monuments, one fellow had a table loaded with ties. Glancing at it, I noticed one similar to Dennis’s. There was the dark blue background with children floating around. The only difference was the children were larger.

    I asked the man: How much are these ties? He said $4. I said: This tie with the children costs $4? He said yes. So I bought it. And I call it my “Save the Money” tie.

    We are back home from Yidstock, sadly. It was such a good time. The last band, today at noon, turned out to be our favorite: Daniel Kahn (from Detroit!) with a violinist and drummer. Beautiful, funny, meaningful songs. My favorite may have been one he introduced by saying: “We have a song about the future on our first album. It’s bright — the children are happy; there are flowers and birds. This is not that song.” Then he sang (in Yiddish) a great and very dark Leonard Cohen song: I have seen the future: it’s murder.

    Here’s Daniel Kahn with some of his friends singing a Yiddish version of a song you know. Then Leonard Cohen sings in English his song about the future that Kahn sang for us in Yiddish. Kahn also performed a beautiful Springsteen song in Yiddish, about going back to his childhood home. I’m going to keep an eye on Kahn’s website and try to catch him again.

    Good night! See you tomorrow!

  • Let Me Tell You . . .

    The last two NYTXW puzzles had some great stuff in them. Today’s had a “stack” of three long answers one on top of the other: The actor MAHERSHALA ALI, a bowler’s SEVEN-TEN SPLIT, and the great clue/answer: “Fat chance” for LIKE HELL I WILL. Great constructing by Eli Cotham.

    He even tossed our Dirty Old Man Department a nod with “Company with a ‘Bra-llelujah!’ line” for SPANX. My tax student Imelda is modeling the “Bra-Vo” edition for us, below. Thanks, I-mel!

    At 20D, “Desire for a picnic” was NO RAIN, and it led Son Volt to post the clip from Woodstock in which the storm is coming that turned the concert into one large mud-wrestling contest and where the crowd starts chanting NO RAIN NO RAIN, to the delight of an amused (and unaccommodating) Mother Nature.

    At 20A, that N also helped spell NOLITA, which is the “N.Y.C. neighborhood in which the first pizzeria in the U.S. was opened (1905).” It’s short for North of Little Italy.

    For all of you rock aficionados, did you know “Twisted Sister’s genre” was HAIR METAL? That was new to me. It may be better known as glam metal. It’s a a subgenre of heavy metal that features pop-influenced hooks and guitar riffs, upbeat rock anthems, and slow power ballads. It borrows heavily from the fashion and image of 1970s glam rock. Maybe think of heavy metal fusing with David Bowie, alav hashalom.

    There are no sisters in Twisted Sister. You probably know their big hit “We Ain’t Gonna Take It.” They are the pride and joy of Ho-ho-kus, NJ, sort of, maybe.

    Yesterday’s puzzle started off brazenly with a ten-letter three-word stack, with terrific answers: SHORTBREAD, PAPER ROUTE, and CRAZY STRAW. Remember those?

    But the best part of Malaika Handa’s puzzle yesterday came at 55D. The clue was “‘Let me tell you . . . ” and the answer was GIRL. Best clue ever! Truly the mark of a sure-handed constructor.

    “What connects money with everything?” That was the clue at 11A, and I had no idea what the hell was going on. The federal reserve system? But it’s a four-letter answer. Turns out it’s a great clue for the otherwise boring answer ISN’T. It’s a reference to the saying “money isn’t everything.”

    Girl, you like Randy Rainbow? I hope I haven’t shared this here before. It’s one of my favorites.

    We set out this fine morning for a walk in the Mt. Tom State Reservation, but upon arriving we noticed there was a fee. At first glance it seemed like $5 for the vehicle. But, wait — that was for MA vehicles. For us Jersey folk it was going to cost $20 — just for a stroll in the woods! WTF!! Drove to Northampton instead and found Child’s Park, which was perfect. Look how pretty:

    A natural bench!

    After the walk and lunch, we drove to Amherst and watched the film Janet Planet in the tiny “studio theater” that is part of the Amherst Cinema — just 25 seats –almost every one taken. How intimate is the theater? The woman next to me got up to use the rest room at one point and we could all hear when she flushed.

    We liked the film! It’s about a single mom and her daughter, and, you know, life. Not easy to describe. Think of your typical action film — and then think of the exact opposite. It’s a film by Annie Baker who grew up right here in Amherst!! So we had to see it, amirite? Here’s Annie. Phil caught her at a serious moment.

    And here are the stars of the film: Julianne Nicholson and Zoe Ziegler:

    No Klezmer music until 8 tonight to respect the Sabbath. So I’m going to sign off now and report on the music tomorrow.

    Thanks for popping in!

  • Between the Shadow and the Soul

    When your first impulse upon waking up in the morning is to panic, it’s okay as long as it’s not about a family member. But food is a close second. So when, amazingly, I noted that I slept all the way to 8:57, the question of whether we missed breakfast was blaring. I remembered the very nice and professional gentleman at the front desk said it started on weekdays at 6:30, but I couldn’t recall if it ended at 9 or 9:30. Arrrrgh!

    “Linda! We have to hurry! We may have missed breakfast!” Had that been the case, I would have lived, but the recovery period would have been long and painful.

    The elevator took forever to get to the the fifth floor, but the notice inside informed me that breakfast ran until 9:30. Whew.

    It was a good breakfast, by hotel standards. (It would have fallen short in a diner by a bit.) Scrambled eggs and potatoes were decent, but the french toast “sticks” were not appealing and the sausage patties looked like something from the sponge or soap pad department. English muffins were fine but the toaster kept spitting them out too soon. I should have tinkered with the setting. That’s on me. But there was ample cream cheese, my topping of choice, and, get this: little containers of mashed avocados! Now that merits a plus in my book. That’s a classy move, especially after learning recently (as reported in OC) that there is a bit of an avocado crisis in the world. (Maybe it’s over?) Little fresh fruit cups received a nod from this reviewer as well.

    We are sticklers for strong coffee, bordering on the bitter. We make it that way at home and have come to expect hotel and diner coffee to be undrinkable. (Except in Galway, Ireland. The coffee in our Galway hotel was good. When we mentioned that, as a compliment, to our waiter, however, he made a face. Then he explained he was from Brazil, and it didn’t really compare to the coffee he was used to. Fair point.) Now, where was I?

    Oh, yeah. The coffee at the hotel in Holyoke came out of a brewing machine. You selected regular or decaf, cup size, and then pressed a button. Too bad there wasn’t a dark or strong option. But it earned a passing grade — it was drinkable. I’d give it a C — pretty good for hotel coffee. So that was a plus too.

    The breakfast staff was excellent. Very classy. Sexy uniforms too.

    The only drawback is the hotel is not in a great neighborhood. It’s the only place I’ve stayed where they ask for a photo ID, credit card, and dental records.

    In an email we just received from Newton Don, he told me his autocorrect changed klezmer to kleenex.

    Here’s Taylor singing “Fortnight.” It was in the puzzle today and was my downfall: “Rapper featured on Taylor Swift’s 2024 hit ‘Fortnight.’” The answer was POST MALONE and to my great shame I had not heard of him. It’s apparently the rap equivalent of not knowing what a logarithm is because Rex shared this (from wikipedia): Malone has gained distinction and acclaim for his blending of various genres including hip hop, pop, R&B, and rap. His stage name was derived from inputting his birth name into a rap name generator. Malone is among the best-selling music artists, with over 80 million records sold. His accolades include ten Billboard Music Awards, three American Music Awards, one MTV Video Music Award, and nine Grammy Award nominations. He holds several Billboard chart records: He is the first solo lead artist to top both the Rap Airplay and Adult Contemporary charts, while “Circles” set the record for longest climb to number one (41 weeks) on the Adult Contemporary chart by a solo artist. As of 2024, Malone holds the record for the artist with the most diamond-certified songs, with nine to his name.

    D’oh!

    Pablo Neruda’s poem “One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII” (translated by Mark Eisner) was The Poetry Foundation’s Poem of the Day today. Neruda was born on this date 120 years ago. Fasten the seatbelt of your heart.

    I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
    or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
    I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
    secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

    I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
    the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
    and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
    from the earth lives dimly in my body.

    I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
    I love you directly without problems or pride:
    I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
    except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
    so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
    so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

    David Sedaris joke:

    It’s night, and a cop stops a car a couple of priests are riding in.

    “I’m looking for two child molesters,” he tells them.

    The priests think for a moment. “We’ll do it!” they say.

    Now I don’t know what to believe. At 12:54, Anony Mouse posted: Quibbled with compost as “soil.” As any competent gardener knows, compost isn’t soil. It’s what you may add, to enrich soil.

    Then, at 5:32, SharonAK came back with: As an avid gardener for over 50 years, composting does result in soil.

    I checked with Miriam Webster who says compost is “a mixture that consists largely of decayed organic matter and is used for fertilizing and conditioning land.” So I think I’m with Ms. Mouse, above. It may eventually become soil, but it’s not soil until it is soil. Do you find as you get older you sound more and more like Yogi Berra?

    What a great day at the Klezfest! First Judy Bressler, the Aretha Franklin of Klezmer, accompanied by the great Hankus Netsky on piano. Sensational. She sang a Leonard Cohen song: “Dance Me to the End of Love.” (She’s singing it, below, with the Klezmer Conservatory Band.)

    Then a young trio (since their accordionist was ill) called Levyosn. One gorgeous song after another: a beautiful young woman as the lead vocal/guitar, and a violinist and cellist.

    Our hotel is closer to Northampton than Amherst, which is quite a mecca for restaurants. We had a sensational vegetarian/seafood dinner at Paul & Elizabeth’s. Super-fresh Cajun seafood dish over rice, plus a mountainous plate of tofu/veggie pan-fried noodles. We sat next to an enormous window overlooking the street. Great place.

    Long day. Tired. See you tomorrow.

  • The Klezmatics

    Ever wonder what it would be like to be a dog? Me neither. This poem is by Richard Shelton. It was in today’s Writer’s Almanac and is called “If I Were a Dog.”

    I would trot down this road sniffing
    on one side and then the other
    peeing a little here and there
    wherever I felt the urge
    having a good time what the hell
    saving some because it’s a long road

    but since I’m not a dog
    I walk straight down the road
    trying to get home before dark

    if I were a dog and I had a master
    who beat me I would run away
    and go hungry and sniff around
    until I found a master who loved me
    I could tell by his smell and I
    would lick his face so he knew

    or maybe it would be a woman
    I would protect her we could go
    everywhere together even down this
    dark road and I wouldn’t run from side
    to side sniffing I would always
    be protecting her and I would stop
    to pee only once in awhile

    sometimes in the afternoon we could
    go to the park and she would throw
    a stick I would bring it back to her

    each time I put the stick at her feet
    I would say this is my heart
    and she would say I will make it fly
    but you must bring it back to me
    I would always bring it back to her
    and to no other if I were a dog

    It was on this date in 1834 that Whistler’s mother gave birth to Whistler in Lowell MA: James Abbott McNeill Whistler. His famous painting, Whistler’s Mother, below, was not called that. Its title was Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1, but what are you going to do? — it’s a painting of his mother so people call it what it is. Her name was Anna Matilda McNeill Whistler. Get this — she was only a stand-in, or, I guess, a sit-in. The model Whistler arranged to sit for him failed to show up, so it was “Mom!! Help!!”

    When he was finished painting her, they switched places and she painted this portrait of him.

    (No she didn’t — that’s a self-portrait Whistler painted himself of himself himself.)

    In 1877, the critic John Ruskin wrote this about Whistler’s painting Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket: “I have seen, and heard, much of Cockney impudence before now; but never expected to hear a coxcomb ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face.”

    Whistler sued for libel. Here is Ruskin’s attorney Holker cross-examining the artist:

    Holker: “What is the subject of Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket?”

    Whistler: “It is a night piece and represents the fireworks at Cremorne Gardens.”

    Holker: “Not a view of Cremorne?”

    Whistler: “If it were A View of Cremorne it would certainly bring about nothing but disappointment on the part of the beholders. It is an artistic arrangement. That is why I call it a nocturne.“

    Holker: “Did it take you much time to paint the Nocturne in Black and Gold?  How soon did you knock it off?”

    Whistler: “Oh, I ‘knock one off’ possibly in a couple of days – one day to do the work and another to finish it …” [the painting measures 24 3/4 x 18 3/8 inches]

    Holker: “The labour of two days is that for which you ask two hundred guineas?”

    Whistler: “No, I ask it for the knowledge I have gained in the work of a lifetime.”

    Whistler won the case but was awarded only a farthing in damages. It may not have seemed much at the time, but adjusting for inflation and the exchange rate, it’s the equivalent of 800 billion dollars today, give or take a quarter.

    We’re broadcasting tonight from our luxurious suite in The D. Hotel in Holyoke MA, in reasonable proximity to Yidstock, the annual klezmer festival at the Yiddish Book Center in Amherst. Opening night featured the Klezmatics, the only klezmer band to win a Grammy, and they did not disappoint. The pre-show announcement was in Yiddish, followed by English. We were told to take note of the emergency exits but reassured that nothing bad will happen. We were also told not to video the performance. “We’ve put people in jail for far less,” they warned. Aaron Lansky whose brainchild the Center is, said there were many people to thank for organizing the festival — “It takes a shtetl.”

    I can’t do justice to how wonderful the show was. I’m sharing a song of the Klezmatics off of Youtube to give you a small sense of what klezmer sounds like, but they played a wide variety of songs, including three Woody Guthrie songs that were very appropriate to our time. The performance as a whole reminded me how important music is. How it is not only part of our identity, it shapes us.

    Enjoy the tune. We’ll report more on the rest of the festival in the coming days.

    Thanks for stopping in! See you soon.