The Wellington Files

  • These Puzzles Fund Abortion 4

    The Marx brother who wore a curly wig, was HARPO, according to the puzzle today. Commenter kitshef dug this info up too: His birth name was Adolph, later changed to Arthur. Groucho’s was Julius. Chico’s was Leonard. Gummo’s was Milton. Zeppo’s was Herbert. Also, Zeppo’s wife cheated on him with Frank Sinatra. Ouch! That last tidbit may have been TMI.

    Before I forget (as occurred several times already), Rex has been boosting this, below, all week. I did their puzzles in the past (via a contribution) and they were good — mostly moderate (Tues/Weds) difficulty levels. And I’m gonna try them again this year. So if you’re a puzzle person, it’s a good cause (reproductive rights).

    These Puzzles Fund Abortion 4 (four!) just dropped this past week—over 20 original puzzles from top constructors and editors—and you can get the collection now (right now) for a minimum donation of $20 (donations split evenly among five different abortion funds—details here). You can check out a detailed description of the collection and a list of all the talent involved here. I [Rex] not only guest-edited a puzzle, I also test-solved puzzles. I have now seen the finished collection, and it’s really lovely, across the board. General editors Rachel Fabi and Brooke Husic and C.L. Rimkus put in a tremendous amount of work ensuring that it would be. The attention to detail—test-solving, fact-checking, etc.—was really impressive. Anyway, donate generously (assuming you are able) and enjoy the puzzle bounty!

    Here’s the link:

    https://fund.nnaf.org/campaign/these-puzzles-fund-abortion-4/c561096

    Also, just to take care of some more business, I received another reminder from our Dirty Old Man Dept about Stormy Daniels being back in the news. Yes — we mentioned that yesterday guys — let’s not go overboard. Okay, we’ll go with just one more shot of her. Here she is at the Wailing Wall — Phil caught her there last Shavuot.

    The puzzle today had a number theme. Pretty straightforward: 007 was BOND. 360 was FULL CIRCLE.

    Did you know 420 is linked to CANNABIS? I didn’t. Apparently, though, it’s associated with marijuana widely enough to make it into the puzzle. According to Wikipedia, it all started in 1971 when five HS kids in San Rafael CA started meeting at 4:20 to search for an abandoned cannabis crop (never found). It eventually just became the time they met to smoke dope, and their story was popularized in High Times. Then 420 crossed over to mean April 20th too and that became a traditional day for pot parties, as well as an international day of observance for the counterculture.

    At 1D “Arizona in Hawaii, e.g.” was SHIP. It’s a reference to the USS Arizona. This ship was struck by the Japanese at Pearl Harbor. 1,177 died and the ship itself still sits under the sea, under the USS Arizona Memorial.

    Smalltowndoc questioned the propriety of its use in an XW puzzle: “The clue for SHIP was tone deaf, given that the USS Arizona was sunk during the attack on Pearl Harbor, resulting in the death of almost 1200 sailors. There’s a thousand ways to clue SHIP. Why invoke a horrible tragedy where said SHIP now lies on the ocean floor with most of the dead still entombed within her?”

    One reply said: I thought the clue for SHIP was terrific. If this had been Pearl Harbor Day, it would have been even better. To avoid talking about Pearl Harbor is to ignore the lessons of history. Brave men died aboard the Arizona; let’s not treat Pearl Harbor as a taboo subject and minimize their heroism.

    Another commenter stated it was disrespectful to leave out USS, so he would have preferred a different clue.

    How do I feel about it? Well, I’m glad you asked. I would be upset to see, e.g., Auschwitz, in a puzzle, clued as this was clued, so I come down on the side of viewing this as disrespectful. But this is less extreme, and I’m not super troubled by it. Here’s the ‘Zona Memorial.

    “Let me know if you see any corner pieces or ways out of this marriage?”

    This poem called “Father” is by our house poet, Ted Kooser, from Delights & Shadows. It’s always a special day when TK drops by. Kick off those boots and settle in, Buddy. As they say in Yiddish: Our casa is your casa — George, see what’s in the fridge.

    Father

    Today you would be ninety-seven
    if you had lived, and we would all be
    miserable, you and your children,
    driving from clinic to clinic,
    an ancient fearful hypochondriac
    and his fretful son and daughter,
    asking directions, trying to read
    the complicated, fading map of cures.
    But with your dignity intact
    you have been gone for twenty years,
    and I am glad for all of us, although
    I miss you every day—the heartbeat
    under your necktie, the hand cupped
    on the back of my neck, Old Spice
    in the air, your voice delighted with stories.
    On this day each year you loved to relate
    that the moment of your birth
    your mother glanced out the window
    and saw lilacs in bloom. Well, today
    lilacs are blooming in side yards
    all over Iowa, still welcoming you.

    Thanks for stopping by, everybody. See you tomorrow!

  • Stormy

    We’re opening today with a report from Owl Chatter’s Dirty Old Man Dept. The day every man in America has been praying for has arrived. Stormy Daniels is back in the news. The NYT Arts section reviews the documentary that tells her story. It’s a decent review, but who cares? We’re just ecstatic she’s back. Thank you, Jesus!

    We sent Phil out on the assignment and, as expected, we’ve lost contact with him for days now. Here’s a shot from our files.

    Lookin’ good, Babe! Take it easy on Phil. He’s not well.

    It’s Philip Roth’s birthday today, born 91 years ago in Newark, just about 30 minutes from OC headquarters. Jersey is proud to call him one of theirs. I heard him interviewed once, on NPR. He was talking about the days before Portnoy’s Complaint was published. He called his parents to warn them about what they would be facing. The book will make an enormous splash, he told them, and they will be besieged by calls and camera crews from news stations all hours of the day and night. He suggested they get away for a few days, to avoid the crush. He later learned that after he hung up, they called relatives convinced that he was delusional.

    One of my favorite lines of his was from The Great American Novel. There was a baseball game and a slugger named Yamm was batting in a crucial situation. The hometown crowd was yelling his name — YAMM! YAMM! YAMM! YAMM! And Roth wrote: “Starving savages invoking their potato god for rain would not have made a louder racket.” Something like that — I’m pretty sure I got the first few words right. Roth himself said his favorite of his books was Sabbath’s Theater.

    Several years ago, I tried to get into an account I set up with the U.S. Treasury for some savings bonds I had for the kids. Of course, I had forgotten and lost the passwords, etc. so I called the 800 number and explained my situation. The woman on the line asked me for the answers to the security questions I set up for the account. “Who is your favorite author?” She asked. Arrrrgh. I like a bunch of writers and didn’t remember which one I put down. As I was dithering, she said: He wrote Goodbye, Columbus. Philip Roth! Of course! She gave me access to the account. So much for the Treasury’s crack security systems.

    Happy Birthday. Rest in peace Philip Roth.

    The puzzle today focused on what some in Crossworld call DOOKS. You look at the clue and you look at the answer you got which is DOOK and you can’t make any sense out of it. What the hell is a DOOK? Then you realize it’s DO OK. Two words.

    Today’s puzzle was a real dook-a-rama. It’s by Lynn Lempel whose first puzzle (of 102!) appeared in the NYT back in 1979.

    So you might be wondering how in the world is “Choice between a haircut and manicure?” DOORNAILS? But then you read it as DO OR NAILS. (DO = hairdo.)

    And how is GOON SQUAD “Continue with your routine, cheerleaders”? And then you see it as GO ON SQUAD.

    egs today: I understand that TSA is going to put further restrictions in place. Instead of just asking for IDS, they’ll also examine EGOS and SUPEREGOS.

    He also added some DOOKs for us. The best was: Crucial step in bowling: Let _______. (Answer: GOOFBALL.)

    So much crap is blamed on God, it’s a wonder he or she doesn’t have more of a bad name. All the wars, the gay bashing, the forced marriages, stuff like genital mutilation, the ruined lives from abortion denials, and the list goes on and on. But this year’s Oscar for “Greatest Monster Blaming God” goes to (fidgets with the envelope): Mary and Jeremy Cox, of Anderson, Indiana! They took their efforts to kill their child in the name of God all the way up to the Supreme Court and even the Supremes wanted no part of it, thank God.

    At issue was the life and death of their beautiful child, a teenager who is a transgender girl. [OC note: We have not seen her. We are using the adjective “beautiful” because all children are beautiful.] Mary and Jeremy are devout Christians who believe a child should be raised according to his or her gender at birth. So rather than obtaining help for their child, they pressured her to give up her gender identity (to put it mildly, see below). At some point in her struggle she developed an eating disorder. Eating disorders have the highest morbidity rate among mental disorders. So this kid was at risk from the high suicide rates for trans kids, and from self-starvation from the eating disorder.

    The State of Indiana got involved back in 2021 when Child Services received two reports of abuse or neglect, related to the teen’s transgender identity. One accused the parents of verbally and emotionally abusing their child because they did not accept that she was transgender.

    A judge ordered that she be removed from the parents’ custody, get treated for the eating disorder, and participate in individual and family therapy. The state argued the teen’s eating disorder might worsen if the parents regained custody. The parents were told not to discuss transgenderism with their child outside of the therapy sessions because of the connection between those conversations and the eating disorder.

    The parents said the state violated their parental rights, their free speech, and their free exercise of religion. “We seek only to raise our child according to our religious beliefs and best judgment,” they told the court. “This case is about the state taking a child from fit parents.”

    The State said the parents’ beliefs were not the issue. Their failure to address the eating disorder justified the removal of the child. The Indiana appellate court upheld the decision, and the Indiana Supreme Court refused to take the case. Finally, just yesterday, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to take the case as well. So it’s over.

    The Indiana appeals court summed it up: “The parents have the right to exercise their religious beliefs, but not in a manner that causes physical or emotional harm to the child.” Yup. She could have died, you f*cking morons. The goddamn State had to step in to stop you from harming your own f*cking kid — are there no depths to which you idiots will not sink?

    God added: Hrrrrrrrumph.

    Between venal state legislators trampling on trans kids for political gain and brain-dead religious lunatics, what chance do these beautiful kids have? We wrote about one who was buried from bullying just a few weeks ago. How many dead trans kids will be enough? How many?

    George! Grab me a fresca — I’ve upset myself.

    Let’s go off with a tune tonight. See you tomorrow!

  • Albert & Tony

    Is your alligator license up to date? Tony Cavallaro’s expired in 2021, and the next thing he knew the NYS Department of Environmental Conservation Gestapo took his alligator, Albert Edward, away. Albert’s 34 years old, kinehora, 11 feet long, and weighs 750 pounds. Sadly, he’s blind and has spinal injuries. From the side, he looks a little like my cousin in Tacoma. His back isn’t so hot either.

    I gotta tell ya, his digs were pretty posh. Tony built an addition to his house for Albert and it included an in-ground pool. Have a look for yourself. That’s Albert chillin’ over there in the upper left corner.

    It’s illegal to own an alligator in NY unless you get an alligator license for “scientific, educational, exhibition, zoological or propagation purposes.” (Propagation of the alligator, I assume — you can’t get one just to make it easier for you to meet girls.) Well, Tony had an expired license and the State said he also violated the rule against public contact with the alligator.

    Tony, who is 64, pretty much had a “C’mon fellas” defense. He conceded that visitors took pictures with Albert, but they never swam with him or rode him. “They would briefly get in the water for a quick photo, often when he was sleeping.”

    Seems reasonable to us. What could happen?

    Also, rule changes required Tony to install a fence costing $15,000. C’mon fellas!

    Tony had Albert since he (Albert) was a baby. He bought him at a reptile show in Columbus, OH, in 1990. For the past 16 years it has just been the two of them living together. About the removal, Tony said “The poor thing loves me. He was scared. I hope I can get him back, that’s all.” On how the removal was managed, Tony complained the DEC “brought at least 20 or more agents to my house in full body armor and guns, treating me like a criminal. It was like I was a gun-dealing, drug-dealing criminal the way they acted.”

    Tony is planning legal action to recover Albert and a petition campaign has been mounted which has gathered over 100,000 signatures.

    Hang in there, Tony and Albert — it ain’t over till it’s over.

    This poem, in honor of the onslaught of Spring this week — hold on a sec — I think I mean onset — was sent to us by dear friend Norrie. It’s [in-Just] by e.e. cummings, and is her favorite, she tells us. Thanks Nor!

    in Just-
    spring when the world is mud-
    luscious the little
    lame balloonman

    whistles far and wee

    and eddieandbill come
    running from marbles and
    piracies and it’s
    spring

    when the world is puddle-wonderful

    the queer
    old balloonman whistles
    far and wee
    and bettyandisbel come dancing

    from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

    it’s
    spring
    and

    the goat-footed

    balloonMan whistles
    far
    and
    wee

    One no sooner started the puzzle today then who pops up at 1A? — Our favorite old lefty, ABBIE Hoffman, alav hashalom. “1960s activist Hoffman,” doesn’t quite capture him, but, okay — Hi Abbie!

    Rex honored him by making him the “word of the day,” but mostly discussed his legal woes. And one commenter nicely said: “Any puzzle that leads off with ABBIE Hoffman is going to be just fine by me.”

    I shared the following with the gang via this post:

    I went to Brandeis 8 years after ABBIE Hoffman graduated, and he came back to speak while I was there. Politics aside, he was a very funny man. When he was negotiating with the Miami police chief over demonstrations down there, he said at one point — “Listen, if one curly hair on this head is hurt, my father will never come to Miami Beach again.” And the chief said, “Abbie — I know your father. He’ll come.”

    Abbie was the first “Sandwich Man” at Brandeis – selling sandwiches dorm to dorm at night.

    He said he was opposed to women’s rights — “Why, if women had rights, the next thing you know — men will want them too.”

    The FBI file on him was 13,262 pages long, according to wikipedia.

    It’s nice to see him in the puzzle.

    Rest in peace, Abbie. Class of ’59.

    egs was up to his usual tricks on three puzzle answers: ABORT, FLAUNT, and STYES. To wit,

    At Cape Kennedy they no longer ABORT takeoffs due to pressure from the Right to Flight movement.

    I don’t personally FLAUNT my wealth. Sure, I show off, but not shamelessly. Take my private jet, for instance. I’ve got a bumper sticker on it that says “Honk if you Wish No One Was Poor.”

    If your dorm room mates are “roomies,” I guess a pig’s are STYMIES.

    We’re going out on a sad note tonight. Special wishes for our good friend Riverdale Joe on the loss of his wonderful cousin Josh yesterday. The world has lost a real mensch, at a time when they are in short supply. At the risk of embarrassing Joe, here’s a photo he sent me of the two of them earlier tonight. That’s Josh on the right, alav hashalom. It was July 24, 1954. The future, as it turned out, was bright.

    Thanks for stopping by.

  • Ring De Bell

    You know that game “Telephone” where you take a message and pass it person to person and see how it changes along the way? Richard Lewis, whose passing we noted recently, said in his family it would start out with something like “Larry got into law school,” and by the end it was “They’re sure it’s a tumor?”

    Too funny.

    It’s St. Pat’s Day today. We had potatoes as part of breakfast (sauteed with onions and sprinkled with paprika) and Irish cheddar in our omelets. Wonderful, with good strong coffee.

    Éirinn go Brách. You may be more familiar with the Anglicized version: Erin go Bragh. Either way the sentiment is Ireland Forever! As you can tell, we spare no expense in putting Owl Chatter together. So we sent Phil over to Galway to get this shot for us. Good work, buddy! Stirs the heart, for sure.

    This poem called “Places to Return” is by Dana Gioia, and was in today’s Writer’s Almanac. It builds to such a beautiful, gentle finish.

    There are landscapes one can own,
    bright rooms which look out to the sea,
    tall houses where beyond the window
    day after day the same dark river
    turns slowly through the hills, and there
    are homesteads perched on mountaintops
    whose cool white caps outlast the spring.

    And there are other places which,
    although we did not stay for long,
    stick in the mind and call us back—
    a valley visited one spring
    where walking through an apple orchard
    we breathed its blossoms with the air.
    Return seems like a sacrament.

    Then there are landscapes one has lost—
    the brown hills circling a wide bay
    I watched each afternoon one summer
    talking to friends who now are dead.
    I like to think I could go back again
    and stand out on the balcony,
    dizzy with a sense of déjà vu.

    But coming up these steps to you
    at just that moment when the moon,
    magnificently full and bright
    behind the lattice-work of clouds,
    seems almost set upon the rooftops
    it illuminates, how shall I
    ever summon it again?

    Let’s liven up the mood a bit with a SOCA tune shared by Rex. SOCA was in the puzzle today at 98A, “Caribbean music genre.” The music originated in Trinidad and Tobago, and the name derives from “the soul of calypso.” This song is “Ring De Bell” by Network Riddum Band. If it doesn’t get to you even a little, you might want to have that looked into.

    Ring de bell for freedom. Ring de bell for justice.

    Up for a sweet pet story? This was shared yesterday, by Rex commenter CDilly52. It was inspired by a clue/answer at 53A in yesterday’s puzzle: “Animal shelter slogan:” ADOPT DONT SHOP.

    “I was legal counsel for the shelter that took such good care of my cats until they came to us on Valentine’s Day 2014. They were a pair. Poor OC had kitty PTSD from having her family and home blown away in the 2013 tornado that rilled [ripped?] through Moore, Oklahoma. She spent her brief shelter time in the hideouts available in the ‘Quiet Room’ the shelter provides for cats in her predicament. She didn’t interact with anyone – cat or human, and the staff was concerned about her adoption possibilities, so they went to work.

    “My cat Pip came to the shelter about the same time, from a rural setting where she was not much, if any older than one year, full of parasites but with four kittens attached, and she protected them with what little strength she had. Alas, the shelter always has a waiting list for kittens, and at the earliest safe (according to the vet) moment, her kittens were adopted out and Pip (not her shelter name) went into a clinical depression. Neither OC nor Pip was doing well.

    “Both beautiful girls had so much potential and the shelter wanted them to find happy, calm forever homes so they decided to try to introduce them. “They took OC’s favorite cat tree with its small hideout at the top and a soft bed for the ‘groundling,’ Pip, and put them in a well-lit store room with a tiny window and set them up with all the comforts a cat could want. It didn’t take long before they both felt safe enough to come out simultaneously. They got to know and like each other and after a while were reintroduced to the main cat room where they stayed to themselves. Until OC found my wonderful husband.

    “We had been caring for our kids’ cats, Cassidy and Midnight, for over six months while they were busy in a regional theatre production. After they took them back, we were unexpectedly despondent. We’re not big Valentine’s Day people, but in 2014, it seemed like the thing to do to end our months of cat deprivation was to adopt a cat. “A cat” being the operative. Well, as many of you know, cats do what they do.

    “We had been at the shelter sitting quietly for a while watching the cats wander around their domain. My husband noticed OC sticking her head out of her aerie watching him. The shelter worker was amazed and asked him please not to move toward the beautiful orange tabby because she had never come out of hiding for anyone other than the shelter folks. But she did.

    “She came quietly down the carpeted post, tail down, stalking. She stared at Larry and jumped up on the bench next to him.

    “Within a few minutes, Larry had his hand next to her on the bench. She sniffed, tasted and then miracle of miracles, head butted him. We told the shelter worker “this one obviously wants at least one of us.”

    “Before we could seal the deal, Pip came out of hiding. (She always let OC call the plays.) She sat just out of touching range and started saying “meep meep meep” in the softest voice. The shelter worker said please just sit still, these two are friends and they both have traumatic backgrounds.

    “Of course we adopted them both. And they made our home much happier. OC stayed by Larry’s side to the end.

    “Animals enrich our lives as we (I hope) enrich theirs. I truly believe that the best pets are shelter pets, so please ADOPT DON’T SHOP. And if you cannot adopt, please consider donating to or volunteering at a local no-kill shelter.”

    As you may have noticed, in the above story I wasn’t sure if the writer intended to use the word “rilled” or if it was a typo for “ripped.” The tornado rilled through Oklahoma, or ripped through it? Rilled means to flow like a rill (a brook). That seems way too gentle for a tornado, so I think she meant ripped. The P and L are keyboard neighbors.

    Richard Lewis, complaining about a restaurant attached to a cheap motel he stayed in: “On the menu, there were flies in the pictures they had of their dishes.”

    Today’s puzzle was brilliant. I hope I can do it justice. It featured eight “attractions” in the U.S., e.g., LADY LIBERTY, OLD FAITHFUL, EVERGLADES, etc. Two were placed in each region of the grid, in accordance with their location in the country, i.e., Lady Liberty in the Northeast, the Everglades in the Southeast, etc. Then, amazingly, the clue for the central answer at 69A was “Locale of this puzzle’s attractions (really, all eight of them!)” and that answer could be all 4 regions: NORTHWEST, SOUTHWEST, NORTHEAST, SOUTHEAST, because the first letter worked as either N or S, the third letter as either U or R, the sixth letter as either W or E, and the seventh as either E or A. Get it?

    The clue crossing the first letter was: “Division for a tennis match” which could either be NET or SET. NET would give you Northeast (or west), and SET would give you Southeast (or west). Similarly, the clue crossing the third letter was “Word before fly.” HOUSE gave you the U for South, and HORSE gave you the R for North.

    The constructor was Simeon Seigel. Bravo!

    There was some fun fill too. The clue at 9D was “Owners of an infamous cow?” Here’s Rex on it: “We’ve got the O’LEARYS as … a couple?? It’s Mrs. O’LEARY’S cow. O’LEARY’S, singular possessive. Since when did we start giving Mr. O’Leary a credit?” [Well, I say it’s about time the hubby stepped in and took his due, no? Why should the missus take all the heat?]

    At 13D, the clue was “Comedian Jimmy with a self-described “schnozzola” and it was, of course, the wonderful Jimmy DURANTE. When was the last time he came to mind?

    He said: “It dawned on me then that as long as I could laugh, I was safe from the world; and I have learned since that laughter keeps me safe from myself, too.”

    Also in the grid at 81A was the actor JOSH GAD, clued as “Olaf’s voice in Frozen,” a role for which he won two “Annies,” awards for animated films.

    His father, Sam (Shmuel) Gad was born to a Jewish family in Afghanistan and moved to Israel as a teenager. Gad believes his father is a descendant of the Tribe of Gad, one of the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel. His mother was born in Germany to Holocaust survivors. Josh was born in Florida and is married to actress Ida Darvish, who is Catholic, and with whom he has two daughters. He describes himself as spiritual but not religious.

    Here are the Gadfather, Gadmother, and the two Gadkids, responding appropriately to Phil’s antics, except for Mom, who has a damn good reason, I’d bet.

    If you need proof that the puzzle can drive you nuts: Consider that the clue at 11D was “Person living in London.” It was a trick question because it had in mind London, Ontario and the answer was ONTARIAN. Here’s a comment by Anony-mouse:

    “I was struggling so much with the ‘person living in London’ clue, trying to think of every possible word of British slang that I’ve ever come across. I eventually got it with a couple of crosses, but it took way too long considering that I live in London Ontario.”

    D’oh!

    At 47A, “I goofed, in slang,” was MYB — short for “my bad.” Andrew noted: MYB? Do we really need to shorten “my bad?” We’ve already gone from Okay to OK to K. Why are these kids in such a hurry?

    Let’s end with 22A: “Bright pink shade” — HOT MAGENTA. Here’s Ms. Moretti from my tax class, modeling for us today. Phil! Where did you take her? Is that some kind of attic? No funny stuff — she’s a Hunter student!

    See you tomorrow!

  • Chrissie, Bring Me the Big Knife!

    Good Shabbos everybody! Let’s make it a wonderful day! George — is the coffee ready yet? Don’t wake Phil — till, like, tomorrow.

    Before we begin discussing today’s puzzle, let’s meet the constructor, Carly Schuna (not to be confused with Charley the Tuna).

    We have seen some of Carly’s wonderful acrobatic work before. Here’s the video she shared with the NYT Wordplay column today.

    OK, on to the grid!

    At 41D, “First part of an ancient Greek ode” was STROPHE. So, of course, if you had to decide between the first parts of several of them, it would be a real Strophe’s choice. And if you made the wrong decision: cata-strophe!

    49A was a bruiser: “Flag carrier of Panama.” Answer: COPA. A flag carrier is a nation’s transport company, like an airline. Panama’s is COPA Airlines. It brought to mind for Rex, Barry Manilow’s “At the Copa.” Here’s how he put it: “I just think you shouldn’t pass up any chance to Manilow your grid. Missed Manilopportunities make me sad. This puzzle RAN LOW (47D) on Manilow. You don’t have to go straight at the song, if that seems too obvious for a Saturday. Why not, ‘Cabana entrance?,’ something like that.”

    Manilopportunities!

    Georgie — how’s that coffee coming along? Sometime before noon would be good.

    The clue at 43D was “#iwokeuplikethis style,” and the answer was BEDHEAD. Cousin of “hathead.” A student once asked if he could talk with me about something, and I said, “Sure, how about after class?” He said that was no good because he had to have some photos taken then. But he came up after class anyway. I said, “What about the photos?” and he said he wasn’t going because his hair looked funny because he had been wearing a hat. And I said, “Yes, I see. It’s called Hathead.”

    BEDHEAD is not necessarily a bad thing. For some, it can be a desired look.

    For others, not so much.

    At 14D, the clue was “Dog park?” and the answer was FOOTREST. Get it? You’re parking (resting) your dogs (feet).

    Did you know this, from 22D? “Word that, when searched, causes Google to display all results at an angle.” The answer is ASKEW. Try it — we did! The google results are slightly off kilter — it’s funny.

    SHEL Silverstein was in the grid today — writer of one of Caity’s favorites when she was little: The Giving Tree. It also inspired one my favorite New Yorker cartoons, which I was able to track down:

    “Without a compass, say” was AMORAL and it was right next to RACISM. In that connection, there was also Ijeoma OLUO at 53D. WTF??? She wrote So You Want To Talk About Race.

    Another nice duo were 23D and 24D, sort of a good cop, bad cop deal. 24D was “My pleasure,” GLAD TO DO IT, right next to 23D: “Let me play the world’s smallest violin for you” — NO ONE CARES.

    At 31A, CAGE could have been clued in so many different ways. Carly chose “‘National Treasure’ star,” who was actor Nicholas CAGE. Do you remember him opposite Cher in Moonstruck?

    “Chrissie — Bring me the big knife!”

    Last one: “Occasions to read letters:” EYE TESTS. Good puzzle! Thanks, Carly!

    Our Pistons fell to the Heat in Miami last night 108-95. Too bad — they were riding a three-out-of-four wave. Have to face Miami again tomorrow in Motown. We’re 12-54 now. It didn’t help that Cade was held to 11 points. Maybe some home cooking will be good.

    How many unwanted pregnancies and/or abortions could be avoided if birth control stuff were given out at the concerts of sexy rock stars? That was the thinking of Olivia Rodrigo who teamed up with reproductive rights groups to do just that at her shows. It’s perfectly legal in all 50 states. Of course, right-wing lunatics are aghast — there are children at these shows! And they’ve been successful in getting Rodrigo’s program cut back in some locations. Through many avenues, she’s a substantial supporter of reproductive rights. Good going, OR!

    Many of you have commented on that poor moose that was killed in self defense in the Iditarod last week. Well, the race finally ended and moose-slayer Dallas Seavey won for the sixth time — the most wins ever. Dallas, you may recall, shot and killed the moose when it got tangled up with his dogs and posed a danger to them. One of the dogs was seriously injured. Under race rules, Seavey had to gut the moose and save the edible parts for donation to charity. He spent only ten minutes doing so, though, and was penalized two hours for his shoddy work. He still won. Sadly, three other dogs died separately in connection with the race. Animal rights groups oppose the race.

    Seavey is 37 and traversed the 1,000 mile route in 9 days, 2 hours, 16 minutes and 8 seconds and won just over $55,000 for first place. As he neared the finish line, Seavey jumped off his sled and ran with his dogs, pumping his fists. At the finish, he hugged each dog on his team — and they gave him sloppy dog kisses as they sat on the winner’s podium. Awwww. Woof!

    See you tomorrow folks!

  • Graceful Handle

    It’s going to be a day of grading tax exams for me, but a nice concert in Princeton is in store for later: A piano concerto of Mo’s, and Tchai’s Fifth, along with some modern piece. Richardson Auditorium is so beautiful, it’s a pleasure to sleep through a concert there.

    This poem by Naomi Shihab Nye is from today’s Writer’s Almanac. It’s called “Prayer in My Boot.”

    For the wind no one expected

    For the boy who does not know the answer

    For the graceful handle I found in a field
    attached to nothing
    pray it is universally applicable

    For our tracks which disappear
    the moment we leave them

    For the face peering through the cafe window
    as we sip our soup

    For cheerful American classrooms sparkling
    with crisp colored alphabets
    happy cat posters
    the cage of the guinea pig
    the dog with division flying out of his tail
    and the classrooms of our cousins
    on the other side of the earth
    how solemn they are
    how gray or green or plain
    how there is nothing dangling
    nothing striped or polka-dotted or cheery
    no self-portraits or visions of cupids
    and in these rooms the students raise their hands
    and learn the stories of the world

    For library books in alphabetical order
    and family businesses that failed
    and the house with the boarded windows
    and the gap in the middle of a sentence
    and the envelope we keep mailing ourselves

    For every hopeful morning given and given
    and every future rough edge
    and every afternoon
    turning over in its sleep

    Today’s puzzle was a bear, so I’m proud of myself for nailing it, eventually, doubly so since even Rex rated it challenging. The entire north was roped off by PHILLIS WHEATLEY, who not only is a Black poet from 1758, but she spells Phyllis wrongly. We were also expected to know that (1) OKRA comes from Igbo, a language I not only do not speak but have never heard of, (2) “Put on blast” is BASH, and (3) “Bill originating in Texas” is PECOS. I got right away that Bill was intended as a name rather than a law, but all I could think was “Is Bill Gates from Texas?” Plus, get this — crossing the second “I” in PHILLIS was “Swing-era bandleader _____ Cates.” WTF?!? Like anyone outside of his immediate family has heard of OPIE Cates. Gimme a break!

    Phoebe Cates I’ve heard of, but that did me no good.

    Actually, Andy Griffith heard of Opie Cates because Opie, his son on The Andy Griffith Show, was, in fact, named for Opie Cates. Cates was also the music director of a radio show that inspired the TV show Green Acres, of blessed memory.

    Do you recognize this babe, below? It’s Elinor Donohue. She played Andy’s pharmacist girlfriend Ellie on the show the first season, but is better known for her role as the eldest daughter (Betty) on Father Knows Best. (How’s that for a fossilized title? For most teenagers today, it’s Father is an Embarrassing Moron.)

    There were high hopes for her character on Andy Griffith. She originally came ahead of Don Knotts in the credits! But she bolted after the first season. She and Ron Howard are the only central cast members still living. She’s 86, has four kids, and has been married to her third hubby for over 30 years. She was married to #2 for 29 years and had all the kids with him. Hi Betty!

    Just got back from Princeton and will hit the sack shortly. Concert was good. Mozart’s Piano Concerto #24 (“The Willie Mays”), and Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony. What’s nice about the Fifth is you don’t have to know the first four in order to follow it.

    See you tomorrow.

  • A Triumph of Muchness

    In a story that almost had to be made up for Owl Chatter’s You Can’t Make This Stuff Up Department, Saudi Arabia unveiled a humanoid robot it developed, and one of the first things it did was grab a female reporter’s ass. But don’t take our word for it. When Phil heard there was a story with the words “female” and “ass” in it, he grabbed his equipment and hopped on the first plane to Riyadh. He returned with this footage, or, if you will, ass-age.

    The robot, whose name is Muhammed (not kidding), later apologized, sent flowers, and asked her out for drinks. She declined, explaining she was already dating a washing machine. D’oh!

    It’s Pi or pie day today: 3.14. So the puzzle was math-y. There was a Greek letter Pi comprised of black squares in the center, flanked by STEPHEN HAWKING and ALBERT EINSTEIN, who died and were born on 3/14, respectively.

    MJB noted: Pi Day was started at the wonderful Exploratorium in San Francisco by Frank Oppenheimer, its founder, physicist and brother of a better known Oppenheimer. 

    Anony-mouse added: “3/14 is also the anniversary of Karl Marx’s death, which occurred in 1883. He thought the workers deserved not just a bigger slice of the pie, but the whole thing.”

    Here’s a quote of Einstein’s on his early impression of America:

    “Most of all it is the women, by the way, who dominate all of American life. The men are interested in nothing at all; they work, work as I haven’t seen anyone anywhere else. For the rest, they are toy dogs for their wives, who spend the money in the most excessive fashion and who shroud themselves in a veil of extravagance.”

    Woof, woof!

    Yup, Linda just picked up a few more veils of extravagance at Target. Looking good darling!

    Thank you for the profound insight, Al.

    But getting back to math, okanaganer says: the most beautiful equation in math is how you calculate the volume of a pizza. If the radius of the pizza is z and the thickness is a, the volume is: PIxZxZxA.

    Mathgent offered: Pi is the most well-known irrational number but being irrational isn’t why it’s important. Square root of 2 is the first number found to be irrational (not the ratio of two integers like 22/7). When the Greeks learned that, it blew their minds. The classic proof that root two is irrational is often considered the most beautiful in all of mathematics. [OC note: Sort of the mathematical Ana de Armas.]

    Don’t shoot, Ana! It’s just Phil!

    I love this note by Dr. A: My daughter’s school makes a fun celebration out of Pi day, and if you have good grades in Math her teacher lets you throw a pie at his face which is so awesome.

    Wait, oops — this is a face in a pie, not a pie in a face. Sorry. George! Send it back — it’s wrong!

    Frank Bruni’s “For the love of sentences” feature shared this entry from a eulogy for fashionista Iris Apfel by Anita Diamant describing an exhibit of the outfits Apfel wore. (Apfel passed away recently at the age of 102.) “Every mannequin was loaded with layers upon layers (upon layers) of garments and embellishments and gewgaws that challenged propriety, common sense, and in some cases, gravity. Elaborate fabrics in shocking combinations were accessorized with feathers, bells, mirrors and so much jewelry: bangles stacked from wrist to elbow, strands of enormous beads that formed a kind of breastplate. Pins the size of small birds. A flock of small birds. And as nutty as the juxtapositions seemed, they created a kind of harmony. A triumph of muchness.”

    Nick Catoggio described House Speaker Johnson’s face during the SOTU address thusly:  “Visible in-frame over Biden’s left shoulder, House Speaker Mike Johnson struggled all evening to find facial expressions that conveyed disagreement without seeming off-puttingly disrespectful. The extended, more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger choreography of exaggerated grimaces and head-shakes he settled on was familiar to me instantly as a longtime fan of the New York Jets.”

    Ouch!

    Last, this gorgeous review in The Times by Oussama Zahr of a recital by pianist Igor Levit: “He was playing the Nocturne from Hindemith’s ‘Suite 1922,’ a collection of five genre pieces like marches and rags, and there are a few moments in which the pianist only needs to use one hand. Gesturing with his left one in a downward pressing motion, he seemed to tell himself, ‘Gentle, gentle,’ as he plucked starlight off the page and dispersed it through the air.” 

    Here’s Anna Gourari, not so much playing it, as living it.

    We’ll let her send us off tonight. See you tomorrow everybody.

  • Serendipity Doo

    Today’s puzzle was musical. The clue at 33D was “Follow a composer’s notation … or a hint to interpreting four clues in this puzzle,” and the answer was READ MUSIC. But I don’t read music and I was able to solve it. Here’s what the constructors meant. At 17A the clue was “A♭?” You were supposed to know that meant “A flat” so the answer was APARTMENT. Get it? Flat is a musical symbol but it also is a term for apartment. There were three more like that.

    B♯? was Be sharp, and the answer was LOOK ALIVE.

    B♭? was Be flat, and the answer was LIE DOWN.

    And the most controversial was E♯? which was E sharp and the answer was TECH SAVVY.

    egs noted: This one was particularly tough because I don’t read letters. Fortunately, the extensive use of musical notation, which I do read, bailed me out.

    Get this — the constructors today were Andrew Kingsley and Garrett Chalfin. Garrett is a freshman at U Chicago and Andrew was his teacher in HS. This is their third puzzle together.

    And, speaking of teachers and students, the Individual Taxation course at Hunter College this semester is being taught by a young woman who was my student several hundred years ago. She’s great. And a law course at Hunter will be taught in the Fall by another young woman who went to school with my Caitlin slightly less than several hundred years ago. The youth may not be moving into The White House, but they are taking over the accounting program at Hunter. And not a moment too soon, kinahora.

    Back to the puzzle, the clue for HAIKU at 53D was “A kind of poem / Found within this crossword clue / Serendipity.” Get it? The clue itself is a haiku. Rex conceded the clue was clever but went on to note: “that’s not exactly what ‘Serendipity’ means—there’s an element of chance to ‘Serendipity,’ whereas this clue is a HAIKU by design.

    C’mon Rex — it’s close enough for crosswords.

    Commenter Smith shared this nice memory it jarred loose: I tend to think of serendipity as when you are looking for something particular but you find something else that’s equally or more wonderful. A moment when you’d say, “Even better!” As when I needed (and dreaded) a pair of high-heeled formal shoes to go with (an equally dreaded) dress, and I actually found a low-heeled pair that worked.
    But I may be wrong.

    Right next to HAIKU, the clue was “Sheesh!” and the answer was OY VEY.

    How do you like 47A? — “Smallest unit of purchasing power, in an idiom.” Answer: RED CENT. Someone noted the “red” comes from the (former) use of copper to make pennies. From 1793 to 1857, pure copper. Then, till 1864 a copper-nickel blend (even though it was a penny!). Then bronze.

    The red in red cent has nothing to do with the Commies. Relax. Get up from under your desk.

    At 28A the clue was “Not playing any songs, as a radio station,” and the answer was ALL TALK. Commenter Tom shared this: Not playing any songs, as a radio station, brought to mind my Bampa (long deceased granddad) who from the front passenger seat on a family road trip in the 50’s ran the entire dial of the radio, then turned it off, famously (in family lore) grumbling, “Nothing on but music.”

    This poem from today’s Writer’s Almanac is by Marjorie Saiser and it’s called “My Old Aunts Play Canasta in a Snow Storm.”

    I ride along in the backseat; the aunt who can drive
    picks up each sister at her door, keeps the Pontiac
    chugging in each driveway while one or the other
    slips into her overshoes and steps out,
    closing her door with a click, the wind

    lifting the fringe of her white cotton scarf
    as she comes down the sidewalk, still pulling on her
    new polyester Christmas-stocking mittens.
    We have no business to be out in such a storm,
    she says, no business at all.

    The wind takes her voice and swirls it
    like snow across the windshield.
    We’re on to the next house, the next aunt,
    the heater blowing to beat the band.

    At the last house, we play canasta,
    the deuces wild even as they were in childhood,
    the wind blowing through the empty apple trees,
    through the shadows of bumper crops. The cards

    line up under my aunts’ finger bones; eights and nines and aces
    straggle and fall into place like well-behaved children.
    My aunts shuffle and meld; they laugh like banshees,
    as they did in that other kitchen in the 30’s that
    day Margaret draped a dishtowel over her face
    to answer the door. We put her up to it, they say,
    laughing; we pushed her. The man—whoever he was—
    drove off in a huff while they laughed ’til they hiccupped,

    laughing still—I’m one of the girls laughing him down the sidewalk
    and into his car, we’re rascals sure as farmyard dogs,
    we’re wild card-players; the snow thickens,
    the coffee boils and perks, the wind is a red trey
    because, as one or the other says,

    We are getting up there in the years; we’ll
    have to quit sometime. But today,
    today,
    deal, sister, deal.

    Our Pistons improved their record to 11-53, pounding Charlotte last night 114-97. I know, some of you are thinking, Charlotte has a team? Yeah, they are pretty bad at 16-49, but any win for Detroit is sweet after losing 28 straight earlier in the season. They’ve won two of their last three and the talk about their future has been pretty positive. OC is looking forward to seeing them in person 4/6 in Brooklyn.

    Jaden Ivey is one of their young stars. He played college ball in Purdue.

    Last, AVRIL Lavigne was in the puzzle today and Rex featured her as his “word of the day.” I had no idea how successful she’s been. She’ll be 40 in September and is Canadian. Married twice, no kids. Her albums routinely top the charts and sell millions upon millions of copies.

    There’s a giant hot dog in this video that is sorely mistreated.

    Hard to go on after seeing something like that.

    See you tomorrow.

  • Drawing of Susan

    This Tiny Love Story, by Leslea Newman, was in the NYT today.

    “If you met Mary today, would you still choose her?” a friend asked. “Of course,” I replied. I felt indignant at the question, yet knew why it had been asked. Mary and I are nothing alike. Mary hails from Puerto Rico and is a former nun; I’m from Brooklyn and light Shabbat candles every Friday night. Mary enjoys horror films; I enjoy poetry readings. Last night Mary ate pork chops for supper; I feasted on tofu. So why did I choose her? Thirty-six years ago, I looked into her eyes and saw nothing but kindness. I still do.

    Here’s the opposite. This is Mark Robinson. He is a raving lunatic running for Governor of NC with Trump’s backing, to no surprise. Trump called him “MLK times two,” which only makes sense as a reference to his weight.

    Among his greatest hits are his wish to go back in time to when women couldn’t vote. His explanation: “Because in those days, we had people who fought for real social change, and they were called Republicans. And they are the reason why women can vote today.”

    Wait, what? Should they vote or not?

    Robinson described Blacks who vote for Democrats as “slaves,” and claimed that “so many freedoms were lost during the Civil Rights Movement.”

    “Black folks don’t respond to those types of comments,” said Cliff Albright, of Black Voters Matter.

    Ya think?

    Speaking of votes and women — I was surprised to see Geraldine Ferraro got an Oscar nomination last night. I didn’t even know she went into acting. You’ll get ’em next time Gerry! Lookin’ good!

    What’s that, George? It wasn’t her? She’s been dead since 2011? Sorry everybody. Human error.

    One of Rex’s commenters enjoys putting a story together using as many words from the puzzle as she can. I could see that being a neat assignment for a freshman writing class. I pass them up — they don’t do anything for me. But others enjoy them. I liked Gary’s review of today’s tale of words:

    “Another nerve wracking thrill ride where the careful delineation between the comfortable concepts of noun, verb, and adjective gets tossed around in the trunk screaming to get out.”

    PICKLEBALL was an answer in the puzzle today, clued as “Washington’s official state sport since 2022.” I had no idea. WA was getting a little grief for it in the comments. Then egs wrote:

    In defense of Washington, PICKLEBALL was invented there and has been played in schools in many districts for years. When it became a big deal, the Pickleball community (full disclosure: that includes me) united to push its adoption as the state sport. Traditionally, the person or team on the side of the court closest to Bainbridge Island, birthplace of the game, serves first. This gets dicey when you’re playing on Bainbridge Island, but works fine elsewhere.

    Let’s take a breather.

    Vermont Lizzie sent us an email that included a drawing of Susan today. It was done from a photo by a friend. Liz says it captures Susan’s youthful beauty. Susan was very beautiful — both in traditional ways and in ways that only came across in her eyes, smile, gestures, laugh — you know what I mean. Even at the end, when it was all taken away, she was beautiful in a different way.

    Miss you, S.

    Good night everybody.

  • An Ghaeltacht

    Aaron Lansky will be retiring from the Directorship of the Yiddish Book Center in Amherst MA in June of next year. We’ve been members since its founding (by Aaron) way back in 1980, and are thrilled to be attending its Klezmer music festival this year in July (Yidstock, they call it).

    It’s a remarkable place and its story is a remarkable success story. It’s central to the survival and thriving of the Yiddish language and Yiddish books. Nobel Prize winner I.B. Singer was asked why he wrote in a dying language and he said “Yiddish has been dying for a hundred years and I’m confident it will go on dying for another hundred.”

    One of our too few visits to the Center was for a party celebrating the opening of its new (then) facilities. When we were leaving, Aaron Lansky was at the door and he walked us to our car in the parking lot. He introduced himself but he didn’t have to — we recognized him from his photo in a story in the NYT about him. He was bubbly and gracious and thanked us for coming. Linda asked him if he walked everyone out to the lot when they left, and he said “No, I just have to get something from my car.”

    If your sock collection is short on Jewish socks, these are available in the Center’s bookstore for only $6 a pair.

    Southside Johnny referred to the clue at 73A as “gibberishly looking.” It is: “In which “‘Ciamar a tha thu?’ means ‘How are you?’” The answer was GAELIC. And he asked:  is GAELIC a real language (that people still speak), or is it more like Latin?

    Owl Chatter’s staff’s extensive research (you know, a minute or two of Googling) reveals that it is definitely still spoken — by close to 40% of the Irish population both rural and urban. Here’s a sign that translates to: “Oy, my back.” (Maybe not.) Actually, that’s the term for a district in which Gaelic is spoken.

    I posted this on Rex’s blog:

    An unusual variant of Gaelic is spoken in the Irish village of Clove. It’s referred to as a Gaelic of Clove. If a resident of Clove were to mince words, it would be minced Gaelic. Here’s a pretty Gaelic lass.

    I crashed on the shore of 116D: “Negative Boolean operator.” What? The answer the puzzle wanted was NOR.

    But one comment noted: The negation operator in Boolean logic is “not,” not “nor.” (Boo.)

    A second comment added:

    NOR is, in fact, a Boolean operator, but nobody ever uses it. It appears in one place in most logic textbooks, and usually not by that name. It has the nice property of being functionally complete, which is to say you can express any statement of elementary logic with just NORs.

    A better clue would have mentioned its use as a logic gate in EE/CE. It’s about as well-known as the mathematical usage, and a NOT gate is usually just called an inverter.

    But, but, but, later a commenter who called him or herself Witt Genstein said:

    In Boolean logic, NOR is used to indicate that two things must be false in order for something to be true. Cluing this as a “negative Boolean operator” seems fine to me.

    egs added: I assume the storm you all have raised about the Boolean operator would be a NOReaster.

    [You may recall I’m the idiot who doesn’t even know what a logarithm is, so this entire discussion was Gaelic to me.]

    There was another poem by Joyce Sutphen in today’s Writer’s Almanac. It’s called “My Father Comes to the City.”

    Tonight his airplane comes in from the West,
    and he rises from his seat, a suitcoat slung
    over his arm. The flight attendant smiles
    and says, “Have a nice visit,” and he nods
    as if he has done this all before,
    as if his entire life hasn’t been 170 acres
    of corn and oats, as if a plow isn’t dragging
    behind him through the sand and clay,
    as if his head isn’t nestling in the warm
    flank of a Holstein cow.

    Only his hands tell the truth:
    fingers thick as ropes, nails flat
    and broken in the trough of endless chores.
    He steps into the city warily, breathing
    metal and exhaust, bewildered by the
    stampede of humanity circling around him.
    I want to ask him something familiar,
    something about tractors and wagons,
    but he is taken by the neon night,
    crossing carefully against the light.

    It’s Oscar night. We only saw three of the movies: Maestro, Anatomy of a Fall, and The Leftovers. All good, IMO. (Alright — it was The Holdovers. So what?) Rooting for Bradley Cooper for Best Actor, and Sandra Huller for Best Actress. Will have to catch up with more of them via streaming. I would have nommed Swann Arlaud from Anatomy for Best Supporting. He was Huller’s lawyer. Terrific.

    I see Jodie Foster is up for her supporting role in Nyad. Living under my rock, I didn’t know she’s gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Her spouse is Alexandra Hedison, a fine art photographer and former actress/director. Jodie is 61 now. Here she is with Hedison, and, below, in the glow of her youth.

    OC readers with memories better than mine will recall yesterday’s math issue on what a COSET is and whether the clue was wrong. Commenter Gary was moved to share this following funny rant/musing with us today:

    Now, this ate at me all last night. I have a math question: I believe 100% of the time a math clue appears in the puzzle, a math expert will pipe in and assure us it is wrong. Yesterday was no exception. Mathematics is nothing if not precise, and crosswords are in the business of celebrating the slightly askew, so fine, I get it, the clue is wrong. BUT, typically, as yesterday, the commenter is utterly grief stricken. We were dealing with COSET, and I wouldn’t know a COSET if it was in line in front of me at the grocery store, but the puzzle left one mathematician “irritated” and another “appalled.” The last math class I took was in 1984, so maybe things have changed, but my main recollection was an auditorium full of undergrads looking confused and getting it wrong. I am under the impression mathematicians live in a world surrounded by incorrect answers, wrongheadedness, dead ends, partial solutions, continuous questions, and students and colleagues getting it wrong like a pack of dolts. So how in the world can mathematicians muster the strength on every math clue to become aghast? Is it just mathematicians who do crosswords, or are they all scandalized all the time? Is there a Big Bang-style whiteboard with a formula describing the level of abhorrentness one can stand from the unwashed barbarians before you say enough is enough? I looked at the Wikipedia page on COSET and it says “heebledy geebledy, garbledy goober” (I’m paraphrasing) and that seems close enough for crosswords. It is assuredly wrong, but maybe not have-a-cow wrong.

    I wouldn’t trust FOX News for a story any more serious than this one, but I’m going to buy this one. Harrison Ford in an interview for Variety was talking about John Williams, who composed the iconic theme for Raiders. He remarked that he often reminds Williams that “his music follows me wherever I go — literally.” And then Ford noted that he heard it playing through the speakers during his recent colonoscopy.

    Here’s the shot Phil got for us of Ford’s procedure. [You’re unbelievable, Philly!! How the hell did you get in there? You were sterile at least, right?]

    Can’t imagine a nicer image to end with. See you tomorrow!