The Wellington Files

  • Kansas in August

    A good constructor will view small words that might just be “fill” as an opportunity to craft a creative clue. That happened today at 23A. The answer was COB, and the clue was “Bit of detritus from a Thanksgiving meal.”

    It generated a good amount of blather, some of it from me. First, Rex questioned the connection of corn to Thanksgiving:

    “I couldn’t get COB [quickly] because I’ve never had corn on the COB for Thanksgiving in my life. I’ve seen COBs as Thanksgiving decorations, but the only vegetables I’m eating on Thanksgiving are potatoes and green beans. I’m not saying the green beans are traditional. I’m saying that’s what we’ve always eaten and I would spurn your corn as non-canonical.”

    I chimed in with an aside and then my two cents:

    My favorite use of the word “detritus” (from the clue for COB), was by the late Bart Giamatti in his 1977 essay “The Green Fields of the Mind.” He guides us through a half inning in the crucial final game of the season. His Red Sox are behind, of course, but mount a rally. This sentence comes after a ground ball finds its way through the infield for a single.

    “‘The aisles are jammed, the place is on its feet, the wrappers, the programs, the Coke cups and peanut shells, the detritus of an afternoon; the anxieties, the things that have to be done tomorrow, the regrets about yesterday, the accumulation of a summer: all forgotten, while hope, the anchor, bites and takes hold where a moment before it seemed we would be swept out with the tide. Rice is up.’
    ******
    “Wasn’t corn part of the first Thanksgiving dinner with the Indians and Pilgrims? Maybe that’s where the COB comes from.”

    [Before I go on about corn, I am thrilled to note that one of the Anony-mice said the Giamatti quote was “gorgeous” and thanked me!]

    Commenter Conrad said: “One of the joys of New Jersey is our corn. From midsummer to early fall we get some really wonderful corn at our farm stands. As a result we’ve become jaded and disdain all but July-to-September Jersey corn. At other times, no corn is good enough, so it’s never a Thanksgiving feature.”

    J. Alden pretty much resolved the issue with:

    “Written records from Plymouth colony report that the pilgrims planted 20 acres of ‘Indian Corn’ during their first year. ‘Indian Corn,’ the precursor to our modern corn, was a dry corn – not the sweet corn that we would eat right off the cob today. The practice was to remove the corn from the cob, grind it into cornmeal, boil it, and pound it into a mush – often served with molasses. So unless the pilgrims let the corn go unpicked, that corn mush would most certainly have been served at the harvest festival, and the cobs would have been the detritus.

    “Even today throughout New England (and, perhaps beyond) ‘Indian Pudding’ – the mush with molasses and, in a bow to modernity, some whipped cream on top – is served as a dessert in homes and restaurants – not uncommonly at Thanksgiving Dinner, as well!

    Ingredients

    4 cups whole milk
    1/2 cup yellow cornmeal
    1/2 cup molasses
    1/2 cup light-brown sugar
    2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) unsalted butter, softened
    2 large eggs, beaten
    1 teaspoon salt
    2 teaspoons sugar
    1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
    1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
    1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg

    Instructions

    1. Preheat oven to 300°F. Butter a 1½-quart casserole dish.
    2. Bring milk to a simmer in a double boiler over high heat.
    3. Slowly combine cornmeal to the milk. Cook for about 15 minutes, whisking frequently, until the cornmeal is smooth.
    4. Slowly add the molasses, then remove from heat. Add brown sugar, butter, eggs, salt, sugar, ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg, then stir until smooth.
    5. Pour the mixture into the greased casserole dish. Bake for 2 hours or until the pudding is firm and the top is browned.

    Whenever I send a recipe to Sam, I add on a final step: “Throw the resulting slop in the trash and go out for pizza.”

    My favorite clue/answer today was at 17A: “Partner who’s deep undercover?” Answer: BLANKET HOG.

    Are you a “lasagna hog?” Do you know why I ask? Because a commenter pointed out that I’M A LASAGNA HOG is a palindrome with GO HANG A SALAMI.

    Down south that’s a phrase you use when you’re upset with someone. You say “Go hang a salami,” and they typically respond “Go f*ck yourself.”

    55A was “Hand-held device discontinued in 2011,” and the answer was PALM PILOT. Egs chimed in with: I never felt the need for one of those PDA devices back in the day. When someone would ask me why, I’d say “God is my PALMPILOT.”

    I also thought at 59A, “Just keep doing what you’re doing” is a great clue for DON’T MIND ME.

    (One more!) And at 11D, “Misidentification in the DC Universe” is a great clue for IT’S A PLANE.

    Good puzzle, Evan Kalish!

    From the “Life in Texas” Department. In Brenham (TX) maybe they should have named the Department of Public Safety something else. Thirteen people were injured there today, and one died, when the driver of a stolen truck intentionally rammed it into the DPS building. The driver backed the truck up and was trying to ram building again, but that effort was thwarted by first responders. He had been denied a Commercial Drivers License there earlier. Officers speculated that he was miffed about that. Ya think?

    The first round in the battle of trans rights vs Nassau County went to the good guys. The County filed a pre-emptive lawsuit seeking to prevent the State from challenging its anti-trans policy. A federal judge held it lacked merit.

    “This decision is a tremendous victory for justice and the rule of law, but our work here is not done,” said Alexis Richards, a spokesperson for NYS AG James. “It’s past time for Nassau County to rescind this order and treat all our communities with the basic respect and dignity they deserve.”

    Dream on, Richards. Good start, though.

    We’ve never seen Phil this upset. He sent in shots of this beautiful young Korean pop star, Park Bo Ram, along with the terrible news that she is dead at age 30. What?!

    So far all we know is she was drinking with two friends and went off to the bathroom. When she didn’t return, they found her leaning over the sink, unconscious, in cardiac arrest. They called for help, but she’s gone. Park was about to release an album celebrating ten years in the profession. Very sad. You can see her appeal in this 30-second clip.

    We’ll let her pretty smile light our way out tonight. See you tomorrow!

  • Quieter Places

    As some of you know, I first met OJ Simpson at a prostate cancer survivor’s group: the LA Leakers, and we became pretty close friends. Of course, technically, he’s no longer a “survivor,” so he’s out of the group. Anyway, his kids asked Owl Chatter to let you know there’ll be a memorial service at Congregation Ohev Shalom, in Paramus, Sunday morning at 9:30, and the family will be sitting shiva at Cousin Bernie’s place in Bloomfield. (Bernie says he’s getting the cold cut platters from the kosher deli in Bergenfield so Aunt Estelle and her people don’t have to worry about going hungry, God forbid.) The family is asking mourners inclined to make donations to consider giving in OJ’s memory to the Hillel at USC. OJ remained active in the organization after college.

    Are you wild? Wind-in-your-hair wild? Never thought of myself in that way, but I can see the appeal. Anxieties of various stripes — mostly ridiculous, of course — hold me back. Today’s poem from The Writer’s Almanac is called “Wild” and it’s by Stephen Dunn.

    The year I owned a motorcycle and split the air
    in southern Spain, and could smell the oranges
    in the orange groves as I passed them
    outside of Seville, I understood
    I’d been riding too long in cars,
    probably even should get a horse,
    become a high-up, flesh-connected thing
    among the bulls and cows.
    My brand-new wife had a spirit
    that worried and excited me, a history
    of moving on. Wine from a spigot for pennies,
    langostinas and angulas, even the language
    felt dangerous in my mouth. Mornings,
    our icebox bereft of ice,
    I’d speed on my motorcycle to the iceman’s house,
    strap a big rectangular block
    to the extended seat where my wife often sat
    hot behind me, arms around my waist.
    In the streets the smell of olive oil,
    the noise of men torn between church
    and sex, their bodies taut, heretical.
    And the women, buttoned-up,
    or careless, full of public joy, a Jesus
    around their necks.
    Our neighbors showed us how to shut down
    in the afternoon,
    the stupidity of not respecting the sun.
    They forgave us who we were.
    Evenings we’d take turns with the Herald Tribune
    killing mosquitoes, our bedroom walls bloody
    in this country known for blood;
    we couldn’t kill enough.
    When the Levante, the big wind, came out of Africa
    with its sand and heat, disturbing things,
    it brought with it a lesson, unlearnable,
    of how far a certain wildness can go.
    Our money ran out. I sold the motorcycle.
    We moved without knowing it
    to take our quieter places in the world.

    Frank Bruni’s letter this week spoke about the Congressmembers who are retiring (fleeing). Some aren’t even waiting for their terms to be up. He writes:

    “Among them is Ken Buck, a Colorado Republican. ‘This place just keeps going downhill,’ he told reporters, ‘and I don’t need to spend my time here.’ You say that kind of thing about a rundown bar where there’s no eradicating the stench of spilled beer. He was talking about a broken-down institution that reeks of abandoned principles.”

    And here are some sentences by others he liked:

    Gary Shteyngart, on his time on the Icon of the Seas, billed as the biggest cruise ship ever, “The ship makes no sense, vertically or horizontally. It makes no sense on sea, or on land, or in outer space. It looks like a hodgepodge of domes and minarets, tubes and canopies, like Istanbul had it been designed by idiots.”

    Zak Klobucher marveled at one of Bruce Springsteen’s live performances: “He carped so much diem that when he called on the audience, ‘Can you feel the spirit?’ Robin Williams showed up to ask him to take it down a notch.”

    Last, my favorite, James Lileks described his attempt to use a snow blower as a slush blower: “I pushed it into the drift, and it was like trying to eat a thick, wet pillow with your dentures out.”

    When we were in Israel, Jan. 2020, our guide told us that both black and green olives come from the same olive tree. If you leave them on longer they blacken. I was reminded of that, and the trip, by the puzzle today at 18A: “Subjects in a series of van Gogh landscape paintings.” OLIVE TREES.

    Here’s what Rex was reminded of:

    I did not know Van Gogh painted OLIVE TREES. I know he painted CYPRESS TREES because I went to that exhibit at the Met last summer with my daughter, when my wife and I were in NYC for the Lollapuzzoola crossword tournament that we never made it to because we got called home on a bat emergency and then proceeded to have Bat Week at our house. Try waking up to a bat in your house multiple nights in a row, even after you’ve let it fly out of the house each night; finding it flying around your bedroom even though you shut the door, etc. etc. etc. ad infinitum ad astra ad nauseam. We got a bat guy who came to put these little one-way bat tunnels somewhere in our house that let the bats get out but not get back in. It was probably just the one bat. We never saw more than one. One was enough. Plenty. No more bats after the bat guy did his thing. Still, didn’t sleep right for weeks. Serious short-term PTSD. Anyway, that’s my Van Gogh story.

    You know those jokes – what do you get when you combine something with something? — chocolate that’s fluent in Yiddish!! or something like that. (If Tuesday Weld married Hal March the Third, she’d be Tuesday March the Third.)

    Well, there’s a real life combination we can check out which I learned about from a piece in the New Yorker on Maya Hawke. What do you get if you combine Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman? — Maya Hawke — they’re her parents. She dropped out of Julliard after a year to take a role in the miniseries Little Women and was wondering if she’s missing out on something by skipping college. So she hung out for a while with her brother Levon, a philosophy major at Brown, popping in on classes, etc. Decided she’s not missing much. Feels better now.

    Nice shot Philly.

    Well, it’s time to dip into the Owl Chatter mailbag and see if we can handle some Reader Requests. Doris M. from Wisconsin asks: “Can Owl Chatter teach me a magic trick I could use on my friends?” Well, Doris, Owl Chatter can’t, but we know a couple of geeky guys who sure can. And they were in the puzzle today at 5D: “Casino that houses the Penn & Teller Theater.” RIO. Pay close attention Doris.

    Last, we bid farewell, sadly, to Jerry Grote, All-Star catcher for the 1969 World Champion Mets: Tom Seaver’s catcher. He was born and died in Texas. He was 81.

    Never an offensive powerhouse, he made the All-Star team in ’68 and ’74 for his defensive prowess. He played for the Mets from 1966 thru 1977, is in the Mets Hall of Fame, and was considered one of the best catchers of his era. Johnny Bench said, “If Grote and I were on the same team, I’d be playing third base.”

    High praise also came from Lou Brock — one of the greatest base stealers of all time. “Grote’s quick out the box, has a powerful arm and always seemed to have a sixth sense about me stealing. He would have the ball waiting for me at second base long before I got there.”

    Although he was a Texan, as a baseball man he appreciated New York. “One of the advantages of playing for New York is that the big crowds at Shea Stadium help you tremendously,” he said. “They make you want to give 115 percent all the time. In Houston, nobody seems to applaud unless the hands on the scoreboard start to clap. Once those hands stop, so do all the others. Real enthusiasm.”

    Grote is survived by his third wife, Cheryl Grote, and her three children; three children with his first wife, Sharon Grote; six grandchildren; and three step-grandchildren, all of whom are standing on the mound, peering in, waiting for the sign.

    Rest in peace, Grote.

    Below, first, is a photo of Grote in the center, Seaver and Koosman to his right, and Yogi and Nolan Ryan to his left. It was 2009, the 40th anniversary of the Mets championship. Next is his autograph from my collection.

    See you tomorrow!

  • Runway 9

    Yesterday, the all-Republican all-the-time Arizona State Supreme Court restored the validity of Arizona’s 1864 anti-abortion law. Arizona did not become a state until 1912, but so what? Under the law, all physicians capable of performing abortions and all women of child-bearing age are to be taken out to the forest and shot.

    There. Finished.

    I was looking over the box score from last night’s Nats’ 5-3 win over the Giants, and noticed that the last two Giant pitchers were both listed as “T. Rogers.” Digging a little, I learned that one was Taylor Rogers and the other was Tyler Rogers. What are the odds? I dug a little deeper and learned they were both born in Littleton, CO. Yikes! Getting creepy. And they have the same birthday: 12/17/1990! It was at that point that I realized they are twins. Duh. Identical, no less.

    Late last season, in an article published on August 10, 2023, it was noted that Taylor had a 2.52 ERA, while Tyler was just two-hundredths of a point higher at 2.54. Taylor had 46 strikeouts compared to Tyler’s 45, and the brothers’ respective WHIPs (walks and hits per inning pitched), were a mere one-thousandth of a point apart — Taylor at 1.093 and Tyler at 1.094. 

    Overall, Taylor has had the stronger career, with 83 saves and a 3.17 ERA, but both are damn good pitchers. Phil took this nice shot of the brothers and assures me that that’s Taylor on the right. Or the left. No, the right, for sure.

    Wait — I didn’t get to the punchline yet. Before joining the Giants, Taylor pitched for the Twins. (Not kidding.)

    In the puzzle today, at 49A the clue was “Container in a kid’s backpack,” and the answer was PENCIL BOX. Here’s Rex:

    “I do have a question about PENCIL BOX, which is “Whose child?” and (follow-up) “What year is it?” Do kids’ backpacks still contain PENCIL BOXes!?!? If so, I couldn’t be more thrilled. I have several pencil boxes in my desk drawer here, I love them. Pencils rule. But I thought “kids” were moving away from writing by hand generally, and even if they are still writing by hand, the PENCIL BOX (as a kids’ school accessory) seems old-fashioned. Maybe it’s an art thing? Are they colored pencils? Anyway, that answer felt slightly dated. Not INK WELL dated, but … about halfway to INKWELL. I’m seeing kid-branded PENCIL BOXes online, so obviously kids still use them. I just wonder about what percentage actually have them in their backpacks on any given day.”

    Here are some responses from commenters:

    I have a third grader and he does, indeed, use pencils, though he carries them in a nylon bag and not a box. Pencils are still around, at least for my kid.

    My middle schooler has a pencil case, but sometimes he’s had a box – it depends on his whim at the start of the year when we’re buying supplies – and yes, he has to bring it every day.

    Yes my grandson also has a pencil box. During the pandemic, when schools reopened, the children were asked to bring in their own supplies so that they didn’t share germs. So I guess there was a pencil box Renaissance in a way. These days they’re back to sharing supplies since we know the more likely mode of transmission is through the air.

    NYC middle school teacher here, currently in year 27. Students absolutely use pencil cases in school. I’ve never heard the term pencil box before this crossword.

    And then I chimed in, with the following:

    I am surprised to see that Rex and several of the comments are completely missing the point on the PENCIL BOX (49A). The true pencil box is a box made out of pencils. Each side of the box is made by placing pencils of equal length one on top of the other until the desired box height is reached. Hold them in place as best as possible with your fingers. You’ll get better at this the more boxes you make.

    Next, slather them with a good, fast-drying liquid glue. When they seem securely glued in place, do your best to remove them from your fingers and try to separate your fingers from each other. Ideally, you will have someone available to drive you to the emergency room if necessary, as it is difficult to control a steering wheel with pencils glued to your fingers.

    Repeat four times, making sure the opposing box sides are equal in length and all four equal in height. When you have all of the sides completed, just use common sense to finish constructing the box.

    “Where runway 9 is always oriented at an airport.” The answer was EAST.

    Seriously? Every airport makes sure that runways 1-8 point elsewhere and they place #9 so it faces east? What about small airports that don’t have 9 runways? In other words, what the f*ck is going on? Did you know this?

    It turns out runway numbers at all airports have significance based on the direction they face, in relation to “magnetic north.” Point your compass straight north and spin around in a 360 degree circle. East would be at the 90 degree point, right? So you drop the zero and the runway facing that direction (East) is Runway 9. It might be a runway that planes can take off from in either direction. In that case, a plane heading West would be at 270 degrees, right? So drop the zero and that’s Runway 27. The same strip of runway would be both Runway 9 and Runway 27, depending on which direction the plane is heading. It could be identified as 9/27 if there’s no reference to a particular flight.

    So each runway at an airport is numbered based on the number of degrees from magnetic north, with the zero dropped.

    Gordon Lightfoot wrote the beautiful song, “Early Mornin’ Rain.” Dylan covers it, below. Listen to the lyrics, third verse:

    Out on runway number nine
    Big 707 set to go

    Here’s a note from the American Nitpickers Association & League (ANAL). At 17A, the clue was “Popular Italian entree, informally,” and the answer was CHICKEN PARM. A commenter going by the name A. Vespucci said…

    Chicken Parm Italian?

    Chicken Parm is an American dish developed in Italian immigrant neighborhoods in cities in northeastern US during the first part of the 20th century. While it certainly has “cousins” in Italian cuisine, it is a big stretch to call it Italian. Better cluing might have been “Popular Italian-American entree, informally.” Or “Popular entree in Italian-American restaurants, informally.”

    Geez Louise — gimme a break Vespucci! Close enough for crosswords.

    We’ll send you off drooling tonight. See you tomorrow!

  • Roughing It

    At 30D today the clue was “Brought nine possible outfits for a one-night stay,” and the answer was OVERPACKED. Egs muttered: Mrs. Egs would call “Nine outfits for a one-night stay” roughing it.

    Owl Chatter is taking the day off — maybe tomorrow too (it’s my long teaching day). But here’s today’s poem from The Writer’s Almanac. It’s by William Carlos Williams and is called “The Widow’s Lament in Springtime.”

    Sorrow is my own yard
    where the new grass
    flames as it has flamed
    often before but not
    with the cold fire
    that closes round me this year.
    Thirtyfive years
    I lived with my husband.
    The plumtree is white today
    with masses of flowers.
    Masses of flowers
    load the cherry branches
    and color some bushes
    yellow and some red
    but the grief in my heart
    is stronger than they
    for though they were my joy
    formerly, today I notice them
    and turn away forgetting.
    Today my son told me
    that in the meadows,
    at the edge of the heavy woods
    in the distance, he saw
    trees of white flowers.
    I feel that I would like
    to go there
    and fall into those flowers
    and sink into the marsh near them.

    Thanks for popping by!

  • The Moment Of Her Beauty

    My Tante Chaika (Aunt Clara) was the only one of my father’s four siblings to make it out of Russia with him and move to the U.S., with her hubby my Uncle Calman (Carl). Chaika was a bulldozer of a woman. In her later years she survived so many strokes and other physical setbacks that my mother, who was not very fond of her, once famously said “They’re going to have to shoot her.” She finally passed away, in her late 80s.

    She made knishes. The potato knishes and the kasha knishes were among my favorite foods when I was a little boy. One time we were over at Chaika’s for dinner and she served me a liver knish. I must have been around eight. I looked at it, pushed it around a little with my fork, and said “I don’t like it.” She said, “First take a taste — then tell me you don’t like it.” And I thought, what’s the point? I won that battle and the dreaded item was removed.

    Decades later, my family and I were dining at a deli in NY and I noticed liver knishes on the menu. I ordered one for us to share. It was delicious. I’m sorry, Tante Chaika — I wish I had tried yours.

    At 22D in the puzzle today: “Potato turnover in a Jewish deli.” Answer: KNISH. What a surprise to open that little door today and find Chaika there!

    We’re going to take a brief break from our usual nonsense (very brief, I promise) to honor the life and memory of Norman Miller, who passed away at the age of 99 in Manhattan on February 24th. Norman caught a big fish a long time ago, and he wasn’t even fishing.

    He was born Norbert Müller on June 2, 1924, in Tann in der Rhön, Germany, and moved with his family to Nuremberg in 1930. On Kristallnacht in November 1938, Nazis entered the family’s apartment and used axes to smash furniture, featherbeds, a cupboard with jars filled with jams and pickles, and musical instruments, including a piano and cello.

    They knew they had to get out of Germany, but they could only get papers for Norman — through the Kindertransport, the British rescue effort that brought some 10,000 children to safety. This was in late August 1939. Germany invaded Poland on Sept. 1, and the rest of the family never obtained visas to get out. Norman was 15.

    They were able to keep in touch through letters for two years. At one point, they sent him a family photo — they inserted Norman between his mom and sister so it looked like they were all together. He never saw them alive again.

    In 1944, when he was 20, he joined the British Army and changed his name to Norman Albert Miller. He was assigned to intelligence because he was fluent in German. On May 7, 1945, the day Germany surrendered to end the war in Europe, Norman was part of the Royal Welch Fusiliers regiment guarding a checkpoint in Hamburg. A brown Opel containing four men was stopped. They presented papers they claimed they were delivering to Field Marshall Montgomery. One of the fusiliers was a little suspicious so he brought the paperwork to Norman to assess. Norman realized “we have a big Nazi fish here.”

    It was Arthur Seyss-Inquart, who, as the Reich commissioner of the German-occupied Netherlands, was responsible for deporting thousands of Dutch Jews to concentration camps, and performed similar functions in Poland. Seyss-Inquart was arrested, tried in Nuremburg for war crimes, and executed on Oct. 16, 1946. The arrest brought Norman no satisfaction, he later said. “It didn’t bring my family back.”

    Shortly after the war ended he learned that his parents, sister, and maternal grandmother were taken to the Jungfernhof concentration camp in Riga, Latvia in late 1941. In March 1942, they were taken to a forest on the outskirts of Riga, shot to death, and buried in a mass grave.

    Norman and his son Steven traveled to Riga in 2013, and went to the forest where they filled three vials with soil from the killing fields: one for Norman and the others for his sons.

    At Norman’s burial in Paramus, N.J., the soil from his vial was poured onto the coffin after it was lowered into the grave. In his eulogy, Norman’s son said the purpose of sprinkling the coffin with the Riga soil was “so that they, who were torn from him and never had a proper burial of their own, can finally be prayed over and reunited and laid to rest with their son.”

    Norman is survived by his sons Steven and Michael, and two grandchildren, one of whom is named Suzanna, for his sister.

    Rest in peace, Fusilier Miller.

    “Don’t stare directly into it, but, right behind me, is that . . . ?”

    Remember that great song, TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART? It set the tone for today’s eclipse-themed puzzle. It was by Bonnie Tyler. The puzzle also featured MOONSHADOW by Cat Stevens, INTO THE NIGHT by Santana, and STARING AT THE SUN, by U2.

    Once upon a time I was falling in love
    Now I’m only falling apart.
    Nothing I can say.
    A total eclipse of the heart.

    Are you repenting, readers? Here’s egs on today’s theme:

    “It doesn’t seem right to have a TOTALECLIPSE-themed puzzle with no Marjorie Taylor Greene reference. In case you’ve just awoken from a week-long coma, she said, ‘God is sending America strong signs to tell us to repent. Earthquakes and eclipses and many more things to come. I pray that our country listens.’ On second thought, an entire MTG tribute puzzle could be real popular: earthquake, eclipse, Jewish space laser, Sandy Hook hoax. The themers just about write themselves.”

    But here’s what I wanna know — if I haven’t pented once, how can I re-pent? And before I pent, do I have to pre-pent? If I regret it, can I de-pent?

    Where is Marjorie when I need her?

    This poem is from today’s Writer’s Almanac. It’s called “Threepenny Opera” and it’s by George Bilgere.

    The elderly modern dance instructor
    And his elderly wife are dancing
    In top hats and tails, doing a Kurt Weill
    Number as old as their marriage.

    They’ve reached that age when the body
    Is starting to wonder how it got here,
    When it has become strange, even to itself,
    And moves around uncertainly
    As if looking for a lost pair of glasses.

    They do not mean for what they’re doing
    To be a parody, but, of course, it is;
    The word means something like
    “To sing alongside,” and it’s just
    Possible to see the lithe dark lovers
    They used to be, singing just beyond
    The penumbra of the spotlight.
    When they tap dance and set
    Their old skeletons clattering

    Across the stage, the teenage boy
    In front of me smiles and nudges his girlfriend
    Who has reached the moment
    Of her beauty that will keep everyone
    On the edge of their seats
    For the next two or three years.

    I posted my Knish story, above, as a comment on Rex’s blog and got this nice response from veteran Rex-ist Nancy:

    Liveprof — I enjoyed your liver knish story. It reminds me of what my father once said to me when I was very, very young and a picky eater. “Nancy, you are fully entitled to dislike any food you dislike. But you are not allowed to dislike it without tasting it first.”

    Dad was a real gourmet and eager to turn me into one too. At four or five, I looked like an exceedingly poor candidate. By age seven, I was well on my way. And my parents loved to tell the story of how, when I was 11, we were on a trip to Washington D.C with their closest friends and their friend’s 11-year-old daughter Kathy and how in a restaurant, when Kathy ordered just about the only thing she would eat back then, which was spaghetti and meatballs, I ordered shad roe.

    As Ogden Nash might have said:

    Liver knishes
    Are delicious.

    I thanked her and noted that that poem was by Ogden Knash.

    The answer at 1A today was HAIKU (“17-syllable Japanese poem”).

    There is a funny book by David Bader called “Haikus for Jews.” (According to my good friend Miriam Webster, the plural of haiku can be either haiku or haikus. I bet Bader chose the latter because it rhymes with Jews.)

    Here are some samples from it:

    Beyond Valium,
    the peace of knowing one’s child
    is an internist.

    Is one Nobel Prize
    so much to ask from a child
    after all I’ve done?

    Yom Kippur: Forgive
    me, God, for the Mercedes
    and all the lobsters.

    Congrats to a very nice (and very smart) young man: Paolo Pasco, winner of this year’s American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, held in Stamford CT over the weekend.

    Remember The Analogues? They’re going to send us off tonight with a special “eclipse” song. Just for you, little darlin’.

    See you tomorrow!

  • Lincoln County Road or Armageddon?

    Thanks for all the thrills, Caitlin and fellow Lady Hawkeyes. Good luck in the WNBA, young lady. Pop by Owl Chatter from time to time — always welcome.

    Who doesn’t have an embarrassing (or difficult) brother-in-law or two? With Linda having five sisters and me having one (aleha hashalom), I’ve majored in brothers-in-law. But I’ve got nothing on Taylor, who, if she marries Travis gains this one:

    That’s TK’s brother Jason, who recently retired from the NFL and was invited to a Wrestlemania event. Knock ’em dead, big fella! We love you!

    And speaking of Taylor, she popped into the puzzle today! — How you been Babe? Sup, Girl? We’ve missed you, esp Phil. Georgie!! — grab something from the fridge for Swift! Sit down sweetheart: take a load off.

    Tay was at 105A with the clue “2022 #1 hit for Taylor Swift.” ANTI-HERO. Let’s have a look and listen — it’s a great video with a funny dream sequence. Reminded me of the great dream in Fiddler in the Roof, or not at all. I can’t decide which.

    I should not be left to my own devices.
    They come with prices, and vices.
    I end up in crisis.

    You know the artist James Ensor? Belgian surrealist painter at 17D.

    The puzzle theme today gave Son Volt the opportunity to share a gorgeous, haunting Tom Waits song with us, below. The puzzle is by Tracy Gray and is called “Double Duty.” For the theme answers, sets of double letters were turned into words. So, at 23A, “Song performed three times in ‘The Wiz’” was EE ON DOWN THE ROAD. (EE = ease. Get it?) The others were CC THE MOMENT (Seize), UU IT OR LOSE IT (Use), A WORD TO THE YY (Wise), BLACK-EYED PP (Peas), AND A SIGHT FOR SORE II (Eyes). That last one opened the door to this song:

    Half drunk all the time; and all drunk the rest.

    Egsforbreakfast added this note: GG Louise. I thought this was some unique fun. I don’t mean to be a TT, but what LL could I even compare it to? I think Lewis OO us some research on this. You can rest assured that he won’t be an RR about it (as they say in London, Ontario). Anyway, all’s well that NN well, and to HH own.

    At 54A the clue was “Mérida mister,” and the answer was SENOR. I don’t think I appreciated this song enough before. Son Volt shared the Willie Nelson version, but after a few verses, I went back to Dylan’s. It’s great, but then I found this. It’s by Diva de Lai and it blew my socks off. Turn it up. And hold on to your socks.

    Boatload of music today, but I can’t help what the little doors in the puzzle open up to. Up for some fashion next?

    At 122A, “Fashion designer Pucci” was EMILIO. Don’t go by me, but his stuff doesn’t grab me. Here’s one. Where is she supposed to wear this — dinner? the theater? Can anyone explain fashion to me — like I’m a three-year old? (Denzel)

    Follow-up note: So I posted a comment addressed to Son Volt about Senor, asking if he heard the version by Diva de Lai, above. He responded: “Liveprof [that’s me] – that’s a fantastic version and one I’ve read Dylan really likes. I love the mariachi inspired Willie [Nelson] take but my favorite remains when I saw the JGB do it live – ‘91 in Providence.” [JGB is the Jerry Garcia Band. There are some JGB versions on Youtube. I’ll check them out.]

    It’s odd when an answer that seems a gimme to you, wreaks havoc widely elsewhere. At 43A today “Apple variety whose name sounds like part of a flower,” came to me easily as STAYMAN. Yet Rex struggled with it and many others said they crashed on that shore. Apparently, it’s only available regionally. It was developed by Joseph Stayman in Leavenworth KS (not in the prison) back in 1866. Sometimes called a Stayman Winesap, its flesh is tart and spicy.

    Yup — they’re gorgeous. Taylor — try one of these! They’re Staymans.

    Can’t beat apples for a send-off. See you tomorrow!

  • Net Loss

    Morning, troupe. We’re classing up the joint today, with a Donne sonnet, put to music by John Adams. It’s Holy Sonnet X, below.

    Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you
    As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
    That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
    Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
    I, like an usurp’d town to another due,
    Labor to admit you, but oh, to no end;
    Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
    But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
    Yet dearly I love you, and would be lov’d fain,
    But am betroth’d unto your enemy;
    Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
    Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
    Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
    Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

    It all comes out of Crossworld, where the clue at 12D today was “‘Death Be Not Proud,’ for one.” The answer was SONNET, but Rex shared this other one by Donne with us, and commenter Blex shared the Adams work that contains it. If you like John Adams, sit back and enjoy. If he’s new to you, give him a little time.

    The following snippets are stolen from a Cliffnotes sort of site:

    “John Donne wrote the series of poems called the Holy Sonnets during a period of religious conversion from Catholicism to Anglicanism. In this particular poem, the speaker has lost touch with God altogether and prays desperately for God to return. Furthermore, the speaker believes that faith can only return through forceful means: God has to force his way back into the speaker’s heart. The poem, then, is at once a witty and an achingly open portrait of a soul desperate to overcome the torment of religious doubt.

    “The speaker makes a bold comparison between faith in God and erotic love.”

    I posted the following as a comment on Rex’s blog:

    I heard Adams once explaining how he chose music as his life’s work. He was a kid in a terrible community band — you could barely make out what song they were trying to bang out when they played. And they volunteered to play in a local mental hospital once. They set up in the common room and the patients were brought in. Most were staring into space, or walking around in circles, or muttering nonsense to themselves. Every one in his or her own space, far away. But when the band began playing, they all turned and walked towards it, and focused on the music with wonder and appreciation. Adams said he realized at that moment the power of music, and how deeply it can connect to people.

    Today’s puzzle was a good old-fashioned really tough Saturday workout. Very satisfying to finish it in one piece. The constructor was Byron Walden. It’s so rare for Rex to gush over a puzzle. Here’s how he gushes:

    “Always comforting to see Byron’s name on the byline. That may seem an odd thing to say about someone whose puzzles tend toward the ruthlessly hard and sadistically playful, but the comfort comes in knowing that the struggle is going to be worth it. I know the puzzle is going to throw fastballs at my head over and over, open trap doors, release the dogs, or the bees, or the dogs with bees in their mouths and when they bark they shoot bees at you. It’s gonna be an ordeal, but you’re gonna like having been ordealed. Today was no exception—a properly Saturday Saturday that had me going “huh? … Huh? … D’oh!” over and over.”

    For the clue at 8D: “Pictures where people are headscarfed?,” I had it ending in —BIEMOVIES and just kept thinking of Arab stuff with the head scarves. Finally the crossing word gave me a Z to start off with. So it was ZOMBIE MOVIES! It’s “scarf” in the sense of “eat” (to scarf down). And zombies eat your brains (heads) so there’s “headscarfing.” Hard, right?

    And at 3D the clue was “Cinderella’s calling card.” I kept thinking things like shoe size or pumpkins, but it was not that Cinderella. It was a Cinderella team in the basketball tournament, and the answer was BIG UPSET. Whew.

    Even a little word like ARC was a challenge. The clue for it was AZIMUTH. If I had to guess, I would have said Azimuth was a god of some sort. D’oh!

    Loved this clue/answer as a tax prof: “Dodgers foes’, for short.” Ans: IRS. (Get it? Tax dodgers.)

    At 53A, “Cold weather outerwear” was ANORAK. Did you know that word has a secondary meaning: a studious or obsessive person with unfashionable and largely solitary interests. The word comes from Greenlandic. I didn’t even know there was such a language.

    Here’s one:

    Do you know your Russian history? Or maybe your bartending? At 7A the clue was “White Russians, e.g.,” and the answer was CZARISTS. (That’s the Z I needed for the ZOMBIE MOVIES.) Commenter Andrew wondered if someone was drunk because his comments were so mean, and he phrased it by asking if he “downed too many Czarists last night.”

    40D was the type of clue you’d never get unless you’ve done puzzles for a long time. The clue was “Black heart?” It’s referring to the letters in the word B-L-A-C-K. The “heart” of the word is the central letter: A. And its pronunciation makes it a SHORT A. That was the answer: SHORTA. (I got it with help from a few crosses.)

    Egs posted: After my third White Russian last night, Mrs. Egs asked, “Egs, are you drunk?” “SHORTA” I replied.

    Phil refused to identify where this shot came from. It’s either from Night of the Living Dead, or it’s my tax class after the midterm. Hard to tell.

    Owl Chatter’s outing to Brooklyn for the Pistons/Nets game was a smashing success. Slight concern that we lost touch with Phil and George midway through the second period and came back to Jersey without them. But they’re both grown men (except maybe Georgie) so they’re probably okay. I found George’s wallet under his seat with $1,200 in it and his Botox Rx.

    ??

    The Barclay Center is great and our seats were good. The Pistons looked terrific for most of the game until they suddenly lost by ten points. Big disappointment: No Cade Cunningham. Boo hoo. He might have made a difference. No Duren either. Ivey, Sasser, and Metu all looked terrific. I think they’ll be decent next year. Would definitely return to see them in Brooklyn again.

    Good night everybody. See you tomorrow!

  • Cat Poses

    What do Bobo Holloman and Tyler Gilbert have in common? Well, both were major league pitchers. Gilbert is still only 30 and is in the Cincy minor league system. He played college ball at USC and was with ‘Zona when he was in the majors. Bobo died in 1987 at the age of 64. He had a good minor league career and finally made it up to the Bigs in 1953 with St. Louis — the Browns back then. His MLB lifetime stats are pretty unimpressive: 3-7 with an ERA of 5.23. He got his nickname from a minor league owner whom he reminded of Bobo Newsome, a great pitcher who won over 200 games. Gilbert hasn’t lit the sport on fire either (yet) with a lifetime record of 2-7 and an ERA of 4.32.

    What they have in common is they are the only MLB pitchers in the modern era (since 1900) to pitch no-hitters in their first starts. Bobo’s was on May 6, 1953 against the Philly Athletics in Sportsman Park in St. Louis. It was a rainy night and only 2,473 fans were there. Holloman struck out three batters and had two hits himself. The score was 6-0. Browns owner Bill Veeck said Holloman was hit pretty hard all night and was saved by great defense and good luck. Ouch! Still, history was made.

    Gilbert pitched his no-no more than 68 years later, on August 14, 2021 in Chase Field in Phoenix. ‘Zona beat San Diego 7-0. He struck out five and walked three.

    I love little baseball stories like those and when I can incorporate them into my autograph collection, I do. I picked up the following items, see below. About $18 for Bobo and just a couple of bucks for Gilbert.

    Life is tough enough without having to worry about being run down by a giant bratwurst, amirite? Minny’s excellent outfielder Byron Buxton stepped out of the dugout recently, little realizing how close he came to being pancaked by a sausage.

    If you are wondering why giant sausages are racing around the baseball field during a game — that’s a fair question. Many stadiums run theme races like this in between innings to amuse and delight kids in the crowd. Well, actually almost everyone loves them.

    The sausage race is in Milwaukee, famous for beer and brats, of course. The Nats (in DC) have a “Presidents” race. The Yankees have three subway lines race, but that just takes place on the scoreboard — nobody dresses up in a subway costume. Oakland has huge-headed likenesses of Hall of Famers Dennis Eckersley, Rollie Fingers, and Rickey Henderson racing. Rickey was in attendance at a game where his giant head won the race. He cheered his Rickey on over the PA system and then exclaimed: “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, Motherf*cker!” (No he didn’t.)

    Sticking with baseball a bit longer — here’s a story that really stinks. Shohei Ohtani hit his first home run as a Dodger. Good for him. The ball was caught by a woman named Ambar Roman, a life-long (till now) Dodger fan at the game with her hubby. She is the owner of the ball and can go home with it. But if, like this one, it has significance for the team or the player, they negotiate for it with the fan. And that’s where things got icky.

    According to the couple, Ambar was escorted away by security and kept separated from her husband. The Dodgers then pressured her to give up the ball for a few signed items. An auction house estimated the ball’s value at $100,000. The Dodgers told her if she took it home, they’d refuse to authenticate it, which would have a major effect on its valuation.

    Here’s what her husband Alexis said:

    “They really took advantage of her. There were a bunch of (security) guys around her. They wouldn’t let me talk to her or give her any advice. There was no way for us to leave. They had her pretty much cornered in the back.”

    To add a weird twist to it, Ohtani later said he talked to the fans who had the ball. But they say they never met him.

    The Dodgers are “open to a further conversation.” Yup. There’ll be a lawyer at this one.

    Philly! Our readers would like to see Ambar — you able to catch a shot of her? Maybe with the ball? Nice work!

    You know that business of checking a box saying you are not a robot? Some commenters on Rex’s blog have to do that. Today, B$ asked: “How does checking a box “prove” that I’m not a robot? Maybe I’m just a super smart robot who knows I need to check a box.”

    Teleiotis explained:

    It’s actually kinda interesting but also kinda creepy — it’s a non-standard checkbox that’s not only more difficult for a spammer to check in the first place (you can’t just send a simple command to mark it “checked” but actually have to go through the process with a cursor), but it also tracks the exact timing of all your mouse movements of when and how you click it.

    So if it gets clicked as soon as the page loads without any mouse movement? Robot. If there’s a bunch of mouse movements but it’s pixel-perfect identical to a previously submitted form? Robot. If it’s a bunch of mathematically random movement? Robot. And so forth.

    Whereas if the person has been gradually scrolling the page, and moves the cursor in regular “human” ways that don’t precisely match anybody else’s pixel-for-pixel and otherwise don’t give away common signs of being simulated, then: not a robot.

    The puzzle today was by Rachel Goldstein — one of the best constructors. It was a challenge and I’m proud that I finished it.

    “[blank] Mundi” was ANNO and it means “the year of the world.” It’s a calendar era based on when the world was created, according to the Bible. Thus, the Hebrew year this year is 5784. And the Byzantine year is 7532.

    Had you heard of this? At 30A: “Dance party where participants wear wireless headphones.” ANS: SILENT DISCO. I can picture it. Neat. egsforbreakfast, hysterical as usual, said: “I hadn’t heard of SILENTDISCO, but I’m a big fan of Silent Arena Rock, where the bands wear headsets and the audience hears nothing.”

    61A was “[blank] ceremony, tradition in Sephardic weddings” and the answer was HENNA. It takes place several days before the wedding. The happy couple has henna applied to their palms. It stays on for a few days, so they can be identified as the marrying couple at the wedding. It stems from the biblical tale of Jacob being tricked into marrying the wrong sister (Leah, instead of Rachel). The workmanship can be gorgeous. [The Bible says that when Jacob found out whom he married, he said: D’oh! — It’s the first recorded use of the expression.]

    If I am not mistaken, Owl Chatter friend Vermont Liz’s daughter Bridget is a henna artist, among her many pursuits. That right, Liz?

    Speaking of Jacob, the clue at 30A was “Nickname alternative to Coby, perhaps,” and the answer was JAKE. I guess someone named Jacob could be nicknamed Coby or Jake?

    At 4D, “They bring up the rear” was CABOOSES. Someone thought the answer should be “cat poses.”

    The longest train I ever saw
    Went down that Georgia line
    The engine passed at six o’clock
    CABOOSE went by at nine.

    That’s from a Loretta Lynn song called “In the Pines.” You don’t want to hear it, believe me.

    At 58A for the clue “Helter-skelter” the answer was IN DISARRAY. Here’s egs again:

    Welcome to today’s lecture on complex operations on multiple arrays. INDISARRAY, we have the set of all prime numbers. INDatARRAY, we have the set of all whole numbers. When we subtract the one from the other, we get only the numbers which are no longer in their prime! [Ba da boom!]

    Congressman Clay Higgins of Louisiana is the Chair of the House Homeland Security Subcommittee on Border Enforcement. Serious stuff. It’s good to get to know our reps a little, so it’s good that he engaged in a lengthy interview in a podcast this week. He revealed that he conducted “his own extensive investigation” and has evidence that the entire Jan. 6 insurrection was instigated by FBI agents planted in pro-Trump groups. (Speaking of groups, during the interview Higgins was wearing a shirt with the logo of the Three Percenters, a right-wing anti-government militia.) He claimed Federal agents posing as Trump supporters traveled to DC on 1/6 to trick real Trump backers to engage in mob violence.

    On Biden’s election, which was fraudulent, of course, he said it was “very suspicious” that while votes were being counted Biden overtook Trump in certain key states. My God, man — what more proof do you need??

    His claims of “ghost buses” that were clearly engaged in nefarious anti-Trump actions came from a whistleblower who said he saw “two white tour buses” at Union Station early in the morning of 1/6, which later disappeared. “We don’t know what happened to them,” Higgins said.

    Open your eyes, readers! — how much more proof do you need?? The tour buses just disappeared!!

    The Congressman is clearly an idiot of the highest order. It’s actually impressive. He was divorced from three wives and is currently married to his fourth. The second sued him for $140,000 of unpaid child support. He was a cop before coming to Congress and was accused of using too much force.

    We asked Phil to get us some shots of the Congressman for this story, but he just told us to “kiss his hasselblad.” We didn’t push.

    See you tomorrow. Go Hawkeyes!

  • Salute to Gov. Tony Evers (D-Wisc)

    It’s not just the fact that Wisconsin’s Democratic Governor Tony Evers vetoed his state’s hate-driven anti-trans legislation that earns him an Owl Chatter salute, it’s the language he used to accompany his principled act. (The bill would force trans kids to deny their gender identity when playing sports.)

    “This type of legislation, and the harmful rhetoric beget by pursuing it, harms LGBTQ Wisconsinites’ and kids’ mental health, emboldens anti-LGBTQ harassment, bullying, and violence, and threatens the safety and dignity of LGBTQ Wisconsinites, especially our LGBTQ kids,” Evers said in his veto message.

    “I will veto any bill that makes Wisconsin a less safe, less inclusive, and less welcoming place for LGBTQ people and kids, and I will continue to keep my promise of using every power available to me to defend them, protect their rights, and keep them safe.”

    You tell ’em Gov!

    I’m going to go out on a limb here, and guess he’s also in favor of legalizing marijuana. (Did I already write that? Georgie — where are the chips??)

    Evers is married to a high school girl. No, wait. My mistake. He’s married to his high school sweetheart, Kathy. They have three kids and nine grandkids. He’s 72. He’s a cancer surviver — he had surgery for cancer of the esophagus in 2008.

    At 20A yesterday the clue was “Stately country homes,” and the answer was CHATEAUS. Anony-mouse was upset enough to post at 5:46 AM: “The plural of chateau is chateaux. Always.”

    Hrummmmmmph!

    Commenter Bob M agreed on chateaux being correct, but Peter P chimed in as follows:

    In French it’s chateaux. In English it can be either chateaus or chateaux. Look in any decent dictionary. (Merriam-Webster, in fact, lists “chateaus” first.) And don’t get me started with how many “incorrect” plurals we have from borrowed languages (or “incorrect” singulars that are actually plurals in the language they’re borrowed from.) When words cross languages and are adopted, they often take on the rules of the adopting language. This is not unique to English.

    But egs had the last word:

    Those who are insisting that CHATEAUx is the correct plural are speaking from higher plateaux than the rest of us. They’ll probably report us to one of the Usage Bureaux.

    Kimberly Dragoo — how do you do? Kim and her idiot husband Steven participated in Trump’s Jan. 6 riot at the U.S. Capitol and pled guilty to a misdemeanor as a result. Steven took a lot of pics, including this one of Kim climbing through a broken window. Looking good, Kimmy!

    Like dozens of rioters, she later ran for office — in her case for a seat on a Board of Education in Missouri. She lost. We’re guessing it was rigged.

    Several clues in today’s puzzle were amusing. For the clue “Certain soccer kick,” the answer was TOE POKE. Rex advised: “Do not order the TOE POKE bowl, the toes really overwhelm the tuna.”

    For the clue “Nancy in the Grammy Hall of Fame” the answer was SINATRA. One comment dissed her, asking why she was in the HOF and noting she never won a grammy. But Mike in Bed Stuy pointed out that “These Boots Are Made for Walkin (1966) is absolutely iconic.” I added that she was voted in after her dad left a horse’s head in the Committee Chair’s bed.

    You keep lyin’ when you shoulda been truthin’

    Nancy’s a Jersey girl (born in Jersey City) and is 83 now, kinehora. She has come out publicly against Trump, and Owl Chatter was happy to see her politics are progressive. She did a nude spread in Playboy at age 54. She was nervous about how her dad would react, so she met with him before agreeing to do it. Frank was okay with it, but insisted Hefner pay her twice what he was offering. He agreed.

    She was married twice and has two daughters. Between marriages she was engaged to producer Jack Haley, Jr., who later married Liza Minelli. Nancy also dated Michael Caine and Phil Spector.

    Speaking of Phil — you got anything on NS for us, Philly?

    Here’s Nancy in her 70s with her mom, who was also named Nancy, and who was Frank Sinatra’s first wife. She died in 2018 at age 101.

    At 22A, “Having muscle pain” was MYALGIC.

    Bumper stickers we’re not likely to see:

    MYALGIC can beat up your algic.

    MYALGIC can beat up your honor student.

    You a hockey fan? Me neither. Once in a while I’ll get slightly interested. I rooted for Carl Hagelin, a terrific player in the NHL who played college hockey at UMich. He’s from Sweden, btw, and not too bad-looking. Here he is with his wife Erica. I know — what the hell does he see in her, right? They have two kids.

    Anyway, I mention hockey because of last night’s Rangers-Devils match. Usually, when a fight erupts it’s from annoying stuff that builds up over the course of the game. Or maybe in reaction to a particularly dirty play. Or something else — some other reason. But look at this clip from last night. This is the start of the game! The puck was dropped and the gloves came off in less than two seconds. There wasn’t even enough time to hurl a “yo mama.” What gives with these guys? Needless to say, there was some history. Some “bad blood” between some folks, as Taylor would say.

    The theme of the puzzle today was MARTINI, down there at 57A. The grid included a martini glass, outlined by black squares, coming up from the bottom in the center. The word OLIVE is in the glass, and VERMOUTH and ICE CUBES are pouring down into it.

    Anony-mouse quoted Dorothy Parker: “I love a martini….one at most….two I’m under the table…… three I’m under my host.”

    If you’re interested in the topic (I’m not), John K shared the following:

    There are many opinions of the proper martini proportions: 2-to-one, 3-to-one, 5-to-one, etc. But there is only one liquor in a Martini. That is GIN. Ian Fleming was a good writer, but didn’t understand the martini. A martini should not be shaken with ice. That forms bubbles, which destroy the pristine clarity of the drink. It should be gently stirred in ice cubes (not crushed ice) until is is nicely chilled. And there is no “vodka martini.” I was talking with Ro, one of my favorite bartenders, some years back when a guy came up and ordered one. Ro told him, “Martinis are made with gin. You must want a cocktail made with vodka and vermouth, right?”

    My martini is made of 3 parts gin, 1 part vermouth, a dash or two of one or more bitters, and garnished with one or more green pitted olives. I prefer a good domestic craft gin. There are many, but my favorites are Greylock and Ethereal, made by Berkshire Mountain Distillers. But there are so many great craft gins. I like Fever Tree vermouths, which are becoming more and more available. I make my own bitters, but there are many excellent ones available. Orange bitters are a good staple. The olive(s) should not be stuffed with pimiento or anything else. BTW, this drink garnished with a cocktail onion instead of an olive is called a Gibson. That’s how narrow is the proper definition of a martini.

    The martini is served in a cocktail glass – that is, a V-shaped piece of stemware. Such glasses have, unfortunately, lately become known as “martini glasses.” “Unfortunately” because these days, anything served in one of these glasses is a “martini.” There is now an ugly profusion of drinks like the “chocolate martini.”

    Okay — thanks!

    I’m sticking with beer. Fiddlehead IPA tonight. From Shelburne VT. Burp!

    Frank Bruni lambasted Robert Kennedy Jr. for the danger his crazy candidacy is posing. “The hubris. The narcissism. The convenient and fraudulent anti-elitism. The out-of-his-mind theories presented as out-of-the-box thinking.”

    He notes Kennedy has no experience in government. Neither did Trump — how’d that work out for you? Kennedy’s defense on that issue is: “I’ve been around government and studying government since I was a little boy.” Bruni says he’s “casting proximity as seasoning. It’s not. I’ve been ‘around’ many physicians in my life. You do not want me performing your appendectomy.”

    See you tomorrow.

  • Wouldn’t It Be Nice?

    Both teams I was pulling for last night won: Iowa over LSU, and UConn over USC. The problem for me now is they face each other in the semi-finals. I’ve decided to root for Caitlin Clark’s Iowa over Paige Bueckers’s UConn. Bueckers is pronounced “Beckers,” and that’s what’s behind my decision. They are both brilliant players, but that “U” in Bueckers is annoying. Whoever wins, the task will be to upset the hated South Carolinians in the Finals. Here’s Paige, hair up and hair down.

    Staying on the court a bit longer, Ryan Turell is the first orthodox Jew to be a pro basketball player. He’s with the Motor City Cruise, our Detroit Pistons minor league team. He played his college ball at Yeshiva U. Vu den?

    Ryan says if he makes it to the NBA he will play on the Sabbath, but will walk to games and practices. However, a crack of thunder was heard as he said this and he muttered “Okay, okay” towards the ceiling.

    “Enough with the three-point shots,” saith the Lord.

    In the puzzle today, two clues/answers inspired egsforbreakfast. At 43A, “Ominous words on a flunked test,” was SEE ME. And at 41A, “Atlantic or Pacific fish” was COD. Here’s egs:

    Ominous words by Tommy after a flunked test: SEEME, FEELME, TOUCHME…..

    Fish Monger: I recently sent some friends some Atlantic fish and some Pacific fish.
    Customer: Didn’t that cost you a lot?
    Fish Monger: Nah, I sent them COD.

    The theme centered on 41A. The clue was “Stop right there!” and the answer was HOLD IT! And then there were four theme answers with things you can “hold.” My fave was MAYO CLINIC. (Hold the mayo!). There were also DOORBUSTER, LINE OF CREDIT, and FLOOR ROUTINE.

    I posted the following on Rex’s blog:

    “On other things you can hold, remember Santino on setting up the restaurant bathroom in the Godfather where Michael was to find the gun to kill the cop and Sollazo? James Caan says — Put our best man on the job. I don’t want my brother coming out of there with just his d*ck in his hand. (Something like that.) Maybe DICK TRACY could have been a theme answer.”

    I’ll let you know if I get any comments. As usual, it may be best if I don’t.

    Rex made an interesting observation on pop culture. It was triggered by a great clue at 57A: “‘God Only Knows,’ vis-à-vis ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice.’” These are two Beach Boy songs and the answer was SIDE B. Here’s Rex:

    “Popular songs used to be in the air. You couldn’t avoid hearing them. I was never a Beach Boys *fan* and I was born after their heyday, but I know so many of their songs just because I was breathing air in the ’70s and ’80s and every decade thereafter, when those songs were on the radio, in movies, ads, etc. Whereas I have never heard a Wilco song in the wild. Pop culture continues to get increasingly ensiloed, so that if you’re not actively into something, you can’t even see it. There’s no real public square, no shared space in which to encounter it. Too many outlets, too many choices, too many places to hide from each other and nurse our identities and fandoms. Algorithms have funneled everyone into valleys, so things that are massively popular in one valley aren’t even discernible in another. This is why pop culture answers of all times can feel (increasingly) exclusionary.”

    It makes puzzle constructing harder in terms of pop culture references. It’s easier to shut out large swaths of the public.

    Owl-chatter hats off to Ronel Blanco, pitcher for the Houston ‘Stros. He’s 30 years old, from the DR, and before yesterday had pitched less than 60 innings in the majors, not particularly impressively. But God (see above) smiled on him yesterday to the tune of a complete game no-hitter against Toronto. He faced only 29 batters (walked two), threw 105 pitches, and the game took only 2:01, despite Houston’s scoring ten runs.

    Here are some cool facts about it. (1) It was only Blanco’s 8th MLB start. (2) It came one week after his wife gave birth to their daughter. (3) The date (April 1st) is the earliest ever for an MLB no hitter. (4) He walked the leadoff batter, George Springer, and then retired every batter he faced until there were two outs in the ninth. He then walked Springer again (!) before getting the last batter to ground out. (5) It was only the 4th time in MLB history that a team’s first win of the season was a no-hitter. (The ‘Stros were 0-4 going into the game.)

    Bravo Ronel!

    Wait — does he have an extra hand coming out of his stomach?

    Tired tonight. Gonna crash. Thanks for popping in. George! — get the lights when you’re done with that movie!