The Wellington Files

  • Rikishi

    If you’re at all like me, not a day goes by without you worrying whether you used enough chicken-related expressions in your writing and speech. I know — right? Part of it is it can be hard to keep them in mind. Happily, our friend Miriam Webster listed seven for us along with her word of the day today. Here they are: fly the coop, pecking order, put all your eggs in one basket, walk on eggshells, mother hen, no spring chicken, and rule the roost. If you can think of any more, please let Miriam and me know. 

    And Miriam’s word of the day today was interesting: nobby. It means chic, or cleverly stylish, and is sometimes used in a negative way: “Robert, let me tell you, I didn’t like the feel of the lobby in Berkowitz’s building. It was a little nobby. It was a nobby lobby, Bobby.”

    That bowl game I ran off to watch last night was a good one: The Gasparilla Bowl. It used to be called the St. Petersburg Bowl, but was renamed in 2017 as a nod to the legend of José Gaspar, a mythical pirate who supposedly operated in the Tampa Bay area and who is the inspiration for Tampa’s Gasparilla Pirate Festival. Anyway, when I arrived it was all tied up 17-17 at the half. Georgia Tech (for whom I was rooting) received the kickoff and ran the ball effectively for a whole bunch of plays to get to within striking distance. But on a fourth-and-one, at about the 20, they elected to take the field goal rather than go for it. I thought they should go for it — they were running so well, and I made a mental note to blame that call on the loss, if they ended up losing by four points or less. Central Florida was reputed to have a high-powered offense, and I thought we’d need more points.

    But, surprisingly, the GT coach had a better grasp of the game than me. (Hrummmph.) He knew his boys could stop UCF and was in the “let’s just start amassing points” mode. Georgia Tech went on to add a TD and another field goal, while shutting out the Knights. Final score 30-17. Since I missed the first half, I wasn’t aware that GT fell behind early 14-0 and was losing 17-3 in the second quarter. Cool.

    GT running back Jamal Haynes, a good-looking young man, was named the game’s MVP on the strength of his 128 rushing yards on 18 attempts. He’s majoring in Business Administration. He certainly gave UCF the business last night.

    I don’t read many novels these days, and back when I did most recently, I limited myself to Icelandic murder mysteries, so it’s no surprise that I hadn’t heard of ERIN Morgenstern in the puzzle today at 21A, clued as the author of The Night Circle, described in Wikipedia as “a phantasmagorical fairy tale of magic and romance set in an ahistorical late 19th century London.” She’s 45 and has a BA from Smith College.

    Hi Erin! Phil! — give her a chance to get settled! Jeez Louise!! Sorry. Love the pearls.

    I also hadn’t heard of Amanda BYNES, who popped in at 10D (“Actress Amanda”). She’s 37 now. She’s had serious emotional/mental problems. Her parents provide much support. Here’s how she looked at her best, IMO. Hang in there, AB. Things can’t be that bad if you made it into a Saturday puzzle in the goddamn NYT.

    But you know who won’t make it into the NYT puzzle? Hitler, that’s who. Even if he were clued with something like “Genocidal maniac,” he’s barred. And speaking of the genocidal maniac, he’s been in the news a lot lately, have you noticed? Yes — it’s come to this already — Trump’s language has become so Hitlerish that conservative commentator Hugh Hewitt asked him about it on Friday (as have others). Trump said: ”I know nothing about Hitler. I’m not a student of Hitler. I never read his works.” But according to the NYT (which devoted a third of a page to the story today):

    “Trump has long had a documented interest in Hitler. A table by his bed once had a copy of Hitler speeches called “My New Order,” a gift from a friend that Ivana Trump said she had seen him leaf through occasionally.”

    I don’t know — no disrespect to the deceased former wife, but it’s hard to picture Trump leafing through a book.

    The nitpickers were out in force today. The clue at 22A was “Heavyweight wrestlers,” and the answer was SUMOS. That disgusted a few commenters. Apparently they are never called sumos — only sumo wrestlers. It would be like calling baseball players “baseballs,” one noted. Then someone got even more technical and pointed out that a sumo wrestler is called a rikishi.

    OK, thanks.

    BTW, did you know that there are women rikishi too? Here are two, pictured below — can you tell which is real and which is fake?

    Enough. Tired. See you tomorrow.

  • Cranston High

    Just when it looked like things couldn’t get any worse for beleaguered Harvard University president Claudine Gay, security footage released by local police on Thursday shows her holding up a Seven-Eleven at 4 College Avenue in Somerville MA late Wednesday night. The videotape shows Gay pointing a small handgun at a terrified female cashier and saying “Hurry, bitch.”

    In Owl Chatter’s endless pursuit of nonsense and idiocy, we sometimes come across a story so ridiculous, so idiotic, that it’s nothing short of exquisite, a thing of pristine beauty. And so today, we have the full-page story (!) in the NYT about Cranston High School West in Rhode Island that is besieged by the sound of gunfire all day long from a police shooting range less than 500 yards away. Here’s the school.

    For example, on a typical day, shots ring out at 8:13 am from an AR-15 style rifle with .223-caliber bullets at 94 decibels and continue nonstop for 49 minutes. The following is the third paragraph in the story, verbatim:

    “Some days they shoot Glock pistols, like the weapons used in the mass shootings at Virginia Tech, the Charleston church and Thousand Oaks, Calif. Other days, they use AR-15-style semiautomatic rifles, similar to the ones used in the killings in Newtown, Conn.; Las Vegas; Parkland, Fla.; Buffalo and Uvalde, Texas.”

    The students are freaked at first — freezing, diving under desks — but they quickly get so used to it that it becomes normal background noise. The obvious result is they won’t react in the event of an actual shooting incident (for which they train incessantly, of course). 

    Parents are up in arms (oops, sorry), demanding the range be moved or enclosed, but the police are opposed, maintaining the facility is necessary for them to fulfill their mission of protecting the public. (Ya mean the public that is screaming its head off at you? That public?) During the pandemic, adults who stayed home instead of commuting to work couldn’t believe what they were hearing. (Play the short clip, below.)

    Incidents occur that would seem funny if the situation weren’t insane: a new art teacher diving under her desk and calling for a lockdown; visiting athletes at a track invitational “hitting the turf.” (You cannot make this stuff up.)

    Under pressure, the police applied for a $1.6 million grant to enclose the range but the request was denied. They reduced the number of outside groups that use the range and put in some sound-absorbing panels and shrubbery to dampen the noise, with laughable results of course. ”These are our last efforts,” the police told the mayor. ”We will not be making any further accommodations.”

    Owl Chatter’s advice: DUCK!!!

    So with Colorado tossing Trump off the ballot because the United States Constitution (remember that?) says his support for the insurrection disqualifies him, the Republicans are all screetching that the voters should decide – not a court. Note that they’re not saying he didn’t support the insurrection: just that the voters should decide. But the Constitution specifically takes it out of the hands of the voters in this case. That’s the whole point of the provision. Apparently, in Crazyland, it’s okay to sanctify the Constitution to support the “originalists” on the Supreme Court when they take away basic rights, but ignore it completely when it comes to Trump. 

    One to go! The Pistoffs lost a close one to the Jazz last night, but a loss is a loss. That’s 25 in a row. Tomorrow they play Brooklyn and a loss ties the all-time single-season consecutive loss record. I’ll be honest, guys — I’m getting nervous. The game’s in Brooklyn, which is a shame. It would be nice if they could tie the record in front of their fans.

    Today’s puzzle! It’s by two top-notch constructors, Brooke Husic and Brendan Emmett Quiqley, and Rex rated it “challenging.” So I’m quite proud that I was able to complete it. There was all sorts of trickery involved but I shoulda known I’d be okay when my goddam Hebrew school background helped me at 1A: ”Numbers can be read in this.” Ans: TORAH. The stuff I didn’t know filled itself in from the crosses. Like LEONA Lewis, who “played Grizabella on Broadway.” What? Who? Oh, hi Leona — nice to meet you.

    Are you thinking 5D: HOW DO YOU DO IT? (“Question expressing amazement?”) I loved 26D: ”Didn’t you just leave?” Ans: BACK SO SOON? And 21D: ”Take my word for it, you’re going to love this.” Ans: THANK ME LATER.

    At 45A, “Texter’s ta-ta” was CYA, which was new to me: It’s textspeak for “See ya.” Some folks thought it would work better as the initialism for “cover your ass.” In fact, I commented that an alternate clue could be: ”The converse of moon.” There were in fact a couple of tuchases in the puzzle! The first was at 19A with a great but hard clue: ”Emphatic suffix.” Ans: ASS. Get it? Like when you say it was a big-ASS affair, or that was some hot-ASS chili. The ASS is added for emphasis. And then 47D referenced it: ”19 across to a Brit” was ARSE. That’s why it would have been nice if CYA was used to continue the mini theme, or mini-ASS theme, if you prefer.

    OK, folks. I have to go watch the Georgia Tech-Central Florida bowl game. I have some in-laws in GA with an interest in it. So let’s end with a holiday cat pic Rex posted today. This exquisite cat is Barney. He’s a senior citizen and a professional model — this shot is from a spread he did for AARP.

    Can’t beat that for a closing. Meow.

  • Blank Space

    These are the saddest days at Owl Chatter, when our intrepid photographer Phil is off on some distant assignment. We miss combing the local streets with the cops in a police cruiser each morning, looking for his drunk, half-dressed body snoring it off in a gutter somewhere. “I think I see his other shoe up there, Officer.” How often that little delight falls to me!

    Anyway, as soon as we let him know that the town of Grindavik in Iceland was evacuated due to the threat of a nearby volcano’s erupting, he jumped on a plane to get over there. “I lava good volcano,” he punned. “Bring your camera this time!,” we yelled after him, recalling many of his previous jaunts.

    Anyway, he got some good shots for us. Here’s the dump, I mean hotel, he stayed at.

    On his way to the scene.

    Watch your feet, buddy!!

    Yikes!

    And here he is back in Grindavik, regretting where he left the rental car. ”You waived the extra insurance!!?? Oh, no!!”

    Hey, Georgie! — Frank Bruni used a great line about you in his “For the love of sentences” feature. It’s by Herb Scribner and Anne Branigin in WAPO.  “If we’ve learned anything about Santos . . . it’s that when life hands him lemons, he stuffs them into a Hermès bag filled with cash, or something.” Ha! I think they nailed you, buddy.

    Hey Puzzlers — it’s the 110th anniversary of the first published crossword puzzle. It was by Arthur Wynne, an Englishman who moved to NY, and it appeared in the New York World.

    Here’s a prettified copy:

    There are differences between it and modern puzzles, e.g., both the first and last squares of each answer are numbered. If you want to try your hand at it, jump into the grid and travel back in time. 

    (The answers appear below). 

    It was originally called a Word-Cross, but a typo turned it into Cross-Word and it stuck. The NYT scoffed at them for years and only published its first on February 15, 1942, with respected cruciverbalist Margaret Petherbridge Farrar the first editor.

    Puzzles have become very popular over the years. Even the brightest stars of Hollywood turn to them often for amusement and edification. (Sorry about this photo — I’m winging it while Phil’s off in Iceland.)

    Today’s puzzle’s theme is “Go Down in Flames,” and the constructor (David Steinberg) must be a Swiftie because he’s aware of her line in her song “Blank Space:” ”So it’s gonna be forever, or it’s gonna go down in flames” because he refers to her in a clue at 42D: “Taylor Swift’s record-setting ___ Tour.” Rex thought it was pretty brilliant because the answer (ERAS) does fill in “blank spaces.” But now my brain is starting to hurt.

    The song and video (says Taylor) are take-offs on the image some in the media created for her as an insane man-eater. NPR ranked it the #43rd greatest song by a female (or nonbinary artist) in the 21st century. The lyrics are sharp, IMO.

    Oh my god — look at that face: You look like my next mistake.

    I get drunk on jealousy
    But you’ll come back each time you leave
    ‘Cause, darling, I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream

    Got a long list of ex-lovers: They’ll tell you I’m insane
    But I’ve got a blank space, baby, — And I’ll write your name.

    Take a look (and listen):

    Constructor Steinberg is only 27 but he’s had over 100 puzzles in the Times. He says he’s retiring from crosswords, though, and the commentariat was loudly bemoaning its loss today. 

    Here’s one of his neat, if macabre, clue/answers today: 40A: ”Socket inserts.” Answer: GLASS EYES.

    And PAM from The Office was in the grid. What a wonderful character and actress. It’s Jenna Fischer. She’ll be 50 in March. Ouch.

    Hey, Norrie — get this — Fischer is passionate about animal rescue, and she is involved with the LA organizations Kitten Rescue and Rescue Rover. Before The Office, she worked for three years doing hands-on rescue work for the organizations.  She regularly fosters cats and hosted Kitten Rescue’s annual “Fur Ball Gala” for three years.

    Speaking of cats, here’s a cutie Rex posted today. It’s Bean! Say good night, Bean. Good night everybody.

  • Through the Woods

    DK Metcalf did not have an opportunity to sign Monday night since he did not score a TD in the Seahawk’s upset of the floundering Eagles. But he led Seattle in catches and receiving yards and was spectacular. Here’s one of his gems, in double coverage:

    In other sports news, the Detroit Pistoffs kept their streak alive with a brilliant 130-124 loss to the mediocre Atlanta Hawks (11-15) in Atlanta. That’s 24 losses in a row. The boys actually opened the season 2-1. Now (you can do the math), they are 2-25. Next up: The 10-17 Utah Jazz, in Motown, on Thursday.

    This poem, by Thomas R. Smith, is called “Housewarming.” It’s from yesterday’s Writer’s Almanac.

    In my dream I was the first to arrive
    at the old home from the church. Wind
    and night had forced through the cracks.
    I pushed inside, turned on the lamps,
    lit a fire in the stove. Frozen oak
    logs stung my fingers; it was good
    pain, my hands reddening on the icy
    broom-handle as I swept away snow.
    On Christmas Eve, I prepared a warm
    place for my mother and father, sister
    and brothers, grandparents, all my relatives,
    none dead, none missing, none angry
    with one another, all coming through the woods.

    OK, everybody — now let’s be honest. We’ve all had sex at work countless times, amirite? Any of us get fired for it? Of course not. So, WTF, Senator Cardin? — why’d you have to fire him? I’m referring of course to 24-year-old Aidan Maese-Czeropski who was an aide to the Democratic Senator (or Democrat Senator if you’re a Republican and an idiot). Aidan had sex with some guy in a hearing room, Hart 216, and it was filmed and word got out. The upshot: Goodbye Aidan. He’s upset: ”This has been a difficult time for me, as I have been attacked for who [sic] I love to pursue a political agenda.”

    Incidentally, the room they chose was the setting for several notable moments, including James Comey’s testimony about Trump in 2016 and the 9/11 commission hearings. That stuff can be quite a turn-on. I can see it.

    These are the moments when I am so thankful we have George Santos on our staff to unpack stories like these, with his own special “insider’s” point of view. This is how GS sees it, and he’s not very sympathetic:

    Having sex in a United States government building and filming it is the reason you got heat. You being gay and having gay sex NO BODY gives a rats ass… No one is perusing [sic] a political agenda, we are just disgusted about your VILE behavior as a staffer to a United States senator. Now you do put a new definition to “Fuck around and find out”! Aidan you will forever be remembered as the Democrats favorite sloppy bottom…

    [Note: That is the actual post that Santos posted. I didn’t make any of it up. No one is perusing a political agenda!]

    What a nice surprise — it’s the Pointer Sisters everybody! Today’s puzzle was about advice columns (Dear Abby and Ann Landers) so of course — it’s about giving “pointers,” and (did you know?) — Abby and Ann were sisters! So the Pointer Sisters just had to stop by at 52A. Their clue was “Grammy winners for “Jump (for My Love)” (1984),” but Rex treated us to their version of Bruce’s song “Fire” (which they turned into a hit). And I’m stealing it for OC too. I’m ridin’ in your car . . . . Turn it up!

    Unlike the Ramones, the Pointers were all actually Pointers. All but one were sisters, too. One who came on later was a daughter.

    Did someone say Ramones? Hey ho, let’s go!

    Here’s a comment from Rex’s blog today:

    “As a socially-awkward kid in the 90s, I enjoyed reading the Dear Abby and Ann Landers columns. If you know your friend’s spouse is cheating on them, should you tell the friend? Answer: No… especially if his or her spouse is cheating with you.”

    Another one:

    “Abby (Van Buren) was a neighbor of ours in California in the ’50s. Locals said she and her sister (Ann Landers) never got along. Supposedly Abby was resentful that Ann had stolen her idea for an advice column, and was more successful at it. How could they be advising others about relationships when they couldn’t get along themselves?”

    One more:

    The best advice I ever saw in Ann Landers (or was it Dear Abby?): After a long, truly awful letter about someone’s horrible husband and whether the advice seeker should leave or stay, Ann (or Abby?) gave this timeless advice: Would my life be better with him or without him?

    How’s this for a back-and-forth —

    First comment: When I was a lad, Ann Landers was the column run by our local paper. All I remember about her column was what seemed to be a years-long debate about the correct way to hang toilet paper.

    Response: THIRTY SEVEN YEARS (that’s 37! ) my wife hangs toilet paper any which-a-way like a, like a, aaah, crazy person, as if the fate of the universe plays no role in our destinies. Toilet paper engineers and designers make one side pretty on purpose. I quietly fix her maniacal hanging job for her hoping to clean up our kharma. I fix it at friends’ houses too. Somebody somewhere has to care or society goes to the dogs.

    Trivia du jour: Ann Landers was grandmother to Dean Phillips, Democratic representative from the 3rd district in Minnesota, who is running for President.

    The clue at 5D was “Egyptian sun god,” and the answer was AMONRA. Whenever this god appears, there is grumbling about how it’s spelled. Apparently it can be spelled three or four different ways. And today this note appeared:

    “There’s a football player for the Detroit Lions, a wide receiver, named AMON-RA St. Brown, maybe we can substitute him for the Sun God in future clues. He has a brother who is a wide receiver for the Chicago Bears, named Equanimeous, so when that name comes up. . . “

    So I did a little digging:

    Eq’s full name is Equanimeous Tristan Imhotep J. St. Brown. His bro’s full name is: Amon-Ra Julian Heru J. St. Brown. They have another brother, Osiris, who was also a wide receiver (at Stanford), but is not in the NFL. Their parents’ last name is Brown, but the boys all have the last name of St. Brown. Their dad was a professional bodybuilder and was a two-time amateur Mr. Universe.  

    Here are, first, Amon-Ra the all-powerful sun god, and, next, Amon-Ra, the all-pro wide receiver, back-flipping over a defender.

    We’re ending on a very sad note today — in close to 400 Owl Chatter posts (I know, hard to believe), this is the most upsetting story I’ve encountered. Take a look at this beautiful English schoolgirl, 16-year-old, Brianna Ghey. 

    Brianna was transgender and was murdered by two sociopathic 16-year-olds last February, one boy and one girl. They were convicted this month. The jury took under four hours to reach their verdict. Brianna was lured into a park. The killers planned her death in detail. She was stabbed with a hunting knife 28 times in her head, neck, chest and back. In messages between them, the killers wondered if she’d scream as a boy or a girl.

    Deputy chief crown prosecutor Ursula Doyle said: “This has been one of the most distressing cases I have ever dealt with.”

    Here are Brianna’s mom and sister:

    Brianna’s mother described her daughter as fearless. “She wanted to identify as a female and she wanted to wear the girl’s school uniform and yeah she just did it. It wasn’t a hurdle at all for her.”

    Meanwhile, here in the States, anti-trans legislation continues its steady ride through Republican legislatures.

    Rest in peace, Brianna. 

  • Standing on Business

    So, you know how snake oil salesmen symbolize fraud (related to fake cures)? Well, it turns out snake oil is actually good for you — it’s high in Omega-3 fatty acids. The Chinese use a snake oil to treat joint pain. A 2007 study showed that mice that were fed snake oil attained significant improvement in swimming endurance and their ability to solve mazes over mice that were fed lard. (It didn’t help them with crossword puzzles.) The fraud connection comes from the many sellers of “fake” snake oil who arose. BTW, that mouse study was ended early because of how hard it was getting them into those little bathing suits.

    It all came up because of the clue at 30A today: ”Snake oil salesman’s offering.” ANS: QUACK REMEDY.

    I didn’t even know mice could swim. Do guinea pigs whistle? That was a question on Hollywood Squares several hundred years ago. Paul Lynde’s answer was: “When brought to a boil.”

    Rex’s holiday cat picture campaign has brought out some unusual material. First, I liked how he referred to this gal, Misha, as a Hanukkitty.

    Then there was a comment today from a guy who hadn’t commented since Sept 2022. He had been a regular (and well-liked, apparently) commenter up until then. The reason he stopped was he shared what he thought was a cute kitten photo, but it was deleted (along with his comment), by the Rex blog moderators. He was so miffed he stopped posting, until yesterday. I guess the stream of cat pix brought him out. In any event, this is the kitty that was “banned in Boston.” It made it by the mods today, obviously, and, really, should never have been cut.

    The clue at 33D was “Colorful symbols of hope and happiness.” It’s BLUEBIRDS, of course. But did you know there are three types? Eastern, Western, and Mountain. 

    (1) Eastern bluebirds have a royal blue back and head, a reddish-brown chest and throat, and a white belly.

    (2) Western bluebirds look similar to Eastern Bluebirds, except that the reddish-brown color of their chest extends to cover their shoulders, and the royal blue color of their back also covers their throat.

    Male Western Bluebird on Bobwire.

    (3) Mountain Bluebirds, the bluest of all three bluebird species, have a bright royal blue covering their back, head, and throat, and a soft patch of white on their stomach.

    The females of all three species look similar to the males, but are a duller blueish-gray in appearance.

    Here’s a comment I enjoyed:

    “Eastern Blue Birds beat out Western Blue Birds, but I would guess (I’ve never seen one) that the Mountain Blue Bird beats them both. I remember the mistake I made when I told a co-worker that I had seen my first Blue Bird, and damn, was it blue. He insisted for another hour to explain to me that I had been seeing Blue Birds all my life, and wondering what kind of an idiot I was that I didn’t know that. I explained otherwise, but he insisted he was right. I finally told him I wasn’t talking about a Blue Jay but a Blue Bird, and that if he ever once in his life considered that, in a disagreement between peers, he might, just might, be the one who is wrong not everyone would consider him the asshole they do.”

    Wow. Where’d that come from?

    [There is also the fourth type: The Jewish Bluebird. It’s the “Bluebird of Happiness?-Are-You-Kidding?-With-My-Back?” Very rarely sighted.]

    The sex-scandal-tarred Zieglers are still in the news! Mr. Z (Christian) is the head of the GOP in Florida who stands accused of raping a woman with whom his virulently anti-gay wife (and school board member) admitted (to the cops) to having gay sex via a threesome with Mr. Z. Mrs. Z was asked to resign in a 4-1 vote by the Board, the one nay vote being her own. But she refused. The vote was all for show, though. The Board is taking no real steps to remove her because her open seat could lead to control falling out of the hands of right-wing lunatics. God forbid.

    Christian meanwhile has had his salary reduced to $1 and has been stripped (pardon the pun) of his powers as party head. 

    Evan Power, the GOP vice chairman, said that party members considered the sexual assault charges against Mr. Z very serious. Here’s my favorite part: He said: “You cannot morally lead the Republican Party forward.” Hello? Knock, knock? Does anyone remember that Trump was actually found liable for sexual assault pretty recently? ”Moral leadership” may not be your best argument, Evan. 

    Here’s pretty Mrs. Z again, who, believe me, no matter what happens, will land on her feet. Like a Hanukkitty.

    DK Metcalf is an outstanding wide receiver for the Seattle Seahawks. He turned 26 just last week. He’s from Oxford, MS, and went to school at Ole Miss. In his five pro seasons, he’s averaged over 1,000 receiving yards per year — consistent excellence. DK is short for DeKaylin Zecharius. He’s a very good looking young man (and not married, ladies).

    With much less flare (how could it not be less?), he is doing for the deaf community what Taylor Swift is doing for her fans, i.e., introducing many to pro football.  DK is not deaf himself, nor is anyone close to him deaf. So what’s going on? When he was in college, he took a summer class in signing (ASL). It was a way to exercise his mind and provide a break from football.

    He resumed studying it this season online and is taking it very seriously. The instructor did not even know DK played football when they started, and he described DK as “an inquisitive and open-minded student, dedicated to learning sign language.” Deaf folks resent it when someone tries to learn to sign to use it for personal gain, or just to learn fun or dirty phrases. But there is much enthusiasm for DK’s embrace of it — it’s become a hot topic among the deaf.

    At first, the joke was he was learning it just so he could trash talk without getting fined. But he’s using it on the field in a much cooler way — he signs as part of his touchdown celebrations. The first time he did it, he directed his message to the defensive back he just beat and signed “44, my son.” ”44” represents spiritual strength, or, in this case, the ability to outrun the coverage.

    The next time was against Dallas. After scoring, he signed “Standing on business.” That means sticking by your principles and getting things done. It exploded (in a good way). The deaf community was “on fire” with it and can’t wait to see what comes next. DK said the “standing on business” idea came to him from his teammate Boye Mafe who also signs: He signs “I love you” to the sky before every game to honor his mom who died in 2018.

    Metcalf is delighted by the response of the deaf community. He did not know they felt unseen or forgotten. Is it even a little bit a way to get some trash talking in? After all, DK has been fined about $100,000 over the years for his “colorful” conduct. ”I’m trying to learn a new language,” he said. ”Simply put.”

    You can keep an eye on the man tonight — the Seahawks face the Eagles in a battle of the birds. It’s on ABC at 8:15.

    Good night, everybody. See you tomorrow.

  • Do You Like Chocolates?

    On this date 120 years ago, the Wright brothers made their first flight. Wilber complained that his lunch was cold, and Orville was upset at having to pay extra for his bag. Low-hanging fruit, but sometimes the bad jokes just have to be told. The actual flight took place near Kitty Carlisle, NC, or, if you prefer the truth, Kitty Hawk. 

    Orville went first, got only ten feet off the ground, and landed right away. After two more tries, Wilbur got seriously aloft and traveled 852 feet. There was some damage to the plane, but the boys were overjoyed. There was no press coverage of the event. The brothers hired an amateur photographer, (it may have been Phil’s dissolute great grandfather), who took only one photo, when the plane was ten feet off the ground. This is it.

    Papers refused to run it, thinking it was a hoax. Only six years later, when Wilbur flew over Manhattan, were the boys given their place in history. 

    Both brothers married very late in life, joking that they spent a long time looking for Mrs. Wright. Orville’s wife Emmylou is on the left, and Wilbur’s wife Betty on the right. The brothers often confused the two until Betty had a restraining order issued. [This entire paragraph is false: the boys never married. I don’t know who these women are, but they’ve been very generous with drinks and salted nuts. So they’re welcome to stay, like, forever.]

    I was wrong about the Pistoffs schedule — I thought their next loss, I mean game, was tomorrow against Atlanta, but they managed to sneak in a loss to Milwaukee last night. So it’s 23 in a row. They seem to have settled into comfortably losing by 32 points, since that was the margin again, 146-114. They lost all four quarters. After the first they were down 43-20. Ouch. Let’s not dwell on it. Here’s a lighter topic — Jeffrey Dahmer.

    Remember Jeffrey Dahmer? The serial killer with the worst-selling cookbook in publishing history. He was killed in prison in 1994. But his dad Lionel died only two weeks ago, in Ohio, at age 87. If you’re wondering what it’s like to be the dad of a son like that, you can read Lionel’s book that was pretty well received: A Father’s Story. 

    Lionel’s parents were both elementary school teachers and he was a chemist. He married Joyce Flint, a telephone operator. How’s this for creepy:

    “She became pregnant days after the wedding. The coming months were a kind of ill omen. [Ya think?] Joyce Dahmer suffered from seizures and emotional fits. Her legs locked into place, she trembled, her jaw jerked to the right and became frighteningly rigid, and she foamed at the mouth. Sometimes the episodes would end only when a doctor injected her with barbiturates and morphine. She took as many as 26 pills a day.”

    Jeffrey was a happy little guy, but turned awkward as he grew up, and the rest is history. Lionel had been awkward as a child too, and he didn’t realize Jeffrey had become “serial-killer awkward.” They had a second child, who is still living, but the marriage failed and Lionel remarried. He visited Jeffrey in prison and recordings of those visits were used in a mini-series on the story. Lionel is survived by a sister, his son, and two grandchildren, none of whom look forward to Thanksgiving.

    Here’s Lionel at the trial, with his second wife, not Joyce.

    Remember what Garrison Keillor said when he spoke at his daughter’s graduation: ”The truth is, we would love you just as much, and be just as proud of you, if we were visiting you in prison today, instead of at your college graduation. But we’re grateful for the difference.”

    71A in the puzzle today was “Count on one hand?” and the answer was SIXTY. I had no idea why, but it turns out to refer to the hands of a clock which are counting sixty seconds and minutes. Commenter John X says:

    “The minute and second hands of a clock can count to sixty, and so can a human hand. This has been done since ancient times, and is the origin for the Base-60 system (that and 60 is divisible by more whole numbers than 100). This is why there are 60 minutes/seconds, 12 hours, 360 degrees, etc etc.”

    Okay, thanks. Wait, is that the Minister of Silly Walks on that clock? We’d have to change the clue to “count on one foot.”

    The clue/answer for the Dirty Old Man Dept. today was at 12A: ”They may be wireless.” The answer was BRAS. One commenter asked: ”Wait — so women use their bras to connect to the internet these days?” 

    The puzzle theme was “bridges.” In theme answers there were bridges crossing over various bodies of water. Rex questioned whether there is a “bog” bridge, but many pointed out that of course there is. When you take a hike over marshy areas, little bridges help you across the wetter spots. There was also a question about “ocean” bridges. But “trigger” noted: ”I think bridges to barrier islands or to Key West would qualify as ocean bridges.”

    And pabloinnh added: ”The bridge over the OCEAN made me think of an old Bob and Ray bit where one is interviewing the other, who is building a bridge over the Atlantic Ocean, which has just been started, and in the background you hear the sound of cars driving off the end and into the water because of course they do. Nobody beat those guys for absurd.”

    This poem from The Writer’s Almanac is by Louis Simpson and is called “Chocolates.”

    Once some people were visiting Chekhov.
    While they made remarks about his genius
    the Master fidgeted. Finally
    he said, “Do you like chocolates?”

    They were astonished, and silent.
    He repeated the question,
    whereupon one lady plucked up her courage
    and murmured shyly, “Yes.”

    “Tell me,” he said, leaning forward,
    light glinting from his spectacles,
    “what kind? The light, sweet chocolate
    or the dark, bitter kind?”

    The conversation became general
    They spoke of cherry centers,
    of almonds and Brazil nuts.
    Losing their inhibitions
    they interrupted one another.
    For people may not know what they think
    about politics in the Balkans,
    or the vexed question of men and women,

    but everyone has a definite opinion
    about the flavor of shredded coconut.
    Finally someone spoke of chocolates filled with liqueur,
    and everyone, even the author of Uncle Vanya,
    was at a loss for words.

    As they were leaving he stood by the door
    and took their hands.

                                    In the coach returning to Petersburg
    they agreed that it had been a most
    unusual conversation.

    Rex’s practice this holiday season of sharing pet pix his readers send in turned poignant today. He posted this photo of a reader’s cat named Oliver, dressed up as something silly:

    Then he shared this note he received two days after he received that photo:

    Hi, Mr. Parker! 

    My wife, Courtney [W.], submitted a photo of our cat Oliver in the last day or two.  Oliver died yesterday, and part of her cat grief has been to regularly check your blog to see if her photo was posted. Sometimes it’s the little things? 🙂 

    To honor her memory, Rex followed up by posting additional photos of Oliver. Here are two of them.

    Rest in peace, little guy. 

    We’ll see you all tomorrow.

  • PHI 124, DET 92

    It’s Jane Austen’s birthday today: Happy Birthday, young lady! An author so popular that all the way across the ocean the people of Texas named their state capital after her. [No they didn’t.] Born in 1775, she’s 248, but, honestly Jane, you don’t look a day over 200. C’mon, take a load off, girl — just throw all that crap off the sofa — you like beer?

    For those of you who question the power of the written word, this note was in today’s Writer’s Almanac: After the First World War, Austen’s novels were prescribed to shell-shocked British soldiers for therapy, because the psychologists found that Austen helped them recover their sense of the world they’d known before the war. [Zelensky tells me Owl Chatter is serving the same purpose for the Ukrainians.] 

    Brava, Janie. Phil! — Run out and pick up some ice cream! Here’s a twenty — maybe a few Ben and Jerry’s.

    Did you know you’re a fashion trend, Austen? Whoda thunkit? Jane Austen dresses are definitely a thing.

    How’s that for a classy opening?

    Now let’s take a look at this gorgeous grid today, by Garrett Chalfin:

    Usually, the requirement of symmetry just results in black squares scattered here and there. Look at today’s climbing diagonals. And it’s so clean. The only construction flaw I can see is at 23D/36D the ASS is above the FLANK. 

    Of course, it only inspired dread for curmudgeon Rex. Here’s how he opened his writeup:

    “I could tell right away from the shape of this one that it was more likely to be a puzzle to endure rather than savor. That thick tube of 8s running through the middle would, at best, hold up OK, but would be unlikely to provide much sizzle, and the highly cut-off corners would play like puzzles unto themselves, with maybe one winner in each corner if I was lucky.”

    The puzzle had quite a bit of material for our dirty old man department. The clue at 13D was “Situations involving multiple romantic partners,” which turned out to be the tame GROUP DATES. But right next to it at 16D was “Portmanteau for poly relationships,” which was THRUPLES. And 17A was “Film unlikely to have a costume designer:” PORNO. And I think the constructor may be risking a little jail time when he throws in WEE LASS at 18A (“Young woman, quaintly”), with the emphasis on ASS at 23D (“Bottom”). Hot stuff coming from a constructor who just graduated high school last year. Has your mom seen this puzzle, young man?

    Egs noted: ”Based on my own experience, I immediately threw down OCTUPLES for poly relationships.”

    OC readers may be pleased to learn the streak is alive. The Detroit Pistoffs of the NBA lost their 22nd straight game last night to Pennsylvania (nee Delaware) Nancy’s Philly 76ers. Detroit lost by 32 points (124-92), but they were only down by 4 after the first quarter, and they played them even (30-30) in the fourth quarter. Those middle quarters musta been ugly. 

    Philly also won the funny name competition with bench players Mo Bamba and Furkan Korkmaz (I’m not kidding), which is an anagram of “Kafka’s mazourka” [no it’s not, but it should be]. Detroit has a Jalen, Jaden, Jared, James, and Joe for all the good it’s doing them. They’re playing like they were put together on JDate. Next up: Atlanta on Monday. OC will be on hand, for sure.

    Back to that THRUPLE. Rex struggled a bit with the spelling (throuple?) since he thought it was pronounced to rhyme with hoople, but it isn’t. In any event, it brought to mind (for him), Mott the Hoople. Remember that band? They did well with this song David Bowie wrote, below. And one commenter wondered if they were named Mott the Hoople to avoid confusion with Mott the Applesauce. 

    Re the holiday cat pix Rex is posting that are being sent in to him by his readers, okanaganer posted: ”I recall some comic had a bit about a guy who awakens from a 30-year coma. A nurse shows him her smart phone and says ‘you can look up any fact; watch movies; listen to any song you want.’ The guy says ‘That’s amazing! What are you looking at right now?’ She replies: ‘Cat pictures.’”

    Here’s a cute one from today (the cat’s name is Brady):

    With Lianna’s sleepover with friend Quinn canceled we were freed up to see Maestro in Cranford. Very nice theater we had never been to before. Independently owned. Very intense film. Cooper is spectacular. Whoever did the makeup should get an Oscar — he looked more like Bernstein than Bernstein did. (Wait, what?) Our favorite scene: Lenny conducting the performance in the cathedral. Wow.

    Let’s close with some more Jane Austen dresses. So lovely. See you tomorrow!

  • Emily

    So my plan is to live forever.

    So far, so good.

    (Stephen Wright)

    As you may recall, Rex Parker (of Crossword puzzle blog fame), is quite the cat lover. He shared a holiday photo of an adorable cat that one of his readers sent in and said if anyone else wanted to submit a holiday-themed pet shot, he’d post it. Dozens of us followed suit and today he posted my entry:

    It’s my Zozo with her fierce watch-cat Emily. Rex noted that he liked how Emily was staring directly into the camera as if to say: Are we done here?

    Made my day.

    Today’s puzzle was crisp and crackling with freshness. 14D was “One on the Israelites’ journey to the Promised Land.” Answer: CALEB. I had no idea, but egs posted: ”There is a wonderful show about one of the Israelites journey to the Promised Land. Unfortunately, you can only see it if you’ve got CALEB TV.” 

    With LMS in hibernation, egs has become my favorite Rex poster — good strong devotion to utter nonsense like that.

    The puzzle had a minor “crabbiness” theme. 14A: ”‘Knock it off!,’ in question form,” was CAN YOU NOT? and 27D: “Don’t even think of coming back!” Ans: AND STAY OUT! 

    At 28D “Nephalist” was TEETOTALER. (WTF??)

    At 18A “Number in a count,” was a great clue for BALLS. Think of count in the baseball sense — balls and strikes. 

    Actress Malick was WENDIE. She was very good in a very funny TV show Just Shoot Me! George Segal was in it, along with a perfect comic cast. That’s Wendie peering over the shades, below

    She auditioned for the role of Diane Chambers in Cheers, but, of course, lost out to Shelley Long. 

    Ok everybody. Keeping it short tonight. Too tired from my day in the big city giving an exam. See you tomorrow!

  • The Country of Couples

    Nearing the cusp of history: The Detroit Pistons of the NBA have not won a game since October — that’s 20 losses in a row. The all-time record is 28, but that spanned two seasons. The record for a single-season string is 26. You can do it boys! Focus! 

    First thing we gotta do is change the team song. ”Don’t Worry; Be Happy” is not getting it done. Next, the team name. Maybe instead of the Pistons, it should be the Pistoffs. And who’s this guy? He’s not on the roster — call Security!

    This poem from today’s Writer’s Almanac is by George Bilgere and is called “Crusoe.”

    When you’ve been away from it long enough,
    You begin to forget the country
    Of couples, with all its strange customs
    And mysterious ways. Those two
    Over there, for instance: late thirties,
    Attractive and well-dressed, reading
    At the table, drinking some complicated
    Coffee drink. They haven’t spoken
    Or even looked at each other in thirty minutes,

    But the big toe of her right foot, naked
    In its sandal, sometimes grazes
    The naked ankle bone of his left foot,

    The faintest signal, a line thrown

    Between two vessels as they cruise
    Through this hour, this vacation, this life,
    Through the thick novels they’re reading,
    Her toe saying to his ankle,

    Here’s to the whole improbable story
    Of our meeting, of our life together
    And the oceanic richness
    Of our mingled narrative
    With its complex past, with its hurts
    And secret jokes, its dark closets
    And delightful sexual quirks,
    Its occasional doldrums, its vast
    Future we have already peopled
    With children. How safe we are

    Compared to that man sitting across the room,
    Marooned with his drink
    And yellow notebook, trying to write
    A way off his little island.

    At 63A today the clue was “Hydrox competitor” and the answer was Crossworld’s favorite cookie: OREO. There was some grumbling. Youngsters had never heard of Hydrox — it was discontinued in 1999. It was brought back briefly for its 100th anniversary in 2008, and it’s being produced again by Leaf Brand which picked up the trademark when Kellogg abandoned it. Hydrox came first (1908), four years ahead of OREO.

    I think the fellas in marketing dropped the ball on HYDROX. What kind of name is that for a cookie? It sounds like a detergent or a medication for bloating.

    I felt the same way when McDonalds introduced the McWrap. What were they thinking?

    In fact, Hydrox (the name) comes from hydrogen and oxygen, the two molecules in water. Yum! It differs from Oreo in that the filling is less sweet and the outer shell is crunchier and, when dipped, less soggy.

    If you have a craving for some McCrap, you can still get it in the UK, Poland, Canada, and Australia.

    The clue at 32D today was “Peter who was the first actor to play a Bond villain” and the answer was LORRE. What? Peter Lorre was the first Bond villain? But wasn’t it that guy from Dr. No? 

    It turns out there was a Bond before Sean Connery. In 1954, CBS paid Ian Fleming $1,000 (around $11,000 today) to adapt his novel “Casino Royale” into a one-hour television adventure as part of its Climax! series. It aired live in October of that year and starred Barry Nelson as Bond and Peter Lorre as Le Chiffre.

    Here’s Barry Nelson — does he look very Bondian to you?

    According to Linda G., down in Florida, as we age, our songs get revised. 

    Here are some:

    From Herman’s Hermits — Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Walker.

    The Bee Gees — How Can You Mend a Broken Hip?

    Paul Simon — Fifty Ways to Lose Your Liver

    The Temptations: Papa’s Got a Kidney Stone

    Johnny Nash: I Can’t See Clearly Now

    While I was in the dental chair this morning having two fillings toned up, Kevin said that he heard that the twelve days of Xmas song is really about twelve different birds. Some are obvious (partridge, turtle dove, swan, etc.) but maids-a-milking and lords-a-leaping are birds too. Here’s what I was able to pick up from a site called AZ Animals.

    The obvious birds are partridge, turtle doves, French hens, geese, and swan. The “calling” birds were actually “colly” birds originally, meaning black as coal or soot. Hence, these are blackbirds. The five “rings” are ring-necked pheasants. Here’s one — hi, fella! (or gal)

    The maids-a-milking are magpies, which are black with milky patches. These two are gorgeous, no?

    The nine ladies dancing are either cormorants or cranes. Cormorants seem to dance elegantly because of their bobbing stance; cranes are also known for their mating dance. Here’s a crane gettin’ down (or up).

    The lords-a-leaping are grey herons who leap into the air to take flight and look like hunched over old Jewish men when their necks are bent. They are often heard saying, “Oy, I’m going over there now, Yetta.”

    The eleven pipers are sandpipers, and the twelve drummers are either woodpeckers or snipes. The latter’s tail vibrates with a drumming sound when they swoop down. (I have a cousin like that.)

    So there are your twelve birds of Christmas. All that’s left is to sing the damn song — but not too loudly please — we don’t want to wake the two owls-a-napping.

    Guess who popped by today? at 51D, “Actress Knightley,” the hauntingly beautiful KEIRA, of course. That sister is thin though, amirite? Get her some latkes, Phil — I think there’s still some sour cream on the door. Keira, sit down, darling.

    See you tomorrow!

  • Infinite ERA

    Zelensky came by our offices last night to chill out after his meeting with Biden. To be honest, we hadn’t seen him so upset since he heard CBS was canceling Blue Bloods. This is the closest to a smile Phil could get out of the poor guy, although, to be fair to Phil, he refused to be tickled.

    I said, “Volodymyr, is it the Person of the Year business? — are you upset about getting edged out by Taylor?” He said, “No, although that didn’t help. I won’t begrudge her the title: she deserves it. I won it last year, you may recall. It’s pretty hard to repeat. It’s the war. I’m worried about the war.” 

    “Oh, yeah, duh, there’s that,” I said. ”But, c’mon, buddy — you’ll feel better after a few cold ones.”

    It’s the birthday of poet and writer Heinrich Heine today (1797). Get this — his dad wanted him to be a businessman so he got him a job at a bank. But then he involved him in an embezzlement scheme and he got fired. Thanks Dad! So he tried law school, but the anti-Semitism was so intense he had to convert to Protestantism to get his law degree. [Jeez Louise! — and I thought I had trouble getting through.]

    The man could hold a grudge. He said: ”We should forgive our enemies, but not before they are hanged.” Happy birthday, Henry!

    Victor Jose Davalillo Romero, who died last week at the age of 84 in Venezuela, was a damn good ballplayer: Vic Davalillo to us fans. You can see his autograph from my collection, below.

    I used to enjoy telling about him that he was once traded “for a player to be named later,” and it turned out it was him — he was shipped back as that player. So he was essentially traded for himself. But there’s nothing about that in his Wikipedia entry. [It turns out that happened to Harry Chiti in 1962. He was traded by the Indians to the expansion Mets, and after 15 games (during which he batted .195), he was returned to Cleveland as the “player to be named later.” Chiti was the first player to whom that occurred. It happened three times later: to Dickie Noles, Brad Gulden, and John MacDonald.]

    Davalillo’s MLB career started with the Indians in 1963 and he played for them for six years. After that he played for five other teams and finished up with the Dodgers in 1980. He played in 1,458 games and had a lifetime batting average of .278. He won a Gold Glove in 1964. In 1965, he was the starting center fielder for the AL in the All-Star game, and was one of only three batters to finish the season batting over .300: His .301 trailed only Tony Oliva and Yaz. He won the World Series with the Pirates in ’71 and Oakland in ’73.

    He holds one “distinction” which I love. In 1969, for St. Louis, he pitched twice in relief, failing to retire a batter either time, and yielding an earned run. He is one of only 14 pitchers in MLB history with an infinite ERA. Of those 14, he is the only one who had more than one pitching appearance. 

    Late in his career, he was an excellent pinch hitter for the Dodgers. In Game 3 of the 1977 NLCS vs the Phillies, LA was down 5-3 with two outs in the ninth and no one on base. Davalillo came up to pinch hit and surprised the defense with a perfect drag bunt. A flurry of hits tied the game and LA won in extra innings. They won the pennant the next day. 

    Davalillo’s play in the Venezuelan Winter League was legendary. All told, he played in it for 30 years, from 1957 to 1987, retiring at age 50. A stadium in Venezuela is named in his honor as well as the league’s MVP award.

    ??

    Here he is, later in life. Rest in peace, Victor.

    Commenter Pete shared this cute note on Rex’s blog:

     “I sent my musician wife a text saying ’… your vibrator was really good last night.’  Auto-check didn’t like my typing of vibrato.”

    The unusual word PSALTER was in the puzzle today, clued with “Book of hymns.” Here’s how psalter could be used in a psentence: That’s psome psorry psalter — my psalad is way too psalty.

    She requested that we not go “cray cray” (which was the clue at 2D today for LOCO), or OVERDO IT (which was the answer at 3D), but we have to at least note that she’s 34 today — Happy Birthday, Taylor! (Volodymyr’s here today, TS, and he and Olena wish you the best.) It’s also the first day you can stream her ERAS tour concert film (for $19.89) at home. So — what are you waiting for?

    Thanks for popping in. See you tomorrow!