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Bad Blood
Not only was yesterday exhausting with a 2.5 hour law class at 11:30, and then Taxation for the Dead for 1 hour 15 min at 5:30, but my train was canceled so I got home at 9 instead of 8. Argggh. No energy for Owl Chatter. That may happen a lot on Wednesdays this semester.
There was a big to do among the commentariat yesterday involving our University of Pennsylvania, but, thankfully, unrelated to the dreadful goings -on there that have been a topic in the regular news lately. It started (voo den?) with the puzzle. At 62A the clue was “Philly school,” and the answer was UPENN.
jberg started things off calmly enough with: “I have a couple of friends on the faculty of that Philly school, and a grandson attending as a student, and its informal name is PENN. No extraneous letters.”
Northwest Runner got a little snippy with: “Can someone please tell the Big Ten alumni at The NY Times that there’s no such school as UPenn? UMass, yes, but for that other state with lots of syllables it’s just Penn.” (mmorgan then noted: As someone who went to Penn and taught at UMass, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!)
Elena ramped things up a bit: ”As a Penn alumna, it really gets my goat every time I see ‘UPENN’ in this puzzle. Dear Mr. Shortz: The school is called Penn or the University of Pennsylvania. It is not ‘UPENN.’ That is its email address.”
Hrrrrumph!
Anony-mouse responded with:
“Elena, Fight on Pennsylvania!! And though I appreciate any Quaker fighting the good fight, the battle has been lost. And as you note, it’s strictly owing to the email address. I feel your pain. It’s awful. But I take solace in the fact that at least I’m not a Cornell man. Or, God forbid, a Brown grad. Anyway, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for the Red and the Blue.”
But the final word was had by a commenter Penna Resident:
“Every time UPENN appears there are complaints that it isn’t a thing. My wife has a PHD from Penn and worked there, and while most people do not say ‘U Penn’ it is used (not just as in upenn.edu which was her email), especially when talking to people from other parts of the state/country who automatically think Nittany Lions football when you say ‘Penn.’ I understand that some people may not like it, just like some people are offended by ‘philly,’ but that doesn’t make the answer incorrect. the clue was not ‘most commonly used abbrev for a philly school.’
My wife worked in the office that controls intellectual property, and:
“The University’s online style guide says that while Penn is the officially sanctioned term, UPenn is permissible … in situations where it may help to distinguish Penn from other universities within the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.”wikipedia also disagrees:
“The University of Pennsylvania (Penn or UPenn) is a…”
Sexism in the NYT puzzle department? It’s hard not to notice that many of the great New Yorker XW puzzles these days are by women. Robyn Weintraub is the most beloved of them, but there are also Aimee Lucido, Anna Schectman, Brooke Husic, Elizabeth Gorski, Caitlin Reid, Wyna Liu, and others. But Rex noted that in the NYT, in January, there wasn’t a single puzzle constructed solely by a woman, and only six involved a woman as a co-constructor. (There were 23 solo male constructors.) What gives?
Some commenters thought it was absurd to insinuate Will Shortz, puzzle editor at the Times, is discriminating. He’s gay himself, and has plenty of women on his staff.
Andrew wrote: ”Calling (or clearly implying) someone is a racist/sexist/homophobe/transphobe/xenophobe is all too common about those with whom we disagree/misinterpret. These are serious aspersions on one’s basic character (not their ill-conceived posts or bad one-off judgments; it’s condemning their basic unchangeable essence!)”
dgf replied:
“Andrew, Not speaking for Rex, but to say that criticism on the subject of sexism is automatically a major attack on someone’s character is demonstrably wrong. Researchers have shown time and time again that sexism, and of course also racism, is often unconscious. Happens all the time. Bias is an extremely difficult problem to deal with precisely for that reason.
I am sure Shortz et al are not consciously biased against women constructors but the odds are very high that they are unconsciously biased. That’s not a character attack.
On the other hand, refusing to accept the idea that you may be biased, is a legitimate subject of criticism.”Nancy chimed in:
“Andrew, thank you for the voice of sanity you provide and for your refusal to condescend to or patronize those of us who Rex seems to feel are ‘the weaker sex’ — in that we’re unable to stand up for ourselves.
“You pose the question: ‘Have any female constructors encountered such resistance?’ Well, I’m a woman — albeit one who works with a male collaborator — and while, like all constructors, I may feel the NYT has made a mistake in turning down a given puzzle, I have never once remotely entertained the thought that it was because of my gender. Not even once.
“I’ve had the pleasure of a friendly and good-natured email relationship over the years with Will Shortz — and even a phone call many years ago. He is the nicest and warmest person you can possibly imagine. He’s responsive and completely approachable. I cringe for him ever time Rex makes a mean and gratuitous comment.
“I do think the NYT was misguided when they turned down [a recent submission of mine], which was one of my personal faves, but never in a million years would I think they turned it down because I’m a woman.”
Dr. A gets the last word:
“As per the gender imbalance and the commenters complaining that Rex is mentioning it over and over, it’s very important to women. The puzzles that Aimee Lúcido and Brooke Husic and Robyn Weintraub are constructing are incredible and seemingly everywhere EXCEPT the NYT. It’s a huge issue because they are apparently purposefully discriminating against these and other excellent constructors for the very reason that they are in fact women. There are way too many of them for this to be some kind of coincidence and given the poor quality of the puzzles that ARE making it through in the NYT lately (and there are some really really bad ones) that makes it even more astounding. I still do this puzzle because I love the blog and it is not really something I would get without doing the puzzle. But other places are publishing much better puzzles and many of them are by women.”
Here’s Shortz, simpsonized. Does he look like a sexist to you?
S. J. Perelman was born on this date in Brooklyn in 1904. He was a very funny man. He started as a cartoonist, turned to essays, and then Groucho Marx coaxed him to write screenplays, including those of some Marx Brothers movies. He hated Hollywood, though, and later returned to essays.
He wrote: ”There are nineteen words in Yiddish that convey gradations of disparagement, from a mild, fluttery helplessness to a state of downright, irreconcilable brutishness. All of them can be usefully employed to pinpoint the kind of individuals I write about.”
Perelman had two kids but regarded children as a nuisance. His son Adam committed several robberies, was accused of attempted rape, and ended up in a reformatory for wayward boys. The two things that brought Perelman happiness were his MG (automobile) and a mynah bird, both of which he pampered like babies.
Our Pistons lost to a strong Cleveland squad last night, 128-121, in Ohio. But Cade’s back and the boys are at least making their games competitive. The Owl Chatter sports department will take an up-close look at the team when they come to Brooklyn to face the Nets in April. Phil picked up some tix for us. Thanks, Buddy! First five beers are on us!
According to a front page story (!) in yesterday’s NYT, with Taylor and Travis exploding the boundaries of pop-star and pro sports mega-stardom, the right-wing lunatics of the MAGA world are starting to panic over the damage their potential endorsement of Biden could wreak on Trump. Dipping their toes into the pools of idiocy, they already disparage Trav for his pro-vaccine ads. And Taylor endorsed Joe B. in 2020, why wouldn’t she do so again? She has long been active in pro-choice and pro-LGBTQ circles.
Of course, rather than simply concluding reasonably that the couple may support the progressive causes that a majority of Americans favor, MAGA world is instead coming up with typically insane conspiracy theories: that Tay is a secret agent of the Pentagon, or that the couple are “contrived” to boost the dreaded Covid vaccines or other nefarious causes. Taylor is reviled and, more notably, feared, since that time she exhorted her followers to register to vote and 35,000 promptly did. Like that’s a bad thing.
According to the NYT article, pro-Trump broadcaster Mike Crispi claimed the NFL is “rigged to spread Democrat [sic] propaganda.”
Some of the attacks on Swift are hysterical: she’s after Kelce for his money. (I’m not kidding.) And Fox News host Jesse Watters actually said this on the air: “Have you ever wondered why or how she blew up like this? Well, around four years ago, the Pentagon psychological operations unit floated turning Taylor Swift into an asset during a NATO meeting.”
Owl Chatter’s question for Watters: What color is the sky in your world?
To be sure, though, they can’t be happy about these statements of Swift’s:
“I always have and always will cast my vote based on which candidate will protect and fight for the human rights I believe we all deserve in this country. I believe in the fight for L.G.B.T.Q. rights, and that any form of discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender is WRONG.”
“I believe that the systemic racism we still see in this country towards people of color is terrifying, sickening and prevalent.”
As things heat up it’s hard not to expect some bad blood.
You tell ’em Taylor!
See you tomorrow.
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Hi, Taylor’s Dad!
This is an example of how sports — even commercialized pro sports — can surprise and delight us. The Pistons were welcoming the Oklahoma City Thunder to their Motor City home on Sunday. Detroit’s record was 5-40, and OKC’s was an impressive 32-13 and they were riding a 5-game winning streak. Classic mismatch, right? On top of which, our star Cade Cunningham, was back on the bench nursing an injured knee.
So what happens? We pound the crap out of them for a 120-104 win. Detroit was down by 7 after the first quarter but scored an amazing 46 points in the second to take a nine-point lead into halftime. And we outscored them in both the 3rd and 4th quarters. Bravo, gentlemen.
The poem in today’s Writer’s Almanac is called “Eager,” and it’s by Kim Garcia.
Above the snow, a single maple holding forth
its dying flame. Among the feats of Nature:
the wild
greening from dry bulb, sour alchemy of rot, a rusty
handprint of lichen;
the eager
space-seeking species springing up after fire,
as though they took no lesson from destruction
but to begin again, twice as joyful.
The puzzle was good today with a jaunty theme. The “revealer” was at 63A: ”Bodies of advisory experts … or, when reinterpreted as an imperative, a hint to 17-, 24-, 38- and 52-Across.” The answer was THINK TANKS, but you were supposed to read it as an order to think about different types of tanks. And the theme answers were: COMBAT VEHICLE (the most obvious); SLEEVELESS TOP (a “tank” top); HOLDS WATER (a water tank); and DROPS LIKE A STONE (when something “tanks,” or fails). The clue for SLEEVELESS TOP was sharp: ”Garment that may have spaghetti straps.”
Here’s one of my tax students modeling spaghetti straps for us. That’s a good color for you, Ms. Camilli. Thanks!
Owl Chatter friend Miriam Webster treated us to a special gift today, knowing how much we enjoy a fine ale in the evening. Nine unusual words related to beer.
An aleconner, in England, is a town official in charge of tasting and testing beer and ale. He also had the power to bring a brewer to court who had beer or ale to sell, but refused to sell it to his neighbors.
An egghot is a hot drink consisting of beer and eggs sweetened and seasoned with nutmeg. No, thank you.
A nuncheon is a light snack between breakfast and lunch or lunch and dinner consisting of bread, cheese, and beer.
A rumfustian is a hot drink composed of strong beer, wine, gin, egg yolks, sugar, and spices. Ooooh — not for me.
A shandygaff, also known as a shandy, is beer diluted with a non-alcoholic drink such as lemonade.
Taplash is weak or stale beer. I’ve become obsessed with freshness for my beer. I check the “packaged on” or “best by” date and only buy fresh. I had a terrible experience with a fancy ale I splurged on that was way over its date (I hadn’t checked when I bought it) and it tasted terrible. I ended up dumping it out. On the other hand, I had an ale last month on niece Tamar’s farm that was months past its date and it was fine. So, go figure. But when buying now I don’t take the risk. If I can’t find a date, I won’t buy it, or I ask the seller if he or she can help me locate it.
Cock ale. It’s ale fermented with fruits, spices, and the jelly of mincemeat of a boiled cock. I was going to just tip-toe away from this one, for obvious reasons, but I must share this recipe from Eliza Smith, The Compleat Housewife (1729). (Pam — I think you should make it.)
To make Cock Ale. Take ten gallons of Ale, and a large Cock, the older the better, parboil the Cock, flea him, and stamp him in a stone mortar till his Bones are broken (you must craw and gut him when you flea him), then put the Cock into two quarts of Sack, and put to it three pounds of Raisins of the Sun stoned, some blades of Mace, and a few Cloves; put all these into a Canvas-bag, and a little before you find the Ale has done working, put the Ale and Bag together into a Vessel; in a Week or nine days time bottle it up, fill the Bottles but just above the Neck, and give it the same time to ripen as other Ale.
Yup — I think I’m going to give it a lot of time to ripen. And then throw it out.
Lamb’s wool. A sugared and spiced hot ale beverage containing the pulp of roasted apples.
Posset. A hot drink of sweetened and spiced milk curdled with ale or wine.
Burp!
“I’m blanking on what I came in here to tell you.”
The above brief video needs to be addressed. I don’t think Taylor has anything to worry about.
First, you may notice something odd. The Chiefs are going through their pre-game warmups but Justin Tucker, kicker for the Ravens, is right there among them. What gives? This is Tucker talking:
“The way it works is each team’s kicker goes to the other team’s designated warmup area on the field. For me, it’s usually 90 minutes before kickoff. I’ve been doing the exact same thing for 12 years, never really had a problem with anybody. That’s just kind of the way we’ve always done it and the way kickers around the league have always done it. I saw Patrick there trying to warm up and get some dropbacks.
Here’s where it starts to get dicey.
“He asked me while I was on the ground stretching, if I could move my helmet. So I happily got up and I moved my helmet out of the way. At least, I think it was enough out of the way. And then Travis comes over and just kicks my stuff and he throws my helmet. I just thought it was all some gamesmanship, all in good fun. But it seemed to be taken a little more seriously.”
The sentence in italics about Travis makes him sound like an a*hole. And, of course, Taylor can’t be going out with someone like that. But that’s not how Owl Chatter sees the incident. (And former player and commentator Pat McAfee agrees.) As noted above, QB Mahomes was doing his “dropbacks” in the area. He can’t have stuff on the ground near him — he could trip over it. So Travis moved it away for safety. You can see he wasn’t angry or annoyed: just clearing the area. We don’t see the slightest hint of a*holism at play. It’s all cool, Tay.
Hey, on a related note, did you know that Travis’s coach, Andy Reid, knows Taylor’s dad and met Taylor too, years ago? Taylor’s dad Scott Swift played football at U. Delaware and is a big Eagles fan. So he (and Taylor) met Reid back when Reid was coaching the Eagles. Taylor grew up on a Christmas tree farm in West Reading, PA, not far from Philly. When she first met Travis she said, “Hey, I know your coach.”
Here are Taylor and her dad.
My favorite Rex commenter, egsforbreakfast, shared with us that he’s on a vacation in Austria but wound up in the hospital with a bad case of bronchitis. Many in the commentariat wished him well. Here’s what one fellow wrote:
“I think I personally am less interested in you getting out of there than I am in hearing a description of your nurses. I am assuming tall, blonde, capable of yodeling, lederhosen, mugs of beer rather than saline drips, possibly an Alpenhorn in tow? And the female nurses are even prettier?”
Are you crazy about a Mercury? Owl Chatter friend and guitar aficionado Gladstone Chris tipped us off to another version of “Mercury Blues.” This one’s by Johnny Hiland. It’s worth a listen, for sure. (Turn it up.)
We’ll let Johnny play us off tonight. See you tomorrow, everybody!
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Tallulah
As soon as the on-the-field celebrations died down after the Chiefs great win against the Ravens yesterday, the phone rang at Owl Chatter headquarters. It was Taylor asking for Phil. We explained that he had just fallen down two flights of stairs, drunk, and we thought it might be good to let him sleep, at least until Tuesday. Of course, she agreed. So, instead, she asked George and me to help her look into how she might make it to the Super Bowl in Vegas from Tokyo where she’ll be on tour. “We’re on it, Tay!”
We called her back with the good news that it can be done and explained how, but her response was exactly what we expected: “Oy, it’s quite a schlep.” She’s right. Here’s what we told her:
Your last show in Japan is on Saturday, Feb. 10, the day before the game. If you start at 6 pm, you should finish at 9:30. Haneda Airport is about a half hour’s drive from the Tokyo Dome. Building in time for traffic and checking in, you could be up in the air as early as 11 pm.
Now, of your two private jets — the Dassault Falcon 7X and the Dassault Falcon 900LX — you’re going to have to use the 7X. It’s a 4,800 nautical mile trip and the 900LX only has a range of 4,750. The range of the 7X is around 5,900. Flying time should be 10 to 10.5 hours, BUT you’ll gain 17 hours due to the time difference, so you should arrive late afternoon on Saturday, Feb. 10, a good day ahead of the game.
Here’s the problem, though, and it’s a big one. The airport in Vegas is so booked up for the Super Bowl that there are no slots for landing a plane. It turns out, it had to be arranged months ago. We’re going to keep trying to squeeze you in (there must be some Swifties in the airport management), but you may have to land in LA and drive from LA to Vegas. This would save about 45 minutes of flight time, but add a 4-to-5 hour drive. You’d still arrive in plenty of time, but, as you say, it’s a real schlep.
Taylor thanked us profusely (Awwww — happy to help girl, as always), and said she’d decide soon. She told us to give Phil a big fat kiss for her when he comes out of his coma, but we’re going to pass on that.
Here’s hoping this scene will be repeated after KC topples the Niners in two weeks!
This is a pic Caity sent me this morning.
I’ve always loved impressionists: I mean the comedian kind, not the artist kind. My favorite growing up was Rich Little. He’s from Canada and I saw him once imitating Canadian political figures. Makes no sense, of course, nobody knows them here, but he was funny. He’s 85 now, kinehora.
Anyway, if Little were to develop a routine on, say, George Carlin, he’d work on copying his voice and mannerisms, and put together Carlin-esque material to perform. The only complaint anyone would have would be if it weren’t funny. But Will Sasso and Chad Cultgen say they did the same thing, sorta, for their podcast “Dudesy,” and they’re being sued by Carlin’s estate. Ouch! The difference is Sasso and Cultgen used AI to sift through Carlin’s material and create a character sounding like Carlin and performing like Carlin in a podcast: ”George Carlin: I’m glad I’m Dead.”
The estate is suing for copyright infringement and for using Carlin’s name and likeness illegally. Carlin’s daughter, Kelly, said: “It is a poorly executed facsimile cobbled together by unscrupulous individuals to capitalize on the extraordinary good will my father established with his adoring fanbase.”
Arguing for the other side:
“George Carlin: I’m Glad I’m Dead” begins with a voice saying, “Hello, my name is Dudesy, and I’m a comedy A.I.” It goes on to say, “I just want to let you know very clearly that what you’re about to hear is not George Carlin. It’s my impersonation of George Carlin that I developed in the exact same way a human impressionist would. I listened to all of George Carlin’s material and did my best to imitate his voice, cadence and attitude as well as the subject matter I think would have interested him today.”
So whose side are you on? I know one thing: I’m not glad he’s dead.
It’s not the only case of its kind. We’ll keep an eye out for what the courts have to say.
Here’s your Owl Chatter Zen question of the day: If a man says something in the forest, and his wife isn’t there to hear him: Is he still wrong?
A man training for the London Marathon was stopped and questioned by the police recently, the Hertfordshire Constabulary to be more precise. They actually put on their twirly lights and stopped traffic and everything. What piqued their interest was the refrigerator he had strapped to his back. They thought he may have stolen it. He hadn’t stolen it: he just decided to run the marathon with a refrigerator strapped to his back, so it seemed logical that he should train for it the same way.
His name is Daniel Fairbrother and he’s 34. He’s running to raise 10,000 British pounds to fight diabetes because a friend of his came down with the disease. He didn’t think running normally would be much of a draw for fundraising. So when he heard about a marine who ran a marathon with a refrigerator strapped to his back, he thought, Aha — that’s the ticket!, or something like that. Once the police were informed of the reason the refrigerator was strapped to Fairbrother’s back, they shook his hand and wished him good luck. One of the officers said jokingly: “You do know if you order from Currys, they will deliver it for you?”
Fairbrother named the refrigerator “Tallulah,” after the bobsled of the Jamaican team in the movie Cool Runnings.
The opening tax class was okay, but dead. The energy level from the kids in classes meeting late afternoons or evenings is rock bottom. It’s been that way since the pandemic. They are young — I don’t get it. Is it me? I shouldn’t have more energy than they do. It’s a good thing I’m not a complainer or you’d hear from me about it.
See you tomorrow!
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Lost in Cat Hair and Cobwebs
A neat follow-up from yesterday. Here’s a post from Tom T: After all the discussion yesterday around the extremely unlikely “double albatross” in golf (a hole in one on a par 5), professional golfer Shane Lowry scored a very rare albatross (a 2 on a par 5) yesterday afternoon at the PGA tournament in La Jolla, CA. Life imitating x-words!
It wasn’t a “double” albatross, but even a single one is rare enough.
(Phil — don’t you dare bother Jessica again!! But can you get a nice shot of Taylor for us, preparatory to the big Chiefs game today?)
Perfect! Thanks, Buddy!
The Poem of the Day today from the Poetry Foundation is by Maryanne Corbett and is called “Finding the Lego.”
You find it when you’re tearing up your life,
trying to make some sense of the old messes,
moving dressers, peering under beds.
Almost lost in cat hair and in cobwebs,
in dust you vaguely know was once your skin,
it shows up, isolated, fragmentary.
A tidy little solid. Tractable.
Knobbed to be fitted in a lock-step pattern
with others. Plastic: red or blue or yellow.
Out of the dark, undamaged, there it is,
as bright and primary colored and foursquare
as the family with two parents and two children
who moved in twenty years ago in a dream.
It makes no allowances, concedes no failures,
admits no knowledge of a little girl
who glared through tears, rubbing her slapped cheek.
Rigidity is its essential trait.
Likely as not, you leave it where it was.
The puzzle today was brilliant, IMO, by constructor Nathan Hasegawa, who said he spent two years on it. I believe it. It’s a depiction of the game Whac-A-Mole. There are five special squares spaced evenly apart. In four of them you need to fill in the word “hole” to solve the clue, e.g., for “Approach something with gusto,” you’d fill in GO W[HOLE] HOG, with all 4 letters of “hole” squished into one square (it’s called a rebus). And in the fifth, the rebus is MOLE. And shaded squares spelling MALLET form a mallet hitting the mole.
Rex was mildly impressed with the construction, but 29D set him off. The clue was “Put on a pedestal, say” and the answer was HEROIZE. Here’s Rex on it:
The grid seemed mostly clean and tolerable, except for HEROIZE: What the hell is that? LIONIZE, IDOLIZE, these are … words. HEROIZE just hurts. Lyin’ Eyes, yes; Hungry Eyes, yes; HEROIZE, no. Is that when you put an undercoat on your hero so he doesn’t rust? Or polish your hero with wax? It’s like the “N” in HEROINE just fell over and didn’t get back up again.
He also had unkind words for 119A: ”Fifth-century pope dubbed ‘the Great’” (ST. LEO) — ugh, this guy. Patron saint of crosswordese. He comes in LEOI form as well. He is best known for … looking wasted, apparently:
Today’s Tiny Love Story, by Amy McHugh is called “365 Dips.”.
On a Cape Cod beach last January, I braced for my daily cold water plunge. “Can I join you?” asked a stranger. I hesitated. But her red hair and wide smile reminded me of my younger self. “Sure,” I said. Ashley is 29. I’m 47. For seven minutes in frigid water, we shared our stories: her chronic illness and career change; my failed marriage and struggles raising a child with cancer. Every day since our first encounter, we’ve met to immerse ourselves in the ocean. We bond in a daily baptism. I now can’t imagine braving water, or life, without her.
Now, there’s a sub-clause (“or life”) that’s carrying a lot of weight.
They look like twins, no? The caption says the water temp was 50.
Last night’s game in Detroit was between our Pistons, 5-39, and the Washington Wizards, who were an almost-as-bad 7-37. A Piston win would have meant a two-game winning streak. And we went into the 4th quarter down by only 2. But the dam didn’t hold and we lost 118-104. D’oh! The good news is Cade’s back. He played almost 35 min, scored 20 pts, and had 12 assists.
Here he is with a defender. Hey, where’d everybody else go?
It’s opening day for my Spring semester tomorrow. Can’t wait! Only my tax class meets though. The law class starts Weds. I’ll be throwing out the ceremonial first piece of chalk at 5:30 — it’s an evening class.
Good night everybody! Thanks for popping in!
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Is It In His Eyes?
Brava Oregon State Lady Beavers! Great upset win last night against nationally ranked #3 Colorado! The Gill was rockin’. 68-62: Suh-weet!
Does anyone know what an “albatross” is in the context of 33A today? ”Possible (but extremely unlikely) setting for a double albatross.” (Think golf.) It turns out an albatross is the equivalent of a double eagle, i.e., scoring three under par on a hole. Then a double albatross would be four under.
So, on a PAR FIVE hole, shooting a four would be a birdie, a three would be an eagle, a two would be a double eagle or an albatross, and a hole-in-one would be a double albatross. As the clue states: ”extremely unlikely.” For the puzzle, the answer was PAR FIVE: setting for a double albatross.
Here’s Jessica Albatross, asking Phil: ”What are you doing here? It’s a golf reference — come back when I’m in the puzzle.”
[Sorry, Jess — it won’t happen again. Phil! WTF!]
In yesterday’s puzzle the clue at 9A was: ”Song words preceding ‘his kiss’” and the answer was IT’S IN. Great oldie. Here’s a nice version by Cher.
This story by Claire Dawson is from tomorrow’s Met Diary, and it’s called “Bowling Shirt.”
I was in graduate school in Manhattan with a student job as a costume shop manager in the basement of a building on Washington Square.
The same security guard was at the front desk every day, and sometimes we made small talk. I eventually explained that I worked in the costume shop, and he told me about how he lived alone, had a long bus ride in each morning, and liked to go bowling with his team on Tuesdays.
One day, he came down to the shop in his bowling shirt with a decorative patch in his hand. He asked rather shyly if I could help him. He usually ironed the patches on, but they would always come off when the glue got old.
I told him I would be happy to help him. I sewed the new patch on, tacked the others down neatly and brought the shirt back to him at the end of the day. He thanked me effusively, and I said it had been no trouble.
I came into work a few weeks later on a raw, cold day when the wind was whipping chilly rain down the streets. As usual, I said hello to my security guard friend.
A couple of hours later, he came down to my basement workshop with a cup of chili and a container of rice. They were both piping hot.
“You looked so cold this morning,” he said. ”And it’s one of my favorite lunches. I go to the Chinese restaurant next door special for the rice.”
I left after that semester and never learned his name. But now it’s one of my favorite lunches, too.
Enough with the goddamn surveys already!! I go the CVS to buy toothpaste and they want to know how my “experience” was. I tell them it was one hell of an experience. Were all my questions answered? Yeah, especially “Where’s the toothpaste?” Was I greeted when I walked in? No, but when I set the alarm off as I left I received a lot of attention.
My doctors need to know how much I love them too. I can’t go in for a cystoscopy (don’t ask) without getting a five-page survey to fill out. Loved it!! My banks, eBay, Uber. Enough!!
The Owl Chatter sports division is in a quandary over whom to support in tomorrow’s KC/Baltimore matchup. Whoever wins advances to the Super Bowl. Part of the staff is backing Baltimore because the coach is a Harbaugh. Enough said. But the other part likes KC because (a) they like Mahomes, (b) Travis is Tay’s squeeze, and, new reason — (3) RB “Pop” Pacheco is from Jersey and went to Rutgers.
Yup, Isiah Pacheco is from Vineland, NJ, just half an hour from where my beautiful twin cousins grew up in Hammonton and where we spent Thanksgivings in my youth. He excelled at both QB and RB at Vineland HS and chose Rutgers for college over Syracuse, Maryland, and Virginia Tech. He had a damn good college career too, but was not “elite” coming out, and was drafted in the seventh round by KC. But he hit the ground running as a pro. He gained 960 total yards from scrimmage in his rookie year and was the starting running back in last year’s Super Bowl. KC won it over the Eagles and Pacheco gained 76 yards and scored a TD.
His second year was strong too — he gained over 1,000 yards from scrimmage and scored 9 TDs. Here’s what the NYT had to say about his brilliant performance in KC’s playoff win in Buffalo last week:
“With the Chiefs trailing by four points, Pacheco helped them score touchdowns on back-to-back drives by doing what has made him one of the NFL’s most distinctive players: Whenever he touched the ball, he ran with rage, intensity and brutality. He led all players with 97 rushing yards on 15 attempts, a sizable amount of those yards gained after the first defender made contact with him. Sixty percent of Pacheco’s carries ended with him going over the expected yardage.
When he’s not on the field, he’s screaming at his teammates to stay intense. He loves the attention he’s getting from fans on social media. “The funniest one, I thought, was when they say I run like I bite people,” Pacheco said, laughing.
After Bills kicker Tyler Bass missed a potential game-tying 44-yard field goal, KC still needed another first down to clinch. Pacheco ran through two defenders to gain 8 yards on first down. Then he finished with a 3-yard run up the middle. Game over.
Before Pacheco left the post-game podium, a reporter asked a question he has heard before: Are you really angry when you’re running with the ball?
“Absolutely!”
Look at that shayna punim — gotta go for the Chiefs.
Let’s go Lions too! See you tomorrow!
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Some Came to Sing
OK folks, here’s Owl Chatter’s tip for today: If someone comes up to you and asks: “Are you the lawmaker Bae Hyun-jin?” just say no. This happened to the real Bae Hyun-jin yesterday and the next thing she knew some 15-year-old kid hit her over the head with a rock the size of a fist 15 times in ten seconds. She fell backwards and hit her head on the pavement. D’oh! This caused some cuts around her eyes and on her face. The rock attack caused some bleeding, but she remained conscious and should be okay. The attacker is under arrest.
Bae is a member of the South Korean National Assembly and a member of the People Power Party, for whom she picks pickled peppers. She was a news anchorwoman previously. This sentence appears in her Wikipedia writeup: ”Although she had had a short career as an anchor, she responded calmly when Kwon Jae-hong abruptly left in the middle of a program because of a sudden headache.” Man, I hate those headaches. I hope he or she is feeling better. Here’s Bae. She’s 40, enjoys yoga, reading, and baseball, and has never had a boyfriend (by her own choice, for sure).
The folksinger Melanie passed away on Tuesday. She was 76. Her full name was Melanie Anne Safka and she was born in Astoria, Queens. Her family moved to Long Branch NJ where she was ridiculed as a “beatnik” so she ran away to California. Yikes! When she returned, the family moved to Red Bank NJ. (Did you know that the First National Trust Co. of Red Bank opened an office in Long Branch? It was the Long Branch branch of the Red Bank bank.) Get this — she graduated from Red Bank HS in 1966 but was barred from attending graduation because of an overdue library book. (You can’t make this stuff up!) Revenge: Thirty years later she was inducted into the school’s hall of fame.
Melanie was one of only two female performers to perform solo at Woodstock. (Joan Baez was the other.) She had been performing at small cafes before, and it freaked her out to see 400,000 people in the audience. It began to rain before she started and thousands of people lit candles. That image inspired her song “Candles in the Rain.”
You may recall her other hits, “Look What They Did to My Song, Ma,” and “Brand New Key.” She had a raspy, compelling voice. Billboard named her the top female vocalist of 1972. The “key” in “Brand New Key” was a roller-skate key, but this lyric was interpreted as sexual (or the key was read to mean “kilo”), and the song was banned on some stations:
Well, I’ve got a brand-new pair of roller skates
You’ve got a brand-new key
I think that we should get together
And try them on to seeShe said the song was about her innocent days learning how to ride a bike and skate and “the thrill of first love.” Nothing sexual or drug-y. We believe you, Mel.
Melanie married her record producer Peter Schekeryk in 1968. He died in 2010. They had two daughters, Leilah and Jeordie, and a son, Beau Jarred. The girls, when 7 and 6, released a cover of “There’s No One Quite Like Grandma” that reached #27 on the charts in Canada, although Mel was their mom, not their grandma. Still.
She wanted to be thought of as a serious social commentator but never overcame her “cherubic” image. She said “‘Brand New Key’ doomed me to be cute for the rest of my life.”
There are worse things than cute. Rest in peace, Mel.
What the hell is Harold Baines doing in the Hall of Fame? He was a very good player — but Hall of Fame? You need to be on 75% of the ballots to get in, yet Baines never got over 6.1%. That’s not a typo – let me write it out — he never got over six point one percent. He was voted in by an alternate panel of 16: six players, one manager, six executives, and three journalists, several of whom had a close personal relationship with Baines. The decision was subject to intense criticism, and rightfully so, IMO. But he’s a good man. I’m not going to go nuts over it.
Baines comes up because when I heard that Adrian Beltre was inducted into the Hall this week, for a moment I wondered if it was another Baines. But that’s not the case at all – Beltre is totally deserving, and was on a whopping 95.1% of the ballots. He had 3,166 lifetime hits, 477 HR, and 1,707 RBI. He won a Gold Glove at third base five times. He is the all-time leader for third basemen in hits, RBI, and plate appearances (12,130). At retirement, his 2,993 games played was the 14th highest in MLB history.
It’s easy, in baseball, for the game to squelch your personality a bit. If you’re too brash, you can catch sh*t for being unprofessional. And Beltre was quiet for the earlier part of his career. It was only when he joined the Rangers in 2011 that his personality blossomed. He was very funny (by baseball standards). He was on deck one night but standing closer to the plate than the on deck circle. (He later explained he did that because it was safer for avoiding foul balls.) Usually it wasn’t a problem, but this time the second-base umpire told him he had to be on the circle. So Beltre went over, picked up the circle, and moved it to where he had been standing, and stood on it. He got kicked out of the game.
He did other little funny things: played patty-cake with second base after he slid in on a close play; ran way out into left field to avoid a tag. You know how the announcer might say the runner took a lead and was “dancing” off the base? Beltre actually danced out there from time to time.
When it became clear he’d make it into the Hall, I picked up an autographed card of his off of eBay for my collection. That was a goal of mine way back when I started it in high school — to get as many Hall of Famers as I could. So I try to keep up with the new inductees unless they have become too overpriced. (In the early days, you could write a letter to the players and they’d answer! No more. Too much money in autographs.)
Here’s Adrian’s card.
Mazel Tov, Buddy!
Let’s get to the puzzle. Up for another tune? At 25D, the clue was “Ones whose careers have turning points?” and the answer was BALLERINAS. Here you go:
Everyone loved 4D. The clue was “Starts off-key?” And the answer was HOT WIRES. Get it? To hot wire a car is to start it without a key.
But my favorite clue/answer was at 4A: The “handsaw” in Hamlet’s “I know a hawk from a handsaw.” The answer was HERON. I had completely forgotten the quote. The King had just welcomed Rosencrantz and Guildenstern who were visiting, and he explained to them that Hamlet was off his rocker and the King was hoping they could use their friendship with H to figure out what was bugging him.
But Hamlet explains to them that the King is deceived. And he says: ”I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.” Hamlet’s “handsaw” is a corruption of heronshaw, which is a bird (a heron) — so he’s really saying he knows a hawk from a heron. To confuse matters further, a hawk is another term for a mortarboard, that a plasterer uses, so Shakespeare may be playing off hawk and handsaw as two tools, as well as their being two birds. If you followed all of that, that makes one of us.
Commenter egs added: I don’t know my ass from a handsaw, which has resulted in some painful carpentry projects.
BTW, Hitchcock’s film title North by Northwest is derived from this quote.
If you like picking nits, 23A was “Rutabaga, for one” and the answer was TUBER. Are you outraged? Dusty R says: I’m not going to die on this hill, but from what I remember taking plant science classes in college, a rutabaga is a taproot not a tuber. I realize that if you google rutabaga it says “tuber,” even on some university extension websites, but they are significantly different parts of a plant morphologically.
Hrrrrrumph!
See you tomorrow.
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Sweet Home Alabama
Do you find it ironic that the State of Alabama — a state strongly associated with guns and killing — has had so much trouble killing Kenneth Smith? They should have asked Smith himself for help — he apparently had no trouble murdering a woman. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place. The woman he killed was the wife of a preacher. The preacher paid him $1,000 to do it and later killed himself.
It was over a year ago that Smith was on a gurney to be killed by lethal injection. 11/17/2022. The thing about injections, though, is they have to be injected. We’ve all been there, right? Can’t find a “good” vein. Let’s try the other arm. Make a fist. OK, there it is. Well, a whole team of fine Alabama folks was having the devil of a time finding a good vein to kill Mr. Smith. They tried his arms and hands first (duh), and eventually looked for a vein near his heart. The problem (for everyone except Smith) was it was taking so long (4 hours!), they started to worry they wouldn’t be able to kill him by midnight, when the death warrant expired. Sort of a spin on the Cinderella story, sans pumpkins. So, as the NYT put it, “the jabbing stopped.”
Alabama is taking another crack at Smith tonight. They’ll be using nitrogen hypoxia, a gas that he’ll get via a mask, so no injecting is needed. It will deprive him of oxygen until he’s dead. It shouldn’t be confused with nitrous oxide — laughing gas. The last thing Alabama needs is for Smith to die laughing. It’s never been used in a U.S. execution, but what could possibly go wrong? An expert on the procedure reviewed Alabama’s set up and is worried about the dangers of vomiting and/or an oxygen leak that could prolong the process. (TMI?) It has been used in Europe in assisted suicides.
Get this — when Smith was convicted, the jury voted 11 to 1 that he not be killed — that he receive a life sentence. But the judge overruled them. In 2017 Alabama stopped allowing judges to overrule juries in such cases, but the change was not applied retroactively. Bummer, eh, Smith?
Hard to believe in this age of medical advances that they can’t come up with a simple way of ending a life. Why don’t they just put him to sleep like they do routinely in thousands of surgeries every day. Then lop his head off with a scimitar. Painless and quick. What am I missing?
Here – they can use this one.
We love David Sedaris. He has an absolutely wonderful story in the New Yorker that just came out (the Jan. 29 issue). I hope you all get to read it, but I’m going to steal one small part of it, because it’s too good:
Walking along the busy highway in Montrose, Colorado, we came upon three eighteen-wheelers parked on a dusty lot. The doors of one were open, and inside were stacks of new-smelling tires. “If you had a year, do you think you could eat one of those?” I asked, pausing to wipe the dirt and sweat off my forehead with a bandanna I’d been carrying. “If you had to, I mean.”
Dawn looked inside the truck. “A tire? Sure, if it didn’t kill me. First thing I’d do is cut it into three hundred and sixty-five pieces, then divide each of those into pill-size portions I’d eat throughout the day.”
It was exactly what I would do. “I wonder what percentage of people would put it off to the last minute,” I said. “Can you imagine? Time is almost up. You have a knife in one hand, a fork in the other, and are staring down an untouched radial tire thinking, Fuck!”
A convertible roared by, and we could briefly hear the music the driver was playing, a song that neither of us would ever voluntarily listen to. “That’s what my brother would do—put it off,” I told her. “Then, there’d be people who’d wait until the last minute and beg you to help them. It’s the Ant and the Grasshopper, when you really think about it, and, though I’m not proposing this, if you had to cull the population, I think this would be a pretty good way to do it. Those who eat their tire by the deadline stay. Those who put it off and make excuses die.”
“That seems fair,” Dawn said, adding that kids could be given bicycle tires.
The Pistons won last night! That’s two wins in their last five games and a 5-39 record for the season. They beat Charlotte 113-106 in Detroit. Still without their star Cade Cunningham. Good game, fellas!
So old Basil Featherston, 87 years old, came into his office one morning and discovered that $20,000 was missing from the office safe. His personal secretary, the voluptuous 19-year-old Ms. Winters must have taken it — she was the only other person with the combination. He waited for her to arrive and confronted her.
“I know you are the thief, Ms. Winters, and I’m calling the police,” he told her.
She said, “Please, please, Mr. Featherston. Please don’t call the police. I’m only 19 and it will ruin my life. Please give me a chance — I’ll do anything if only you won’t call the police.”
He looked at her for a few moments and said, “Anything?”
So the scene shifts to a dingy motel on the outskirts of town and the two of them are in bed. But he’s 87 and he just can’t get the ball rolling, so to speak. They try everything they can think of, but nothing works. Finally, after 45 minutes, exhausted, his head slumps on to the pillow, and he says: ”Ms. Winters, I’m going to have to call the police.”
How do we feel about Trump’s calling Haley a birdbrain the other night? Welly, an unusually wise owl, didn’t take offense. More often than not, he noted, an insult is like throwing a bucket of water out of a moving car: Most of it splashes back on the insulter.
And what was that about her perfectly nice dress? He called it “a fancy dress that probably wasn’t so fancy.” Phil tells us it was a floral jacquard dress by Teri Jon similar to this one that lists for $500-$600, but you can get it for much less if you’re careful.
Haley turned 52 this week and has two grown kids. She’s 5′ 6′, in good shape, and can show off her looks when she wants to. Trump can attack her appearance all he wants, but, as the saying goes, that dog won’t hunt.
Today’s puzzle had an unusual theme — Mercury. First, at 17A, we had “Mercury is in this,” and the answer was GLASS THERMOMETER. At 45A, “The Mercury might be in this” was a basketball reference: WNBA FINALS. At 26A, “Mercury might be in this” was RETROGRADE. (It’s when the motion of a planet is reversed from its usual direction, due to the relative orbital progress of the earth and the planet. You knew that, right?) And, last, at 58A, “Mercury was in this,” is a Freddy Mercury (of Queen) reference: BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY.
If you like hard core rock and roll, turn it up for this David Lindley tune, “Mercury Blues:”
If I had money
I’ll tell you what I’d do
I’d go downtown
And buy a Mercury or two.
I’m crazy ’bout a Mercury.Who isn’t? See you tomorrow.
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Come On Home
We have some follow-up material on the Shangri-Las and the late Mary Weiss. The band took its name from a restaurant on Long Island. They had six top-40 hits between 1964 and 1966. Mary was only 15 when “Leader of the Pack” soared to #1. She called herself a “street singer” and said the greatest compliment she ever received was from Joey Ramone at the New York punk club CBGB. He told her, “Without the Shangri-Las, there would have been no Ramones.”
Amy Winehouse described the group’s 1965 single “I Can Never Go Home Anymore” as “the saddest song in the world,” remembering how she listened to it over and over for days after a painful breakup. Yikes — it’s wrenching. Hear it for yourself:
Ellie Greenwich, one of the writers of “Leader of the Pack,” said: “The Shangri-Las were tough girls, and I was somewhat afraid of them. They had an attitude before they made it.” Mary and her sister Elizabeth met the others at Andrew Jackson High School in Queens: sisters Marge and Mary Ann Ganser. Yup, I can see it. The Gansers look like they would tear you in half while maintaining their smiles.
“Fame doesn’t do anything for me, never did,” Mary told The NYT in 2007. “Actually, I never really liked it.” “When we started, it was all about music,” she told Rolling Stone. “By the time it ended, it was all about litigation.”
The group’s final show was a reunion “oldies” concert in NJ in 1989. Mary released a solo album in 2007, Dangerous Game, that got good reviews.
They were called a “girls group” but Mary hated the term, saying it was sexist. They have not been enshrined in the Rock and Roll HOF, although “The Leader of the Pack” is honored as a single.
Mary is survived by her niece, Tracy Kendall, her sister Elizabeth Nelson, who is now the last surviving Shangri-La; and Mary’s husband, Edward Ryan, who was, without question, the leader of the pack.
It’s a music day at Owl Chatter. The puzzle theme today was LONG JOHNS, and it took five people named John with 5-letter last names and made their last names “long” by doubling each letter. E.g., the astronaut was John GGLLEENNNN. The quarterback was John EELLWWAAYY. The civil rights leader was John LLEEWWIISS. The U.S. President was John AADDAAMMSS.
Rex noted that another theme answer could have been the singer John Prine and he shared an exquisite song of his, “Summer’s End,” twice — once by Prine himself and again via a cover by Phoebe Bridgers. I’m stealing both shamelessly for us. Brace yourselves.
1D was “Refrigerator decorations” and the answer, of course, was MAGNETS. I was able to find one of my favorite old New Yorker cartoons on the topic. It’s by Bruce Eric Kaplan (BEK).
Here’s another one of his, for no particular reason.
At 30A, “Introductory course?” was SALAD, and it opened a discussion by folks who serve the salad either after the main entree, or contemporaneously. gfrpeace wrote: ”I suppose I should carp about SALAD as an introductory course. Restaurants do it that way to give them time to cook the other courses and still get you out fast. But it is supposed to come after the meal.”
Nancy added: ”gfrpeace — I had the same reaction as you did to SALAD in that it shouldn’t be served as a first course. But at least I’ve heard of that. I’ve never heard of it being served after the meal.
“I grew up in a ‘with-the-meal, SALAD as a side-dish’ family. I sometimes think I’m the only one left in America who grew up that way. I’m always having to explain to waiters: ‘No, I’m NOT finished with my salad.’ ‘No, I DON’T want you to take it away.’ ‘Yes, I WOULD like you to bring me my entree now. Yes, I will just MOVE my salad over HERE [gesturing] and eat it with my main course when you bring it.’”
jberg chipped in: ”My family always had salads first, when we had them at all; but one day my (ex-)wife and I had dinner at a French restaurant in Norway, Maine. I ordered a Caesar salad, and they explained when they brought the entree that in France salads were served afterward, to help clear the palate for dessert. Then when the time came the waiter came in with a wooden bowl and prepared it tableside, in the old way — first rub an anchovy into the wood, then put in the lettuce and crack a fresh egg over it, which you mix in with some other things to dress it. (Illegal now, but not then.) It was so impressive that I’ve remembered it ever since; and, being a bit snobbish, we began to serve salads after the main dishes. I don’t think it affects one’s enjoyment of the meal.”
Sticking with food theme, at 15A, “Tandoori chicken accompaniment,” was the delicious Indian bread NAAN. It led egsforbreakfast the share the following: ”I love stuff from the Tandoor, so I sent away for an Indian bread-making kit. It included a packet of something I couldn’t decipher at first, so I guess it was a NAAN starter.”
13D was “Its shores have the lowest land-based elevation on Earth,” and the answer was DEAD SEA. It lead Lewis down memory lane:
“DEAD SEA brought back a funny memory I haven’t thought about in ages. Some 40 years ago, a bit out of college, and traveling, I went there on a crowded day, lots of people on the beach and standing in the water. It was a hot day, and the water looked so inviting, I couldn’t wait to get in.
“A wide stretch of sand stood between me and the sea, and I broke into a sprint toward what I envisioned as a refreshing splash and dunk.
“At this point, in my memory, everything shifts into slow motion. Suddenly, it seems, everyone in the hoards on the beach and in the water looked at me in panic, pointing toward me, then started waving their hands overhead in an effort to get me to stop, shouting ‘NOOOOOOOOOO!’
“That is what I remember most, that slow-motion cinematic moment with the panicked faces, yells, and motions. Oh, happy ending, I did stop in time, and I learned that the hyper-saline water sharply stings the eyes; it’s torture to be splashed upon. But oh, did I unite a host of humans in terror that day!”
Last on the puzzle, I made the following comment on that refrigerator magnet, above. I wrote (as Liveprof): ”Years ago, my refrigerator magnet collection was my pride and joy. I would pore over revolving magnet stands in tacky gift shops on our vacations while my family screamed at me to hurry. One of my favorites was a gorgeous one of a mission wall from a trip to San Antonio. Another one was a Churchill quote: ‘If you’re going through hell, keep going.’ I had one that was given out at a bris (circumcision) by the mohel. It was a little teddy bear with the word ‘mohel’ and his phone number on it. But then we redid the kitchen and I discovered to my horror that our new refrigerator did not hold magnets. D’oh! They are sitting in a box in the basement now, clinging to one another for comfort.”
I love when a comment of mine results in an exchange with others. My note generated two responses:
Carola wrote: ”Liveprof: – I once gave a very cute and apt MAGNET to a friend, who then told me magnets didn’t stick to her refrigerator. I can’t tell you how astonished I was. Why would they do that? Depriving people of a way to easily post a rotating array of kids’ art work, grocery lists, do-not-forget-this paperwork, postcard mementos….”
And whatsername wrote: ”Liveprof: As a fellow collector, I also enjoyed your refrigerator magnet story and can picture them pitifully huddled together in their box. I once took all mine down during a feng shui attack and put them away in a drawer. Then one day I saw them there and they looked so sad I put them all back. Non-magnet lovers wouldn’t understand, but the kitchen just feels more like home with all my friends there where I can see them.”
Thanks for dropping in! See you tomorrow.
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Curses! Foiled Again!
“Game show co-host who could be called a ‘woman of letters,’ familiarly,” was the clunky clue at 50D today for the lovely VANNA White. She still works on Wheel of Fortune, as she has since 1982, and is turning 67 next month.
Vanna is famous for her “seamless revealing of letters on the game board, her smile, and her constant clapping in support of each episode’s contestants.” On the May 24, 2013 episode, Vanna was presented with a Guinness World Record certificate for “most frequent clapper.” At that point, she had clapped an estimated 3,480,864 times across the show’s 30 seasons.
Here’s Vanna at home, fresh out of bed in the morning. At least Phil let her throw a robe on. He’s impossible.
Don’t forget to sign the card — it’s John Hancock’s birthday today (1737)! Of course, JH is best remembered for his big beautiful signature on the Declaration of Independence. He was the President of Congress at the time. Legend has it he signed so prominently so King George would be able to read it without his glasses. But that’s just a nice story and isn’t true.
There was no ceremonial signing of the Declaration on July 4, 1776. After Congress approved the wording of the text on July 4, the fair copy was sent to be printed. As president (of Congress), Hancock may have signed the document that was sent to the printer but it’s not certain and that copy is lost. The printer, John Dunlap, produced the first published version of the Declaration, the widely distributed “Dunlap broadside.” Hancock’s name appeared on it, as President of Congress, but no other delegates were named. This meant that until a second broadside was issued six months later with all of the signers listed, Hancock was the only delegate whose name was publicly attached to the treasonous document. That’s called courage, folks. Hancock sent a copy of the Dunlap broadside to George Washington, instructing him to have it read to the troops. They knew what they were fighting for.
Hancock’s iconic signature first appears on a different document—a sheet of parchment carefully handwritten sometime in 1776 after July 19 and signed on August 2 by Hancock and those delegates present. Known as the “engrossed copy,” this is the famous document. It’s currently located in a cardboard box in a bathroom at Mar-a-Lago.
Here’s a signature of JH that is selling on eBay for $7,000. See it down there near the bottom on the right? Seems like a bargain.
Speaking of signatures, I just added Glenn Elliott to my collection. Elliott played college ball at Oregon State U and had a brief MLB career with the Boston Braves 1947-49. His place in history stems from his giving up Jackie Robinson’s first hit. It was in Ebbets Field in Brooklyn on April 17, 1947: a bunt single. Elliott passed away in 1969.
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When did you start feeling you were “on the back nine,” as the golfers put it? When you turned 50? I remember having a bad cold when I turned 50 and I slipped on icy stairs (not to be confused with icy stares) going out to get the paper and fell down and thought, well, this isn’t the best start. Anyway, you know the actress Tiffani Thiessen? She was a teen idol in the 90s from her role in Saved by the Bell, and has been in a whole bunch of shows and movies since then. She’s been married to actor Brady Smith for 18 years and they have two kids.
Well, she decided to kick 50 in the teeth and released photos of herself that blow up the idea of aging. Good for you Tiff! And good for us too — she’s a knockout! This is the photo she released to her fans with the caption: ”Over the hill — this is 50.” Point well made, young lady.
The puzzle’s theme today was Strunk and White’s Elements of Style. So there was an element (like lead) followed by something you wear. So we had these theme answers: OXYGEN MASK, LEAD APRON (like when you’re getting an x-ray at the dentist — he tells you it’s perfectly safe, then he puts a lead apron over your chest and goes five doors down to press the button), GOLD GLOVE, and TIN FOIL HAT.
A tin foil hat is what lunatics wear to protect themselves from rays emanating from above. ”Tin Foil Hatters” believe that such hats prevent mind control by governments, spies, mobsters, corporations, or paranormal beings. A group of MIT students found that tin foil hats do shield their wearers from radio waves over most of the tested spectrum, but increased the strength at certain frequencies to which the government has access. Oh, no!
This group is wisely playing it safe.
So is this guy.
And this guy’s really not taking any chances.
So, Owl Chatter wants you to know — if you ever get the feeling that you’re losing your mind — you’re not.
Enough nonsense for the day, amirite? See you tomorrow.
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Goosebumps
On most Mondays we take Granddaughter #1, Lianna, to school. Lawton C. Johnson Summit NJ Middle School, 8th grade. I yelled up to her that we had to go and she yelled back that she was still putting her bracelets on. They are not Taylor Swift friendship bracelets — Lianna is too cool to be a Swiftie — but there are about 25 of them, give or take. When she finally came down, all braceleted up, I noticed she also had various attachments all over the place — pants, hair, neck, etc. I said, Lianna — you don’t get dressed in the morning, you get assembled.
Remember when Tipper Gore was all up in arms over the lyrics in kids’ music? They devised warning stickers. How quaint that all seems now. Today’s music makes those old tunes seem like kindergarten songs. This morning Lianna treated us to a song that rhymed “comatose” with “overdose.” There are f-bombs all over the place. So much for your f*cking stickers Tipper. I’m glad I’m just the driver.
Here’s Tipper with her daughter and some guy.
The puzzle surprised me today by having “Numbered classical pieces” be OPUSES, i.e., the plural of opus. I had heard the plural of opus was opera, and it was one of my favorite plurals. (You all have favorite plurals, right?) So I checked with our dear friend Miriam Webster and she assured me the plural of opus is opera. But opuses is correct too.
Remember Steve Forbert? He’s a folkie from the late 70s. He turned 69 last month, and he’s from Mississippi. Sam and I saw him a few years ago in Annie Arbor at The Ark. Anyway, here’s one of his hits, “Romeo’s Tune.” (ROMEOS was in the puzzle today, nicely clued with “Lover boys.”)
“Let me smell the moon in your perfume.”
The puzzle was good today — even Rex liked it. The theme was “the birds and the bees,” so each theme answer had a phrase comprised of a bird and a second word that started with the letter B. GOOSE BUMPS. PENGUIN BOOKS. TURKEY BOWL. My favorite was “Certain ice cream or soap product,” DOVE BAR.
The clue at 66A was “What a score of 70 or less signifies on a common standardized test,” and the answer was LOW IQ. It set Rex off: ”LOW IQ is such a grim answer. All IQ stuff just reeks of eugenics. All IQ-related answers make me cringe. . . .” He cited an article from the DePaul Law Review.
It recounts how the IQ test was developed to identify lesser people for weeding out. Here is one paragraph from it:
In 1927, eugenic rhetoric condemning the “feebleminded” found its
way into the nation’s highest court. In Buck v. Bell, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld the involuntary sterilization of Carrie Buck, a so-called “imbecile.” The Court noted that she was not only “feebleminded,” but also “the daughter of a feeble minded mother in the same institution, and the mother of an illegitimate feeble minded child. Chief Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, writing for the majority, famously declared, “[i]t is better for all the world, if instead of waiting to execute degenerate offspring for crime, or to let them
starve for their imbecility, society can prevent those who are manifestly unfit from continuing their kind …. Three generations of imbeciles are enough.” (Apparently, he never met my in-laws. Just kidding, darling!)
Since we reported on the Pistons 4th win of the season last Monday, they have dropped two more games. So they are now 4-38. In their loss to Milwaukee Saturday they scored 135 points. (The Bucks scored 141.) They play the Bucks again tonight. Oy.
The Pistons are paying their head coach, Monty Williams, $78.5 million for a six-year contract — the highest amount in NBA history. Perhaps if they bumped it up to $100 million? Just sayin’.
Phil said this was closest thing to a smile he could get out of the poor guy.
It figures that just as he’s pulling out of the race, right-wing monster Ron DeSantis finally does something to win me over. In his dropout video, he used a quote that he thought was by Winston Churchill but was actually from — get ready for it — a Budweiser commercial.
I know — seriously, right? — you cannot make this stuff up.
The quote that DeSantis attributed to Churchill is: “Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” Historians have repeatedly disproved that Churchill said it. The International Churchill Society states: “This fake quote is very often attributed to Churchill but appears nowhere in the Churchill canon.”
Richard Langworth, a historian and the author of 11 books on the wartime leader said, “While included in some poorly researched quote books, the quote can’t be found among Churchill’s 50 million published books, articles, speeches and papers; and words about him by close colleagues.” He added that it does not sound like Churchill’s prose.
So what, in fact, is the quote’s provenance? It comes from a Budweiser advertisement from 1938. (Burp!) It featured a young boy going fishing despite a gloomy weather forecast. The ad said: “The man who has lost the spirit of youth is too busy with gloomy forecasts to gather bait, much less go fishing. Men with the spirit of youth pioneered our America… men with vision and sturdy confidence. They found contentment in the thrill of action, knowing that success was never final and failure never fatal.”
Only a few hours before the post with the fake quote, DeSantis’s campaign chief faced criticism for spending too much time working on a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle. (Again, we are not kidding.)
Here’s Winston and his wife Casey. Hmmmm — does he look a little like Paul Rudd to you?
It’s been too long since we had a visit from Ted Kooser, Owl Chatter’s poet laureate. Wassup, TK? You got something for us?
This is from Winter Morning Walks
When I switched on a light in the barn loft
late last night, I frightened four flickers
hanging inside, peering out through their holes.
Confused by the light, they began to fly
wildly from one end to the other,
their yellow wings slapping the tin sheets
of the roof, striking the walls, scrabbling
and falling. I cut the light
and stumbled down and out the door and stood
in the silent dominion of starlight
till all five of our hearts settled down.
Thanks for stopping by. See you tomorrow!
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The Wellington Files 