The Wellington Files

  • Leaf-Clogged Drains and Slick Streets

    Here are two lines from a poem that did not make it past the Owl Chatter guard puppies:

    “Even the roadkill, coveting concrete, stands 
    And walks. Where are those left behind?” 

    [Where, indeed?]

    You know the expression: “He received his just deserts?” Its meaning is very different from “He just received dessert.” The D word is pronounced the same in each case — like chocolate cake. But with one “s” it means “what he deserved” and has nothing to do with food. With two, it’s that sweet food thing at the end of the meal. A lot of people put in an extra “s” incorrectly when they mean the first, above. But none of us ever will, right? Good. Now give me a cookie.

    Derek Rose, of the Dull Men’s Club (UK), posts:

    These are photos of my lucky pants. I first wore them when I did my O levels at age 16. Got good results. Then A levels. I am now 63 (do the maths). I have worn them for a driving test, final degree exams, first dates, motorcycle test… no way was I falling off wearing them! Hgv test, numerous interviews, when I got married (they let me down a bit on that one!). Last time I wore them was for the last job I applied for about 7 years ago. I will wear them again sometime for sure and eventually they can bury me in them.

    Does anyone else have lucky pants?

    Andrew Brown: Plenty of wear left in those yet, look after them.

    Neil Reddy: I had a pair of pants like that in prison. Not very lucky for me unfortunately.

    Dave Rowley: I used to, but someone threw them away. Sandra?

    Rob Clay: My lucky pants spent most of their time on random bedroom floors…fnar, fnar.

    Steve Fox: I had a lucky rabbit’s foot once but I lost it

    Alan Freeman: I’ve got a pair of shoes that I bought during my 1st year at university. I repair them myself so never been to a cobbler. They are a heavy shoe and get heavily used every winter. I’m 80 now so they have had over 60 years of use and still going.

    Derek: Wow…We need the photos ! That’s fantastic !

    Alan:

    Derek: Quality. I wish you another 100,000 miles in them.

    Kinehora!

    It was on this day in 1955, in Montgomery, Alabama, that Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat in the front of a bus to a white passenger. The boycott of the city-owned bus company it inspired lasted 382 days. We were on that bus — it’s in the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn MI.

    The limo from JFK’s assassination is there too. Did you know it was cleaned and repaired and continued to be used by the government for a while before it was turned over to history?

    In the puzzle today, the theme was “Cold Front” and the theme answers were all phrases in which the first word (the “front”) had something to do with coldness. CHILL PILL, COOL CAT, FROZEN ACCOUNT, and POLAR OPPOSITE.

    The adjectival use of “chill,” above, evoked for me the “chill rains” in Bart Giamatti’s great essay on baseball, “The Green Fields of the Mind.” Here’s the opening paragraph, in which those rains fall:

    It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops. Today, October 2, a Sunday of rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick streets, it stopped, and summer was gone.

    A special Owl Chatter mazel tov to Alexis Lewis and new hubby NJ Senator Cory Booker! Woo hoo!! We love CB ever since he gave an incredible speech at our Caitlin’s graduation ceremony at Raritan Valley Community College when he was the mayor of Newark. Alexis is Jewish and 38, and CB is not and 56. Just look at these crazy lovebirds! Did you know he played football at Stanford? Big dude.

    I found this story online. It’s one that Sen. Booker told at Caity’s graduation (though he told it much better). It was on the topic of having your actions be consistent with your words, or else your words will have no force.

    During the 1930s, a young boy had become obsessed with eating a lot of sugar. His mother was very upset with this. But no matter how much she scolded him and tried to break his habit, he continued to satisfy his sweet tooth. Being totally frustrated, she decided to take her son to see Mahatma Gandhi who was the boy’s idol.

    She had to walk many miles across the country, for hours under scorching sun to finally reach Gandhi’s ashram. There, she recounted her difficult journey and shared with Gandhi her unpleasant situation:

    “Bapu (Father), my son eats too much sugar. It is not good for his health. Would you please advise him to stop eating it? ”

    Gandhi listened to the woman carefully, thought for a while and replied: “Please come back after two weeks. I will talk to your son.”

    The women looked confused. Then she took the boy by the hand and went home. She made the long journey home and in two weeks time made it once again as Gandhi requested. When they arrived, Gandhi looked directly at the boy and said: “Boy, you should stop eating sugar. It is not good for your health.”

    The boy nodded and promised he would not continue this habit any longer. The boy’s mother was puzzled. She turned to Gandhi and asked,

    “Bapu, Why didn’t you tell him that two weeks ago when I brought him here to see you?”

    Gandhi smiled and whispered in her ear. “Mother, that time I was not qualified to advise the little one because I too, was same like him, eating a lot of sugar myself two weeks ago.”

    And then there’s this line by the late Larry Josephson: “Discussing the Mahatma with a four-year-old is like taking Gandhi from a baby.”

    There’s a great very old New Yorker cartoon by George Booth of a battle scene from the Revolutionary War. The British have a line of drummers marching towards the fighting accompanying the soldiers who are going to enter the fray. And in the corner there is one drummer peeling away from the battle: marching off towards the edge of the page, but still drumming.

    I conjure up the image because some drummers are starting to peel away from Trump. There’s MTG, of course. And now there’s Rep. Troy Nehls of Texas. Nehls is clearly on the lunatic fringe, which is saying a lot these days. He co-sponsored legislation to put Trump on the $100 bill and to rename DC’s airport after him. He came under fire for not coming under fire, i.e., misrepresenting his military record (“stolen valor”), and was accused on the air of rudeness by CNN’s Erin Burnett. Well, according to historian Heather Cox Richardson, he announced he won’t be running for reelection. The reason? All together now: He wants to focus on his family. Owl Chatter supports Nehl’s decision to focus on his family.

    And here’s Erin.

    Baruch atah Adonai. That’s how many prayers begin, “Adonai” being a term in Hebrew for The Big Fella. It literally means “Our Lord.” Well, God was smiling down on his namesake at Met Life Stadium yesterday: Adonai Mitchell. It generally does take divine intervention for the Jets to win. Mitchell was thought to be a “throw in” when the Jets traded Sauce Gardner to the Colts for draft picks. But he was a key part of the deal for the Jets and he showed why yesterday, snaring 8 catches for 102 yards and a TD.

    Mitchell is 23, from Texas, 6′ 2″, 205 lbs, and droolingly handsome, amirite girls? We’ll be keeping an eye on the young man here at Owl Chatter. Good game, AD!

    Thanks for stopping in! See you tomorrow!

  • Wharf Cats and Barge Dogs

    When I lived in Rochester NY (the dark years) I took some English courses at U of Rochester. One prof (Joseph Summers) invited our (small) class to his home for dinner one evening. I remember him asking if we knew what poets talk about when they get together. I said “money?” (not kidding) He said they talk about sounds — how words sound.

    This poem from yesterday’s Writer’s Almanac is by Marianne Moore and is called “Dock Rats.”

    There are human beings who seem to regard the place as craftily 
       as we do—who seem to feel that it is a good place to come 
       home to. On what a river; wide—twinkling like a chopped sea under some 
             of the finest shipping in the

    world: the square-rigged four-master, the liner, the battleship, like the two- 
        thirds submerged section of an iceberg; the tug—strong moving thing, 
        dipping and pushing, the bell striking as it comes; the steam yacht, lying 
              like a new made arrow on the

    stream; the ferry-boat—a head assigned, one to each compartment, making 
        a row of chessmen set for play. When the wind is from the east, 
        the smell is of apples; of hay, the aroma increased and decreased 
             suddenly as the wind changes;

    of rope; of mountain leaves for florists. When it is from the west, it is 
        an elixir. There is occasionally a parakeet 
        arrived from Brazil, clasping and clawing; or a monkey—tail and feet 
             in readiness for an over-

    ture. All palms and tail; how delightful! There is the sea, moving the bulk- 
        head with its horse strength; and the multiplicity of rudders 
        and propellers; the signals, shrill, questioning, peremptory, diverse; 
             the wharf cats and the barge dogs—it

    is easy to overestimate the value of such things. One does 
        not live in such a place from motives of expediency 
        but because to one who has been accustomed to it, shipping is the 
             most congenial thing in the world.

    Marianne Moore was from Missouri and passed away in 1972 at the age of 84. Her dad suffered a psychotic episode and her parents separated before she was born. She never met her father. She attended Bryn Mawr, and, get this — majored in history, economics, and political science. Among numerous other achievements, she won the Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award.

    From our You Can’t Make This Stuff Up Dept. You know those six folks who reminded our military not to obey “unlawful” orders? The FBI is investigating them. The claim is that since Trump has never issued an unlawful order, the six were actually telling soldiers to disobey “lawful” orders.

    Okay. Let me just make sure I’m clear on this. “Don’t obey unlawful orders” really means “Don’t obey lawful orders.” And that’s treason so they should be put to death.

    Got it. Thanks.

    At Owl Chatter, we support our staff. So we trudged into Newark to cheer our Sports Consultant Sarah (Fillier) on, as her NY Sirens of the Pro Women’s Hockey League took on the Vancouver Goldeneyes in the home opener in Newark yesterday. What a great game!! The Sirens won 5-1, with SF scoring a gorgeous goal. It was a great scene. We sat behind one of the goals but were able to catch all the action at the other end on the giant screen. At one point the fans in our section started shouting “Cream of Mushroom,” which morphed into “Chicken Noodle.” I was trying to make sense out of what seemed like an unusual home fan tradition when I noticed the Vancouver goalie was named Campbell. The folks right behind us proposed minestrone but it wasn’t taken up. To be honest, Campbell, who let in all five goals, was in the soup all game.

    The Sirens play in the Prudential Center, a beautiful arena where the NHL’s Jersey Devils play. The ice is impeccably maintained. A pair of Zambonis groom it in between periods, and play is stopped as necessary to allow the crew to sweep up teeth and body parts that come loose during the course of play.

    It was $30 a ticket for great seats and you could park on the street just a few blocks away for free. Can’t beat it for a great game. Here’s a shot of the action Phil got for us, followed by our Sarah, gorgeous as always.

    And here is a goldeneye, the inspiration for the Vancouver team name. Fiercely protective, they are a familiar presence along Vancouver’s waterways and coastlines, known for their speed, strength, and synchrony.

    Here’s a clue running a little late behind Halloween yesterday. It was at 23D: “Prominent features on goblin sharks.” Answer: NOSES. They are creepy-looking as hell. I’m going to spare you a photo. It’s a rare species of deep-sea shark. Sometimes called a “living fossil,” it is the only extant representative of a lineage some 125 million years old. It’s typically as long as 13 feet when fully grown.

    Also never heard of K.T. OSLIN: “1988 Best Country Song Grammy winner for ‘Hold Me.’” Sorry to learn she passed away in 2020 at the age of 78.

    There is a small class of jokes we can call “famous last words.” I like them. My two favorites are “I wonder where the mother bear is” and “Watch this!” I made up a new one today! “Laughter is the best cure.”

    I read the “Modern Love” column in the Sunday NYT Style section only sporadically. Today’s is by Brent Chaim Spodek. Here is a chunk of it.

    The second time I married my wife, she was hooked up to IVs at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan, her skin gray from chemotherapy. I was at our home, 75 miles away, caring for our two small children. I had tremendous help from my mother-in-law, Hazel, who was also giving us her 10-year-old Toyota Corolla.

    Hazel thought her daughter’s name should also be on the title. I thought Alison, who had been diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia six months earlier, did not need to be bothered with paperwork.

    “It has to be in both of your names,” Hazel said. “I’m not giving the car to just you.”

    “Hazel,” I said. “If I were going to leave, I’d have done it already. You think I’m sticking around for the Corolla?”

    *******

    Alison recovers and the story has a happy ending. Brent is a rabbi and counsels couples preparing to get married. So I guess it makes sense that Alison and Brent work hard at their marriage — they do a lot of serious talking specifically about it.

    Linda and I don’t do any of that stuff. I guess we either gave up long ago, or don’t feel the need to “work” at it. I’m too fucking lazy, for one thing. But I don’t mind playing with it. Every so often I will say “We can’t go on like this,” or “This marriage is unbearable,” and it always gets a laugh. Sometimes I say, “You know, we should get married,” and Linda says “We are married.” And I say “You’re kidding!” Never gets old.

    There. That’s my Modern Love story.

    Phil said he enjoyed shooting actress Zosia MAMET, who was in the puzzle today, making it harder than David would have. He said she has an interesting and honest face.

    David is her dad. Her mom is actress Lindsay Crouse. She was born in Vermont, is 37, and went into acting after HS instead of going to college. She’s been married to actor Evan Jonigkeit since 2016. Here’s Ev.

    Jets 27, Falcons 24. Could you plotz? It ended on a 56-yard field goal by veteran kicker Nick Folk. But it was backup QB Tyrod Taylor, excelling repeatedly under pressure, who gets the game ball, IMO. A good win.

    Soak it in, Baby. This is rare sh*t.

    The old Eco major in me was happy to see 33A yesterday: “So-called ‘father of macroeconomics.’” John Maynard KEYNES, of course! Did you know his wife’s name was Candace and their friends called her Candy Keynes. (No it wasn’t.)

    But the best clue yesterday was one of the best clues ever. It came at 44A, and kudos to constructor Adrian Johnson: “Musical production that might include grunts, groans, thwops, snorts and barks.” (Thwops!) Yes! It’s my Uncle Morty trying to sing Hava Nagila at his daughter Marlene’s bat mitzvah! No, it’s WHALESONG. Got eleven seconds?

    Here’s an exchange that arose:

    Anony Mouse said: I think “musical” implies aesthetic intentionality. I wonder if whales are capable of this or if their “song” is us anthropomorphizing what amounts to a basic form of communication.

    Dr. Random: I think since part of the purpose is attracting mates (among others), it’s fair to attribute some kind of aesthetic intentionality.

    Okay. Thanks guys (or gals).

    38D yesterday was “Axolotl lookalikes,” and the answer was NEWTS. But this ruffled the scales of Anony Mouse who said they look nothing alike! Can it be? He or she noted they are both salamanders but insists they look nothing alike. I’m hardly the one to resolve this, but my exhaustive research (you know, a minute or two online) came up with this photo.

    Today’s puzzle by the brilliant Natan Last defeated me. I just couldn’t break two small areas. One clue that eluded me was 65A: “Gay rights activist Marsha P. Johnson, for one.” Answer: TRANS ICON. A Jersey girl, Marsha was born in Elizabeth. But she died in NYC at the age of only 46 back in 1992. Here is the first paragraph of her Wikipedia writeup.

    Marsha was an American LGBTQ activist, sex worker, and performer. Sometimes known as the “Saint of Christopher Street,” she is considered an important figure in the LGBTQ and transgender rights movements due to her involvement in the Stonewall riots, her work with Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR), and her advocacy for people with AIDS.

    She was born Malcolm and first dressed as a girl at the age of 5. She was the drum major for her school’s marching band and joined the Navy but was honorably discharged after she punched a man who tried to sexually assault her. When the Stonewall police raid started Johnson threw a shot glass at a mirror, screaming, “I got my civil rights!” Members of the Gay Activists Alliance later considered this the “shot glass heard around the world.”

    Thanks for putting her in the puzzle, Natan. Rest in peace, girl.

    It didn’t help that TRANS ICON was crossed by 12D: “First Eurodance hit in the U.S. (1989).” PUMP UP THE JAM. I expect to not know songs often, but when an entire genre eludes me that’s bad. Eurodance? Anyway, I really like it.

    Clever clues I also missed were “Chop house?” for DOJO (think karate chops), and “In the majority?” for ADULT. The question marks tip you off that there’s something fishy going on, but gornisht helfn.

    OK, Phil. Very pretty. Now just slowly back away and get out of the dojo in one piece.

    Let’s end tonight with some art, courtesy of constructor Natan Last. At 26D the clue was “John who painted ‘Backyards, Greenwich Village.’” Answer: SLOAN. Any of you art people hear of him? Bob? It’s from 1914. He was a founder of the Ashcan School of American art. He grew up in Philly and went to Central HS where his classmate was Albert Barnes of the Barnes Foundation with its great art collection. He had a helluva run, way beyond any treatment we could give him here in OC. He met his wife Dolly in a brothel, every man’s dream. (Just kidding, probably.) They were married for over 40 years until her death. Then he married a former student, 40 years younger than him, every man’s dream. (Just kidding, maybe.)

    Oy, enough nonsense!! See you tomorrow.

  • House Wine

    The following post appeared on our neighborhood message site. It troubles me a bit because we use Summit Health and it seems to be going downhill in some ways.

    It was posted by Nancy H.

    “I was attempting to schedule an appointment today with a doctor at Summit Health. The ‘person’ handling my call didn’t sound like a real person, but more like a robot. Apparently, Summit Health is using AI to respond to routine calls like scheduling appointments. So I really was talking to a robot. I now think I could have asked to speak with a real person, but at the time I thought maybe I was being silly. But I wasn’t. It was an unnerving experience, because she asked how I was, and made a sympathetic comment when I said I wasn’t feeling well.”

    I replied: How do we know you’re a real person?

    At 3D in the puzzle today the clue was “Setting of the 1888 painting ‘Café Terrace at Night.’” The answer was ARLES. It led Commenter James to share this haunting, beautiful song with us: “Spinning Away,” by John Cale and Brian Eno.

    Up on a hill
    As the day dissolves
    With my pencil turning moments into line . . .

    And here is the painting by VG. Don’t bother looking for his John Hancock. He didn’t sign it.

    It was an artsy puzzle today, with ART TATUM in the grid too, clued with “Jazz pianist with a memorable recording of ‘Tea for Two.’” How ignorant am I? Well, I heard of him enough to solve the puzzle but had no idea what he looked like or sounded like. Happily, Commenter Lewis helped on both accounts. Got two minutes?

    At 5D, ST. DENIS was the “Bishop for whom a neighborhood in Paris is named.” When things start getting rough, it’s best to keep your head about you and Denny held on to his fairly tightly.

    According to Wikipedia, “Denis is the most famous cephalophore in Christian history.” If I just saw the word and had to guess what it meant, I think I’d guess whale hunter. But that’s way the hell off. In fact, a cephalophore has a pretty specific meaning: it’s a saint who is carrying his severed head. To be more precise: who is “depicted as” carrying it. It made me wonder – were there so many of them that it was worth making up a special word for them? Well, there were over 60 of them, smarty pants, including Justinian of Ramsey Island (not to be confused with Shlomo of Staten Island).

    And just when you thought it was all classy and stuff with Art Tatum, Van Gogh, and St. Denis, it got down and dirty at 21A: “James in the National Rhythm & Blues Hall of Fame.” Who doesn’t love this tune? Turn it up!

    If all that isn’t enough, two actresses popped by: FAYE Marsay, and NAOMI Watts. Hey girls — sorry, it’s a madhouse here today — the puzzle just had too much going on all at once. You could lose your head! Clear some crap off the couch, and grab a Diet Coke. George should be around here somewhere. Georgie!! Company!! You’ll plotz!

    You may know Faye from “Game of Thrones.” Here’s a pretty intense shot of her.

    And we’ve been a fan of Naomi Watts from all over the place for years. Beautiful shot, Philly.

    Naomi is British. Her dad was a road manager and audio engineer for Pink Floyd, but died when she was only 8 of an apparent drug overdose. She was partnered with the late Heath Ledger and then, for 11 years, with Liev Schreiber, with whom she had two children. She’s been married to actor Billy Crudup since 2023. Here’s one of her kids, Kai Schreiber, who is transgender. Kai is a model and actress.

    The clue at 49A was “Restaurant sommelier’s offering,” and the answer was HOUSE WINE. I often jokingly refer to a carafe of wine as a giraffe of wine. Hysterical, I know. So, many years ago, Linda and I were uncharacteristically at a very fancy restaurant by our standards. Lots of extra silverware I had no idea what to do with, for example. And our intent was to order a carafe of the house wine. But when it was up to me to tell that to the waitress, I must have had a brain glitch or something because I very seriously said to her: “and we’d like a giraffe of your house wine.” She looked at me for a few seconds and said “I know what you mean.” (I told that story in class often to make a point on the importance of using correct terminology.)

    We’ll end with this very troubling item from The Onion:

    42 Million Dead In Bloodiest Black Friday Weekend On Record

    New York—According to emergency personnel, early estimates indicate that more than 42 million Americans were killed this past weekend in what is now believed to be the bloodiest Black Friday shopping event in history.

    First responders reporting from retail stores all across the nation said the record-breaking post-Thanksgiving shopping spree carnage began as early as midnight on Friday, when 13 million shoppers were reportedly trampled, pummeled, burned, stabbed, shot, lanced, and brutally beaten to death while attempting to participate in early holiday sales events.

    Law enforcement officials said the bloodbath only escalated throughout the weekend as hordes of savage holiday shoppers began murdering customers at Wal-Mart, Sears, and JCPenney locations nationwide, leaving piles of dismembered and mutilated corpses in their wake.

    Survivors of the deadly holiday sales event said that while the weekend began as a chance to “get in on some unbeatable post-Thanksgiving deals,” it quickly escalated into a merciless, no-hold-barred fight to the death.

    “At some point in time we all stopped caring about the deals and the holiday shopping and were pretty much just out for blood,” said Dana Marshall, 37, a Target shopper who suffered seven broken ribs and a cracked sternum while fighting two other customers for a discounted Nikon digital camera. “I remember just sitting on top of a woman and smacking her head with a DVD player until her face was completely unrecognizable. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

    See you next time!

  • Hook and Tumble

    This poem by Mary Oliver from today’s Writer’s Almanac is the perfect way to open Owl Chatter’s Thanksgiving Day cornucopia of nonsense. It’s called “Winter and the Nuthatch.”

    Once or twice and maybe again, who knows,
    the timid nuthatch will come to me
    if I stand still, with something good to eat in my hand.
    The first time he did it
    he landed smack on his belly, as though
    the legs wouldn’t cooperate. The next time
    he was bolder. Then he became absolutely
    wild about those walnuts.

    But there was a morning I came late and, guess what,
    the nuthatch was flying into a stranger’s hand.
    To speak plainly, I felt betrayed.
    I wanted to say: Mister,
    that nuthatch and I have a relationship.
    It took hours of standing in the snow
    before he would drop from the tree and trust my fingers.
    But I didn’t say anything.

    Nobody owns the sky or the trees.
    Nobody owns the hearts of birds.
    Still, being human and partial therefore to my own successes—
    though not resentful of others fashioning theirs—

    I’ll come tomorrow, I believe, quite early.

    Mary Oliver was from Ohio and passed away in 2019 at the age of 83. She lived for over 40 years mostly in Provincetown MA with her partner, the photographer Molly Malone Cook, of whom she said “I took one look [at Cook] and fell, hook and tumble.” Here’s Mary. Isn’t she beautiful?

    The puzzle today featured the theme “Square the circle.” There were three circled squares that you were supposed to fill in with the words for numbers. You would use a rebus to do that: that’s when you smoosh more than one letter into a square. So, at 43A, the clue was “Process for a descending spacecraft” and the answer was EAR[TH REE]NTRY. And the letters spelling out “three” were all placed in a single square as a rebus. That was an across answer. Then! Going down, through that circled square, you used the (math) square of three, which is nine to get the down answer. Get it? Have I confused you? Going down through the circle the clue was “Gloomy, as an atmosphere,” and the answer was SATUR[NINE], with the “nine” appearing as a rebus within the same circle you used before for the three. So you “squared the circle” by converting the three in it into nine, its square. That happened three times: a two across became a four down, and a one across stayed a one down because the square of one is one. Whew. That wasn’t easy. Give me a cookie.

    Among the commentariat, the issue of what is the plural for rebus sometimes arises. Bob M. started it today with “Just curious…the plural of alumnus is alumni…ergo, is the plural of rebus rebi?”

    tht replied with:

    We’re going to have that discussion again?!?! Since it’s Thanksgiving and everyone is relaxed, we could make a drinking game out of it. Every time someone says “rebodes,” do a shot.

    More seriously and soberly: the Latin word rebus is already a plural form (in the ablative case), so the only thing to do is try not to give away the fact you don’t know Latin, by trying to fake it with “rebi”. (It’s sort of like pretending to form the plural of “agenda” as “agendae”, not realizing that “agenda” in Latin is already plural, with “agendum” as its singular.) In my opinion, the only sensible response is to treat “rebus” as English, and pluralize it as “rebuses”. But that’s no fun, is it?

    Anony Mouse added:

    Rebus actually is a plural, funnily enough. I knew this – it’s one of the endings drilled into you in Latin, but not how it was used in this sense. I just looked it up thanks to your comment! Comes from the phrase “non verbis sed rebus” or “not by words but by things” as in the sense of those puzzles where pictures and letters combine ( with ‘+”s and ‘-‘s) to make a saying. How it was first applied to xwords isn’t clear to me.

    Finally, I added:

    Thanks! How does it work in Yiddish?

    KREBS CYCLE? SRSLY? I’m supposed to know Krebs Cycle is “Essential biochemical process that releases energy in cells?” Can’t complain, though, because the crosses were pretty easy. BTW, when I googled it I found that there are two bike shops on Long Island called Kreb Cycle. (Not kidding.)

    Phil! Don’t follow this girl into the woods!! The last time you did that you came back without pants!

    You know how when you throw out your garbage in some places like Whole Foods, it’s like a test — you need to figure out what category of garbage it is, e.g., garbage, compost, or recycling? True confessions — I may give it a moment’s thought, but the science is too deep for me so I just pick one at random. If I glance in I generally notice that no one else pays attention to the categories either. So I figure the whole three-part system is just a scam. But maybe not! I receive a newsletter on minor league baseball and the latest one raved about the team and stadium out in Spokane WA: the Spokane Indians in the Colorado Rockies system who play in Avista Stadium. But, wait a minute — isn’t it insulting for a team to be named the “Indians?” Cleveland changed to the Guardians. Well, it’s kosher in Spokane:

    “The city of Spokane is named for the Spokane tribe, the first people to live in the region. Professional baseball has been played here since the 1890s, with almost every team using the Indians name. In 2006, the baseball team and the Spokane Tribe announced a groundbreaking partnership that included logos and signage featuring the tribe’s Salish language script. Salish can now be found all over the ballpark, including the primary home jersey.”

    Okay, what does any of that have to do with throwing out garbage at Whole Foods? I’m getting there, I’m getting there, — sheesh.

    So when Benjamin Hill (who writes the newsletter) visited Spokane the team scheduled him for a whole bunch of activities including the following: He dressed as a mascot (below), rolled hot dogs for a hot dog promotion, AND he spent a few innings on Compost Corner duty.

    Stadium employees actually sort through all the garbage to make sure it’s properly categorized! Amazing. That’s Ben on the right.

    Bottom line: If you’re ever out in Spokane try to take in an Indians game. It sounds like a gorgeous stadium and a terrific operation. And you can feel good about your garbage getting to where it belongs.

    Back to the puzzle, if you’re at all like me (God forbid) you haven’t the slightest interest in ever going to one of those medieval faires, amirite? The closest I want to come to one is in a puzzle, like today at 33D where the clue was “______ Faire (medieval-themed festival).” The answer, of course, was REN. It lit a bit of a light under Eng. Prof. Rex. Here he goes:

    The clue is designed to make someone like me (a medievalist) nuts. Do you know what REN stands for? Do you know what it’s short for? I think you do. And if you do, then maybe you too had a little twinge of “huh?” when you wrote in this answer. See, the “RENaissance” (so-called) is, explicitly, specifically, self-importantly, not “medieval.” Not not not. The Middle Ages (whence the word “medieval”—from L. medium aevum, “middle age”) are the allegedly benighted period that the Renaissance was supposedly leaving behind. Thus the Renaissance is, by definition, subsequent to the “medieval” period. To say that a REN(naissance) Faire is “medieval-themed” … the nails-on-chalkboard effect was real and jarring. But then … it looks like the people who put on and go to these “faires” don’t give a **** about such niceties as terminological accuracy. “Many Renaissance fairs are set during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I of England. Some are set earlier, during the reign of Henry VIII, or in other countries, such as France. Others are set outside the era of the Renaissance; these may include earlier medieval periods such as the Viking Age or later periods such as the Golden Age of Piracy” (wikipedia). I get that everyone collapses the olden days into one giant Time of Yore and that actual historical periodicity is entirely an invention of historians writing (generally) well after the times in question, and that shifts from one time to another are actually gradual and involve continuity as well as rupture blah blah blah. But where labels are concerned, “REN” is not not not not “medieval.” Not. No. Stop.

    [So . . . just what are you getting at?]

    I don’t know, Rex — this fair young maiden seems to be eyeing you askance.

    Let’s close with some headlines from the Thanksgiving edition of The Onion:

    Weird Wooden Chair Pressed Into Service For Thanksgiving

    Sweet Potato Dish Stopped Being Healthy 5 Ingredients Ago

    Grandma Thankfully Dies Before Sister’s Girlfriend Arrives

    Happy Thanksgiving Chatterheads! Thanks for popping in!

  • Scream Queen

    On this date in 1942 FDR instituted gas rationing for the U.S. Get this, though, it wasn’t to save gas, we had plenty of that. It was to save rubber. Japan had taken over the rubber plantations. More driving meant a greater demand for tires, so we had to keep driving down. Hence the gas rationing. Posters went up asking “Is this trip necessary?” This one startled me a bit: A poster pushing car pooling said: When you ride alone you ride with Hitler. Yikes. Phil said that would still be better than riding with his brother-in-law. On the other hand, with the government these days moving to classify the swastika as equivalent to a smiley-face, maybe we shouldn’t be too hard on the Nazis.

    In the Credit Where Due Dept, let’s note the key role Lauren Boebert played in last week’s Epstein saga. At 44D today the answer was LAUREN, so she came to mind, even though the clue was for Ralph: “Big name in upscale fashion.” Plus she’s pretty hot for a Congressperson. Hey, girl — your old pal Georgie is upstairs. Grab a cold Diet Coke and run up and surprise him!

    OMG, she can really crack you up sometimes.

    Remember when the Stein was Wein, before it was Ep? Sh*t, Epstein makes Harvey Weinstein look like Mister Rogers.

    Today’s puzzle was a wonderful paean to bad movies. Sorta. The theme featured funny pans by Roger Ebert. A good one at 43A was: “A two-hour movie squeezed into three hours” (2001). Answer: PEARL HARBOR. Another was “Like taking a bus trip with someone who has needed a bath for a long time” (2000), for BATTLEFIELD EARTH.

    Commenter Lewis added these to the pile:

    To call “A Lot Like Love” dead in the water is an insult to water. (2005)

    On the movie “Mr. Magoo”: There is not a laugh in it. Not one. I counted. (1997)

    On the movie “Masterminds”: I stopped taking notes on my Palm Pilot and started playing the little chess game. (1997)

    An email I received from The Onion today, hocking me to subscribe started: “Autumn is often a time of reflection: Why didn’t I plant more sorghum? . . . .”

    It has nothing to do with periodontics. Here’s a photo.

    Jenna of “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” at 46D is Jenna ORTEGA. She’s 23 and from California, of mostly Mexican descent. Her work in horror films has dubbed her the “scream queen.” From humble beginnings, she has been acting since the age of 9. We’re going to go out on a limb here and predict her looks will not stand in her way.

    Tough game for our Sirens of the PWHL last night, losing to Montreal 4-0. It’s early in the season, though, and the many new players on the roster have to get to know each other. Our Sarah looked good, as usual — just couldn’t get anything past that Victoire goalie. We’ll be at the home opener on Saturday. Full report to follow.

    “You’re churning butter! No, you’re a monkey! You’re operating a loom! Come on, what is it?”

    Happy Thanksgiving! Welly and Wilma are thankful they’re not turkeys. And so are we!

  • Hang Down Your Head Tom Dula

    At Baltimore Ravens games you can order from the “Flock Friendly” menu: a selection of items that are reasonably priced. A decent hot dog for $3.50 and a 12-ounce beer for $5 are terrific values at a ballpark. As much as I love beer, I refuse to pay $15 (or more!) for one at a stadium. So we decided to have lunch at the Jets/Ravens game. We’d have a dog each, share the pulled-chicken sandwich (for $5), and I’d have a beer. I placed my order with the fresh-faced young man. He pulled out a can of Lite beer and we conversed as follows:

    Him: Is Lite okay?

    Me: What are the choices?

    Him: There are no choices.

    Me: Lite’s okay.

    The dogs were very good, although we noticed a thinner condiment array than at Nationals Park: no relish, and only yellow mustard. Still, they were great, as was my ice-cold Lite beer. The chicken sandwich was pretty weak. We would not have that again. I would not push the pulled chicken. Release that chicken unharmed, fellas!

    What?

    Oh, the game? For a Jets game it was surprisingly not horribly embarrassing. We led at the half! Just 7-3, but still. And even though we lost 23-10, we beat the spread, which was 13.5 points — take that, gambling establishment!! Also, impressively, we gained more total yards than the birds did. That means the Ravens struggled a bit against our defense, and we had a few decent drives. The darkest, most Jetsian, moment, came about halfway through the last quarter. We were losing 20-10, but drove beautifully all the way down to the three-yard line: a terrific drive. At that point, however, for some reason, rather than score a touchdown making the score 20-17 and giving us hope, the Jets elected to fumble the ball away, essentially ending the f*cking thing.

    Arggggh. But, as I said, it was a much better effort than any Jets fan ever has any reason to hope for.

    You think your team has cheerleaders? Next to Baltimore, it doesn’t have sh*t. Fuhgedaboutit.

    Our parking plan worked to perfection. Since it was Sunday, we parked on a street downtown for free (!) and took a 35-minute pleasant walk to the Stadium. Can’t beat that. And the weather was perfect: 60 and sunny! Continuing our good fortune, the pizza place we found online in Little Italy after the game was outstanding. Angeli’s on High Street. Great little neighborhood place. Terrific local IPA too.

    Thank you Baltimore!

    From Charm City to the Big Apple. Here’s an item from Sunday’s Met Diary by David Daniel called “Savor the Moment.”

    Dear Diary:

    Late to work on a cold, sunny, spring morning, I decided to take a shortcut through Madison Square Park.

    With the sound of traffic and barking dogs behind me, I joined the meeting I was late for via phone and hoped that I would not have to speak.

    As it got later, I started to sweat from what had turned into a jog to First Avenue. Dodging the dog walkers, I saw a single white flower petal twirling gently as it fell from the sky.

    I stopped and stood still. The sound of traffic, dogs and my meeting seemed to fade away. I was amazed at the beauty of the single, pristine, delicate white petal as it danced through the cool spring air toward the ground.

    In my haste to get to work, I had failed to appreciate the beauty of my surroundings: the dogs, the people, the flowers, even the traffic.

    The petal landed, and I picked it up. It was clearly a sign that I needed to appreciate the beauty around me, no matter how stressed out I was feeling.

    But it wasn’t a flower petal. It was a discarded receipt from the M23-SBS Bus.

    And I was late for work.

    Can you handle one more? This is by Karen Ocker and is called “Flat Fixed.” Earns a “wow” from us.

    Dear Diary:

    I was a young woman driving north by myself on Interstate 87 through the Bronx.

    Suddenly, one of the tires blew out, and I couldn’t change it.

    I turned off at the nearest exit and looked for a service station but couldn’t find one.

    I pulled onto a local street and asked a man walking there for help. He agreed and proceeded to change the tire.

    At some point, I noticed that he was changing it with one hand. He was missing his other arm.

    The puzzle today started off with a wonderful clue at 1D: “‘No’ was a famously short one for the 1948 musical ‘Isn’t It Romantic?’” Answer: REVIEW. I’m guessing the “No” served two functions: No, don’t see the damn thing, and No, it isn’t romantic.

    It reminded me of a Pauline Kael review. The movie was “Tomorrow” (1972) and starred Robert Duvall. It started: “‘Tomorrow’ proves that a movie doesn’t have to be long to be tedious.” (But I saw it and liked it.) Here’s RD, with the female lead, Olga Bellin.

    Anony Mouse chimed in with: I liked the review of the 1951 Broadway play “I Am a Camera” by John Van Druten which was adapted from Christopher Isherwood’s 1939 novel “Goodbye to Berlin.” The two-word appraisal simply stated: “No Leica.”

    Another Anony Mouse picked some serious nits. At 34A the clue was “Part of a hammer or a hawk,” and the answer was CLAW. Here’s the comment: “The worst thing in the puzzle was conflating CLAWs with talons, which is what hawks actually have. It’s like people who use monkey and chimpanzee interchangeably.” 

    We couldn’t agree more. They should be taken out and horse-whipped!

    A claw is a pointed, curved nail or appendage found on the digits of many animals. They may be used for scratching, digging, grasping, or climbing. On the other hand [hand?], a talon is the claw of a bird of prey, particularly those adapted for capturing and killing prey. While many animals, including cats, dogs, and reptiles, possess claws, only raptors, such as eagles, hawks, and owls, boast talons.

    These owls are very talonted.

    Any of you hear of Addison RAE? Not me. But apparently she’s famous enough to make it into a Tuesday puzzle. (She’s usually supplanted by Issa.) Addison is 25 and achieved stardom via popularity on TikTok. As of this year, she has 88 million followers, fifth most all time. She signed with Columbia Records and has released an album and has been in a few movies.

    She dated Omer Fedi for four years, an Israeli musician based in LA, but they split amicably. Phil has asked her to marry him, but only twice. He’s hopeful, because she hasn’t gone for a restraining order yet.

    No need to hang down your head if you didn’t know the song at 38A. The clue was “Traditional folk song that became a #1 hit for the Kingston Trio,” and the answer was TOM DOOLEY. I remember the song very well, a big hit for the Kingston Trio. It’s a North Carolina folk song, based on the 1866 murder of a woman named Laura Foster for which Tom Dula (pronounced Dooley, like opera is opry) was convicted and hung. On the gallows, he stated: “Gentlemen, do you see this hand? I didn’t harm a hair on the girl’s head.” Foster may have been killed by Dula’s lover (her cousin Anne) out of jealousy, and Dula may have been protecting her. Whatever. Who cares? But I was interested to learn this from Rex Commenter Andy F.:

    TOM DOOLEY is just one of many, many, A LOT OF murder ballads. They were a big deal in England and spread to America. “Frankie and Johnnie” is probably the best known, also based on a true story. Songs were the way sensationalistic news traveled back in the day. [OC note: You may be more familiar with the Yiddish version “Frankie and Yitzhak.”]

    Commenter jae wrote: “TOM DOOLEY should be a gimme for those of a certain age.” And Anony Mouse shot back: “Yes, ninety something!”

    Ouch.

    Sunday’s puzzle had some cute stuff in it. The theme asked us to switch the first two letters of a word in a famous phrase, for humorous effect. The best, IMO, was for the clue “Certain vacation booking in Madrid?” And the answer was SPANISH RAMADA. Get it? Instead of “Spanish Armada.”

    It doesn’t take much in this space to conjure up a John Prine song.

    It takes a lot to make Mitch McConnell look good, but every time Trump gives Putin a blow job McConnell’s stock goes up. It’s clear why Trump runs after the murderous Saudi schmuck: he’s getting showered with money. But Trump’s sycophancy to Putin is true love. Brandeis alum Tom Friedman is not the first to liken DJT on Ukraine to Neville Chamberlain. He quoted the WSJ today in opining that it will backfire on Trump: “If Trump thinks American voters hate war, wait until he learns how much they hate dishonor.” Hope so.

    This poem by Baron Wormser is called “The O’s.” How fitting, given our recent visit to Baltimore. It was in today’s Writer’s Almanac.

    My grandfather is lying in the hospital bed
    Listening to the radio every night.
    It’s the second week of the season; he’s an Orioles fan
    Ever since the O’s came to Baltimore
    In 1954—but it’s 1988 and they lose game
    After game after game after game after game.

    My grandfather’s face looks like a hardball hit it—
    Black and blue and yellow. It’s cancer
    That tie dyes you in muted shades so you
    Wind up looking like a hung-over toad,
    Which is no big thing to my grandfather
    Who drank too much and smoked way too much—

    Cigars—but never was vain, never was
    A look-in-the-mirror type but always grabbed
    His hat and said he was ready. Grandpa’s got a month
    At the most, according to the oncologist who spoke as if
    He were putting down a deuce at Pimlico.
    Grandpa knows this, which is to say it’s not

    The dogwoods or forsythia or magnolias he’s going to miss,
    Not the newly mown grass or the crab soup his long time
    Paramour, Bessie, still makes even though Grandpa can’t
    Eat much of anything anymore; he’s a slave to tubes.
    It’s the losing streak that he can’t abide because they’re
    Bound to win one, sooner or later the announcer’s
    Voice is going to take off into the ozone of announcer
    Excitement with a whoosh and a wallop
    And the curse will be over. Losing is for losers and Grandpa,
    Who has spent his life making and taking bets,
    Hates losers. Inning by inning we sit listening
    And Grandpa knows it’s stupid, he knows

    He’s dying and he should be thinking about last things
    But he doesn’t know anything about last things.
    He hasn’t been in a shul in fifty years and his
    Only religion is the worship of the female body.
    He’s an idolater. A sack of calcified lust. I turn off
    The radio and the nurse looks in on the mostly gone man
    And his grandson sitting in the wan, fluorescent light
    That could have come from Macbeth it’s so
    Grievous and spectral and unhealthy. Death light.
    We aren’t saying anything, but Grandpa’s still alive
    And though the O’s have lost another there’s still
    Tomorrow. Grandpa closes his eyes when the nurse

    Comes in with a little paper cup filled with pills
    And I say that I’ve got to head home and grade some themes.
    He opens his watery hesitant eyes because he knows
    He might not see me again; he might not hear another
    “Here’s the first pitch.” “We’re not finished yet,” he rasps
    And I smile a smile I can’t help because he’s right.

    Enough. See you tomorrow Chatterheads!

  • Stickers!

    “To succeed in the world it is not enough to be stupid, you must also be well-mannered.” Amen to that, Voltaire. And Happy Birthday! (1694)

    An issue of pluralism arose in the puzzle today. At 56A the clue was “Aces” and the answer was HOLES IN ONE. Commenter Sam S. raised this issue: It seems to me that HOLESINONE requires the ball to drop into the hole from an initial tee shot, then immediately bounce out of the hole (with great vigor) and travel on its own power all the way down to the next green and drop into that hole, as well. One shot, two holes. Or did I miss something?

    Do you see his problem?

    I tried to address it with the following:

    I can see that happening in miniature golf.

    I think what distinguishes your “miracle” shot from the plural of the traditional hole in one are hyphens. Wikipedia says the traditional hole in one can either contain hyphens or not. And dictionaries seem to vary on the matter. Assuming the hyphens, a plural of the traditional hole-in-one would be holes-in-one, as in the puzzle today, with invisible hyphens. And the plural of your miracle shot would be holes in one, sans hyphens. (But since hyphens are not required for the traditional hole in one, there are obvious holes in my theory.)

    A later comment aptly noted that if the shot into the first hole bounces out and then goes into the second hole, the first hole would not count. But we’ve already gone far enough with this nonsense.

    It’s opening day for the PWHL: Professional Women’s Hockey League. Go get ’em girls! We already have tix for a few games. Can’t wait!

    No one believes me when I tell them how brutal these ladies are. This picture, below, was taken during the playing of the national anthems.

    I thought the clue at 9D today was very clever: “It may bring out the kid in you.” Answer: CESAREAN. But it ruffled some feathers. Some felt it was being too “cutesy” with a serious procedure that many women have to undergo, and were offended. A lot of humor is offensive. The comic (or here the constructor) has to decide where to draw the line. The puzzle was constructed by a woman (Joyce Keller), and women are well-represented on the NYT puzzle staff charged with editing it.

    The comic Mike Birbiglia in his excellent “Thank God for Jokes” addresses the issue of jokes that are offensive. He will be hosting an awards show and comes up with a bit that is hysterical but will be very offensive in some quarters and could harm his career. As he’s struggling with the decision to go with it or not, his wife chimes in with the observation that to be true to himself as a comedian he has to use it (and he does). Now, I’m not saying I’d be okay with crossing the lines on racism (use of the N-word, e.g.), misogyny, and the like, but in general I come down on the side of the comic. Or, in this case, the constructor.

    At 50D, the clue was a little weird: “They have five eyes and communicate by dancing.” Five eyes? Maybe a potato, except for the dancing? The Jackson Five? But they have ten eyes. The answer was BEES.

    It did not sit well with Commenter kitshef: The overwhelming majority of bee species do not dance. A few do, but cluing it as creatures with five eyes that do NOT dance to communicate would be a better description of almost all BEES.

    [A stinging rebuke!!]

    Commenter Les added: It’s time the other 90% stepped up and learned to dance. Sweat bees, mason bees, leafcutters, don your tap shoes and take to the streets!

    But dgd said: This is a crossword puzzle with clues: not dictionary-level descriptions. All it takes for the clue to be valid is that some bees dance. That happens all the time.

    Finally, Anoa Bob shared this: In 1973 the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine was jointly awarded to Karl von Frisch, Konrad Lorenz and Kikolaas Tinbergen. Von Frisch won for his study of the “waggle dance” of honey BEES that communicates to other BEES in the hive the direction and distance of food sources. Von Frisch made his discoveries in the 1920s. He ultimately had to stop his research with BEES. He had been stung so many times that he developed a hypersensitivity and even one more sting could have been lethal.

    These bees are dancing.

    The puzzle keeps throwing sexy movie stars at us. (Not complaining.) Today it’s Lea Michele. “Fanny Brice portrayer on Broadway.” Lea is 39, married with two kids, and is from the Bronx! Her dad is Jewish and a former deli owner and her mom is Italian and was an RN. She was raised Catholic.

    When’s the last time you were flirtatious? For me it was, let’s see — never? Anyway, a great old-fashioned way to say it might be to say, “she gave him a come hither look.” And that was in the puzzle today: Clue: “Flirtatious.” Answer: COME HITHER.

    In a case like that, you have to be careful as the constructor not to come up with the answer COME HITLER. So, e.g., you wouldn’t make the clue “Flirtatious in the Wehrmacht.”

    From The Onion:

    Paleontologists Unearth Earliest Known Dinosaur Stickers

    We’re heading down to Baltimore tomorrow and will be, insanely, attending the Jets/Ravens game on Sunday. Why do we subject ourselves to this? It’s part of the Jets fan syndrome. I guess it’s like not being able to turn away from a train wreck. Although most train wrecks aren’t nearly as bad as most Jet games. Oy.

    See you next time!

  • Tchaikovsky’s brother

    I am proposing that the following New Yorker cartoon replace the disgraced Coat of Arms of UPENN, my (law school) alma mater.

    “Let this be a reminder: when they go low, we cave.”

    Penn’s motto, laughably, is leges sine moribus vanae. “Laws without morals are useless.” That’s easy to fix: just remove vanae, and you’re left with “Laws without morals.” Done!

    I just received my copy of the 11/24/2025 issue. I no longer expect the cartoons to be funny. But several have taken a new turn: I simply don’t understand them. I can’t figure out how they were even trying to be funny.

    Take this Koren:

    “No, no, no—I want just one day, totally unscripted!”

    I haven’t the foggiest idea of what the hell is supposed to be going on. Anybody? I see the giant arm and the sports equipment. So?

    And this one — what the hell is supposed to be going on? Is it me?

    “Did you download enough podcasts?”

    One more. This one.

    “Wow—the horses are really little tonight.”

    What do they think could be funny? That the horses are small is a comedic idea? Didn’t they ride there on those horses? Were they bigger earlier?

    From The Onion:

    Gifted Khashoggi Head Mounted In Oval Office

    Man Hoping People Notice How Many Folding Chairs He’s Carrying At Once

    TALLAHASSEE, FL—Looking visibly flushed as he hurried across the gymnasium floor, local teacher Greg Tollefson reportedly hoped that everyone helping to clean up after Thursday morning’s assembly at Mangrove Hills High School would notice how many folding chairs he was carrying at once. “You can just leave those there—I’ll come back and get the rest,” said Tollefson, hoping that his addition of a fourth folding chair to the three already secured under each of his arms would be seen and admired by all. “Yeah, I got it. You guys can focus on packing up the AV equipment.” At press time, sources confirmed that Tollefson was fairly certain that at least a few people had noticed he had chosen the heavier metal chairs over the plastic stackable ones.

    Here is a recent post of mine from the Dull Men’s Club (UK):

    Hi. American here. Hope this issue is relevant over there.

    I made some lasagna yesterday and it came out fine. There were 15 pasta “sheets” in the package and I arranged them in four layers: 4-4-3-4. But the directions on the package implied I should have layered them 3-3-3-3-3. That is, deeper and less wide. I can try that next time, as an experiment, but am wondering if the esteemed membership (i.e., you) has any thoughts on the matter.

    (Photo is not actually of mine, but comes close size-wise. SWMBO and I dug into mine before I thought to raise the issue here.)

    [OC Note: SWMBO (acronym pronounced SWIMBO) stands for “she who must be obeyed.” It’s commonly used in the Club for one’s wife.]

    Comments:

    Andy Spragg: Ask yourself what is special about 4-4-3-4, as opposed to 3-4-4-4, 4-3-4-4, or indeed 4-4-4-3, and I suggest you will be well on the way to answering your own question.

    Avi: I must be a stupid ass. Your point is eluding me.

    Andy: You asked us if we had any thoughts on the matter. My comment provided you with mine.

    [Still puzzling to me, but I’m letting it go.]

    James Banks: Personally I favour 3-4-2-1 and I will never deviate from that, but then my other name is Ruben Amorim. [OC Note: That’s a soccer reference. Those numbers are how the players would be positioned.]

    Dave Henry: Shouldn’t you be asking the Italian chapter of the DMC?

    Bob Golding: if he does that he will get 25 answers all different.

    Nina Cassar: Ooh. Now I tend to only have three layers of pasta (don’t put one on the bottom like some do). But I like extra sheets on the top for the last top layer to sit on. I would arrange mine as follows:

    Top white sauce layer & lots of cheese
    PASTA (7)
    Meat layer
    PASTA (4)
    White sauce (cheese of course)
    PASTA (4)
    Meat Layer

    Avi: We could call it a Cassar-role!

    Tes Slater: Cooking is more an art form than a science. Science is involved but it is the artistry that makes it special.

    Avi: Agreed. But then how do we explain Picasso’s terrible meatloaves?

    Robert John Wilton: depends on size of dish but also depends on whether using oven-ready noodles or not. My lasagna pans work out to 3 side by side and one at the end sideways. Each layer I alternate which end has the cross piece to stablize the whole dealy. As for depth, I do four layers of noodles if making meat lasagna, whether beef or chicken. Between first two layers just sauce & cheese for a base, then beef & mushroom, or chicken & peas etc. between next layers. If just doing a simpler lasagna without a meat sauce, then I do 5 layers of noodles. Someone I know had square pans so they alternated the direction on each layer… some have sloped sides so it might be 3-3-4-4 etc.

    I loved the early Bond films and read some of the books. Fell off after Sean Connery stopped. One of the Bond girls was in the puzzle today. The clue was “Vesper Lynd portrayer in ‘Casino Royale.’” Wonder how many of the others are Jewish like EVA GREEN is.

    Eva is French, and Phil says she scared the sh*t out of him. Was it the eyes, Buddy?

    Actually, according to the website JEWORNOTJEW.COM, between 1971 and 1977 three of the four Bond girls were Jewish: Jill St. John, Jane Seymour, and Barbara Bach (who has been married to Ringo since 1981. Yes, that Ringo — what other Ringo is there?).

    Jill St. John was born Jill Oppenheim. She’s 85 now and has been married to Robert Wagner (who is 95), for 35 years. Kinehora. Showing no concern for stereotyping, Jill’s Wikipedia page says: “As a young girl, St. John says she never played with dolls, instead preferring a toy cash register and money.” Her dad owned a restaurant in Brooklyn. Her mom gave her the name St. John as a stage name, thinking it would sell better than Oppenheim.

    Hard to break Phil away from those bedhead shots.

    At 29D today, the clue was “Humor with an edge,” and the answer was BITING WIT. I posted the following on Rex’s blog:

    Another clue for BITING WIT could be “Dentist jokes.” You’re in luck (bad luck). I’ve got two.

    Just before the dentist started to work on Mrs. Johnson’s molar, she reached up and grabbed him by the nuts. He looked down at her, stunned. And she said: “Now, we’re not going to hurt each other, are we?”

    A Texan at the dentist.

    Dentist: Your teeth look fine, Mr. Baxter.

    Baxter: Drill anyway, Doc, I feel lucky.

    Our classical music host (on WQXR) just said “It’s World Philosophy Day. Or is it?”

    It is! UNESCO established it as the third Thursday in November. Philosophy-related activities are supposed to be organized, including, primarily, trying to figure out what a philosophy-related activity is.

    Yesterday, he referred to a piece as having been written by Tchaikovsky’s brother, which led me to wonder: Isn’t Tchaikovsky’s brother also Tchaikovsky?

    Okay, my brain hurts a little now.

    See you tomorrow Chatterheads! So glad you could pop by!

  • de Armas and Cruise Are So Dunzo

    The vomit-inducing warm embrace of the murderous Saudi prince by Trump yesterday was upended by the brilliant ABC reporter Mary Bruce with her pointed question about the killing. Trump, who had already stepped in sh*t by lauding the Saudi’s record on human rights (which is horrific, of course), rubbed it all over himself by defending the killer. The Saudi knew nothing about it, Trump lied, and anyway, the journalist who was killed (and dismembered), Jamal Khashoggi, was controversial and disliked by many. Follow the logic — so it was okay to kill him and chop him up? Even by Trumpian standards, it was an abhorrent display.

    Here’s Bruce. Happens to be gorgeous. Easy does it, though, fellas. She’s very happily married with two kids, Elvis and Eve. Hey kids — your Mom just got into the Owl Chatter Hall of Fame. Extra hug tonight!

    Did you catch a glimpse of Malaria in all the coverage? The green dress. Stunning. Goes for just $3,350, btw. Seems reasonable. But before we start qvelling over this one piece of that horror show, get this: the color choice was likely paying tribute to the Saudi guest. Their flag is the same green. So even that’s tainted.

    Loved the puzzle today! Brilliant wordplay. There was a double revealer. I.e., two answers explained the theme. First, at 36A the clue was “Straight-shooting,” and the answer was NO SPIN. Then, at 38A, the clue was “Sexually excite,” and the answer was TURN ON. So what’s the deal? You take the two letters N and O and turn, or spin, them. Now, when you turn the N, it becomes a Z. So “turning” ON, gives you ON, then OZ, then NO, then ZO. The puzzle did three complete turns. So all four of those combinations appeared in shaded boxes in words three times each. Symmetrically, too. Confusing? Maybe you can see it, below. (Ignore the blue squares.)

    One of the Zs was in DUNZO. A new word for me. The clue was “Finito or kaput.” Here’s how to use it: When Eddie saw Maxine kissing Lou, Eddie knew he and she were dunzo.

    Another Z was at 21A: “Spanish island with a lively club scene.” Right up my alley. NOT. It was IBIZA. I’m not too strong on islands, Spanish or otherwise. Probably should have heard of this song though.

    Speaking of dunzo, Ana’s been staying with us for a few days. You know, for support. She’s a little weepy. We knew it wouldn’t end easily, her love affair with Tom Cruise. But, thank goodness, she finally pulled off the bandage and ended it. Jeez Louise, he has kids closer in age to her than he is. Plus he’s a phony and there’s all that Scientology crap. Good riddance, Doll. Just let us know if he’s still bothering you: we can call in some muscle. Our sports consultant Sarah Fillier would be happy to “reason” with him. Women hockey players: nothing fiercer on God’s green earth.

    I just learned what an egg banjo sandwich is. I’m almost 76, kinehora. It’s about time. It was mentioned in a post in the Dull Men’s Club (UK) about breaking egg yolks. Several comments just said “egg banjo” cryptically. So I googled it. It seems to have arisen in the British military. It’s best if you learn about it as I did. From this video:

    https://www.forcesnews.com/military-life/fun/ever-wondered-why-its-called-egg-banjo

    Yesterday, one of the answers was SUTURE, clued with “Surgical stitch.” It reminded egs he heard of a chain of discount Urgent Care Centers called SUTURE SELF.

    Here’s Owl Chatter’s part in the effort to fight a particular form of bigotry that hits close to home. Even our George (Santos) is Jew-ish, you may recall. Don’t use our stuff!!

    Thanks for popping by!

  • To Be Perfectly Blunt

    Hi Everybody. Welcome to Owl Chatter Post #923. I thought it might be a prime number, but it’s not. It’s divisible by 13 and 71.

    This poem is by David Budbill. It’s from yesterday’s Writer’s Almanac and it’s called “Sometimes.” If you could do without joyous today, let it go.

    Sometimes when day after day we have cloudless blue skies,
    warm temperatures, colorful trees and brilliant sun, when
    it seems like all this will go on forever,

    when I harvest vegetables from the garden all day,
    then drink tea and doze in the late afternoon sun,
    and in the evening one night make pickled beets
    and green tomato chutney, the next red tomato chutney,
    and the day after that pick the fruits of my arbor
    and make grape jam,

    when we walk in the woods every evening over fallen leaves,
    through yellow light, when nights are cool, and days warm,

    when I am so happy I am afraid I might explode or disappear
    or somehow be taken away from all this,

    at those times when I feel so happy, so good, so alive, so in love
    with the world, with my own sensuous, beautiful life, suddenly

    I think about all the suffering and pain in the world, the agony
    and dying. I think about all those people being tortured, right now,
    in my name. But I still feel happy and good, alive and in love with
    the world and with my lucky, guilty, sensuous, beautiful life because,

    I know in the next minute or tomorrow all this may be
    taken from me, and therefore I’ve got to say, right now,
    what I feel and know and see, I’ve got to say, right now,
    how beautiful and sweet this world can be.

    The puzzle yesterday had four theme answers that worked like this: The clue for the first was Circle, cone, cube, cylinder, heart, pentagon, star, triangle. Those are all “figures,” right? And there are 8 of them. So the answer was FIGURE EIGHT.

    The next was the longest: Airheads, Dots, Fun Dip, Heath, Kit Kat, Life Savers, M&M’s, Milk Duds, Nerds, Oh Henry!, Peeps, Pez, Rolo, Skittles, Twix, Twizzlers. Get it? Those are “sweets” and there are 16. So it was SWEET SIXTEEN.

    Next came the toughest (IMO): Boot, good, loom, moon, pool, rook, woof. Answer: DOUBLE O SEVEN.

    And last (my favorite) was: Andrew, Ketanji Brown, Mahalia, Reggie, Stonewall. Answer: JACKSON FIVE.

    I posed the following riddle for the Commentariat: Which theme “item” could also appear in a different theme clue? I’ll leave some space.

    REGGIE. REGGIE! is the name of a candy bar named after Reggie Jackson. While Reggie was playing for Baltimore, he lamented that if only he were playing in NY, he’d be so popular they’d name a candy bar after him. And that’s what happened when he became a Yankee. The REGGIE! bar was produced for three years. Catfish Hunter, commenting on Reggie’s massive ego, said it’s the only candy bar that, when you take the wrapper off, tells you how good it is.

    And get this! — TIL it’s being produced again. Amazon’s selling a 24-bar box for $43. (Back in the 70s each one cost a quarter.) On Opening Day at Yankee Stadium, April 13, 1978, the Yankees gave out Reggie! bars to fans as they entered the ballpark as a promotion. Reggie homered in the bottom of the first and when he took the field the next inning he was showered with Reggie bars by the fans. The game had to be stopped as the grounds crew cleaned up hundreds of bars.

    Anony Mouse replied that he or she was among those who threw a bar at Reggie that day! How great is that! He or she also noted that Reggie’s homer was on the first pitch. Since he famously ended the 1977 World Series with three homers on three consecutive pitches, this Opening Day homer meant Reggie homered at Yankee Stadium on four consecutive pitches.

    OMG, here he is with Thurman. Too sad.

    Rex took issue with Peeps being among the “sweet sixteen,” to wit: “Peeps are a seasonal abomination. If they aren’t on the candy rack near the checkout at a drugstore or grocery store or convenience store, then they don’t belong on this list. One other possible criterion: would you hand it out at Halloween? Peeps? Absolutely not. What are you, a monster? A Peeps sales rep?”

    Needless to say, a portion of the Commentariat peeped up about it.

    Conrad: I disagree about Peeps. Granted, you wouldn’t give them out as trick-or-treats, but the answer wasn’t candy SIXTEEN, it was SWEET SIXTEEN. And Peeps are undeniably sweet.

    Stan: You’re right. Though they are an abomination.

    Anony Mouse 1: No, no! My fav sweet—just the yellow ones though!!

    Anony Mouse 2: Peeps are marshmallow, which is a candy.

    JJK: An abomination, yes, perhaps, but also a sign of spring.

    Anony Mouse 3: I have Halloween Peeps (skulls) sitting open on my counter now waiting for the proper hardness to set in. Abomination, NO! A year round obsession for me.

    Pablo: Agree with the rather obvious observation that PEEPS are SWEET and definitely belong. I mean, really.

    Anony Mouse 4: Cake is sweet. It doesn’t belong. (Peeps is obvi an outlier here and it’s weird y’all can’t/won’t see that.)

    Anony Mouse 5: Marshmallows are considered a type of sugar confectionery (candy). And Peeps are marshmallows. That means they’re candy, no matter how abominable you think they are. They’re fun to watch blow up in the microwave….

    OKAY!! ENOUGH!! NOT ANOTHER PEEP OUT OF YOU PLEASE!!

    Actress Emily BLUNT was in the puzzle yesterday. Well, not really. The clue was “Not sharp, as a pencil.” But she’s too pretty to ignore.

    Em is 42 and British. Did you know she’s been married to John Krasinski from The Office since 2010 and they have two daughters? John’s 46 and from Newton MA. (Hi Don and Jelly!)

    I’ll never understand fashion. Jennifer Lawrence recently appeared at an awards show dressed in an “off-the-shoulder cream gown by Dior,” which sells for roughly what the defense budget was last year. It caused a stir, with some calling it a bedsheet or a diaper, and others raving about its elegance. You decide. I can’t even figure it out. George! Where is that thing in the middle going?

    In today’s puzzle, at 2D, the “Philosopher who wrote the ‘Tao Te Ching’” was LAO TZU. It set Rex off a bit: “He’s the crosswordsiest philosopher who ever lived and it’s impossible to know which spelling of his name the puzzle is going to want: I went with LAO-TSE (last two letters, wrong). Wikipedia has it as LAOZI, and you’d think Crossworld would’ve jumped all over that spelling, but, . . . let’s see, zero appearances! Maybe it hasn’t taken because it looks like it’s pronounced “lousy.” According to Wikipedia: ‘Lǎozǐ is the modern (pinyin) romanization of 老子. In English, a variety of pronunciations and spellings of the Chinese name exist, such as Lao-tse and Lao Tzu. It is not a personal name, but rather an honorific title, meaning ‘old’ or ‘venerable.’ Its structure matches that of other ancient Chinese philosophers, such as Kongzi (Confucius), Mengzi, and Zhuangzi.’ Anyway, as soon as I see that guy’s name, or parts of his name, my ‘Bumpy Fill Ahead’ warning system goes off.”

    I added the following:

    The spelling problem surrounding Lao Tzu may have been more widespread than originally feared. Here is a recently discovered restaurant review by the great philosopher:

    For tzupper, Lao Tzu had the tzoup. Tzadly, he tzaid it tasted like tzoap.

    Todd Snider died. He was a folksinger mentored by John Prine among others. He was only 59. Pneumonia. He was from Portland OR but left home at 16 to bum around and work on his music. He was not pretentious. He said “If someone learns something from me, that would be their fault.” Inducted into the Oregon Music Hall of Fame in 2021.

    Struggled mightily with drugs. But he put a life together. Married to the artist Melita Osheowitz for fifteen years, but divorced in 2014. This is one of her works.

    Survived by his mom, bro, and sis. Here he is with Conan.

    You go girl! If you need someone to kick DJT in the nuts, it looks like MTG may be your best bet these days. Speaking strongly along with the Epstein survivors this morning she seemed miffed that You-Know-Who called her a traitor. “Let me tell you what a traitor is. A traitor is an American that serves foreign countries and themselves. A patriot is an American that serves the United States of America and Americans like the women standing behind me now.”

    Yup. Amen to that, sister. Whoda thunkit?

    Still not holding my breath for those files.

    See you tomorrow!