The Wellington Files

  • Echo Majors

    At 44A yesterday, the clue was “‘I, personally, wouldn’t boast about that.’” The answer was an expression I had never heard: WEIRD FLEX BUT OK. Let’s unpack it. First, to flex (as in one’s muscles) has taken on the meaning of “to boast.” Then you have the concept of boasting about something that you think is neat, but may not really be neat. E.g., “Hey, last weeked I ate 35 hot dogs and threw up all over my new car!” That would be called a “weird flex.” Finally, you have — Hey, that’s something weird to boast about, but whatever turns you on is fine with me: WEIRD FLEX, BUT OK.

    According to our friend Miriam W. the expression took off when a comic, Sarah Schauer, tweeted it in response to the rapist Brett Kavanaugh’s statement that he was a virgin in HS and for years after.

    Sarah seems likable. Here’s another tweet of hers: I was in line at the bookstore with my mom, and this guy behind me was talking shit about every woman in line: “her boobs are out . . . . those leggings are tight,” so I whispered “the guy behind us is looking at people’s boobs,” and my mom faces the guy and says “this guy is looking at women’s boobs??” Like she did that old person thing where they repeat everything you say and, tbh, I didn’t mind it this time. LMAO.

    At 20A, the clue was “____ Seymour, third wife of King Henry VIII.” The only name I could think of was JANE, the actress, but it was right! In fact, the actress was born Joyce Frankenburg, but took the stage name Jane Seymour after the historical figure! She’s 74 now and was a Bond girl in Live and Let Die.

    I sent an egg zerpt to Frank Bruni hoping for inclusion in his “For the Love of Sentences” feature. It’s from David Brooks’ piece in the NYT yesterday:

    “‘Sinful’ used to be a powerful, resonant, soul-shaking word.  Now it is mostly used in reference to desserts.”

    At 63A the clue was “According to experiments, they can’t ‘sleep’ in space.” For “sleep” you have to think of the yoyo trick — making the yoyo “sleep.” The answer is YOYOS. You need gravity for the trick so it cannot be done in space.

    Did you know there is an opposite to narcissism? It’s ECHOISM. It was in the puzzle today, clued with “Self-effacing personality trait.” It’s from way back in the origin of the myth. Echo, you see, was the nymph who fell madly in love with Narcissus. (Bad move. Just ask Trump’s wife, Malaria.) She was cursed to repeat the last few words she hears, i.e., to “echo” them. So echoists have no voice of their own and a fear of narcissism which leads to self-effacement, as the clue states.

    Here’s a shot of Echo, sadly watching Narcissus.

    Three items in today’s puzzle were: I GOTTA JET, clued with “Later!” TRADE WARS, clued with “New customs might incite them.” And KING ME, clued with “Demand upon reaching an ‘enemy border.’” (Think Checkers.) Here’s what egs put together:

    Reporter: Mr. President, what did you accomplish on your recent Middle East visit?
    Trump: IGOTTAJET
    Reporter: Any big plans for the coming days?
    Trump: TRADEWARS
    Reporter: And what would you ask the American people to do at this point?
    Trump: KINGME

    At 37A the clue was “Need anything else from me?” and the answer was AM I DONE?

    egs again:

    Shrink: Are you done with your crisis?
    Me: AM I DONE? No! I’m AMID ONE right now.

    Today’s puzzle was the hardest one I’ve seen in a while. Kudos to me for hacking my way through it. I had nothing the first time through, but slowly got little toeholds and was able to build off them. Here are two samples I had no idea on:

    60A: “Slower, musically.” Answer: MENO MOSSO.

    31D: “‘I don’t like it,’ in Spanish.” Answer: NO ME GUSTA.

    SRSLY?

    25A conjured up a sports figure whom I knew but who had to be a WOE (what on earth?) for most solvers: “M.L.B. third baseman Bohm.” It’s ALEC. He’s on the Phillies, but hardly a household name. He’s tall and good-looking, so it was no surprise to learn that his wife (and the love of his life) was this person:

    Her name is Jacque Darby, but it’s not a happy story. As far as I can tell, a DNA test revealed that the baby she had was not Alec’s. It led to his difficult decision to divorce her. Here’s Alec.

    We attended a memorial service for our dear friend Dan Reynolds today. It was beautiful. Many people spoke, from all the areas of his life, shedding a warm and wonderful light on his memory. Mary and the boys were remarkable. Friends Pam and Jack spoke very movingly — Pam got through it!! Good to see Roy, Didi, David, and Nancy too.

    Rest in peace Dan. You lived a good life.

  • The Catcher’s Attitude

    I have an account with Santander Bank. I tried to access my account on my phone but they said I couldn’t because I didn’t have a mobile phone number on file. If they had, they could send me a security code. Okay, so I went online via my laptop to update my profile to add the mobile phone number but they said I couldn’t because I didn’t have a mobile phone number on file! I am not kidding. I have to go to a branch office to do it. It’s a good thing I’m not driven to homicidal rages when things like this occur (much).

    It was not a good weather day for our ballgame on Tuesday. We took a chance even going. Not too many people took the chance. There were about seven of us in the stadium. (That’s an exaggeration, but it was pretty empty.) It was like having a private ballgame all to ourselves. Our seats were great. Just to the third base side of home, not very far up (300-level). And how often do you get to meet George Washington? (No. 1, for real.) Relaxing at the ballpark, in his Jim Harbaugh khakis.

    Jake Irvin was struggling but got out of jams in the first three innings and was all set to nurse our little 2-run lead home safely. But it was not to be. The Atlantans pounded him for five in the fourth, including two dingers, and we had to play catch-up the rest of the way and failed, falling 6-3 in the end. We enjoyed it nonetheless and stayed through eight innings until the wetness and cold got the better of us.

    A fan near us kept shouting instructions and encouragement. Usually that annoys me, the loudness, the boorishness. But I liked this guy. Very often he was shouting exactly what I was thinking, and he was funny.

    “Do not walk the leadoff man.”
    “Do not walk the leadoff man.”
    “Do not walk the leadoff man.”
    (Ball four)
    “I distinctly told you not to walk the leadoff man.”

    “Throw strikes.”
    “Let him hit; he can’t hurt us.”
    (Batter laces a sharp single to right.)
    “Okay — that one’s on me. That’s on me.”

    One reason we chose this game was “$5 Tuesday:” Hot dogs and beers for $5 each and cheap parking ($14). Hot dogs and beer at the ballpark — it’s the best lunch you can have. We enjoyed every bite.

    I took this shot as we were leaving. The few fans in attendance had left or took shelter from a sudden rain. You can see the players on the field with almost no one in the stands. An oddity.

    The poet Paul Zimmer turns 91 today, kinehora. Growing up in Canton, Ohio, his dream was to be a catcher for the Cleveland Indians. He had to give up that dream, but maybe not entirely. He said: “I have been a catcher all my life. Warehouse manager, technical writer, soldier, bookstore buyer, editor, publisher, husband, father, gardener, poet — I have borne the catcher’s attitude to all these tasks. I have given signals, received pitches, watched the field, kept my eye on the ball, avoided most cheap shots, backed up bases, stayed busy, chattered encouragement, made decisions.”

    The puzzle defeated me today. Yes, I know it’s only Thursday, but still. . .

    Right off the bat at 1A the clue was “Customizable, all-in-one internet digest.” What? It turned out to be RSS FEED. Still have no idea what that is, but that’s not what did me in. I got that through the crosses. What killed me were three short answers that crossed each other in the center: 28A “Equine hybrid (5 letters).” 28D: “Quality to which a unique six-character code is assigned, in graphic design (3).” 31A: “Terse reply to “Why? (3)”

    How’d you do? The answers are HINNY, HUE, and CUZ. (SRSLY, right?)

    I thought of jenny for the horse because that’s a type of donkey. Hue just didn’t come to me at all. And I thought of a shortened form of “because,” but didn’t think it was CUZ, because that’s a term of endearment (I hope it is) my cousins Dayle and Dianne call me.

    Oh, well. I’ll pat myself on the back for getting the rest of it — Rex rated it challenging, which is very very very rare for him.

    38D: “Constellation whose name is Latin for ‘lizard.’” LACERTA. (What?)

    From The Onion sportsdesk:

    Report Finds Majority Of Fumbles Recovered Within First 48 Hours

    Local News:

    Third Stepdad In Row Has Goatee

    Crossworld fave Paolo Pasco won his sixth Jeopardy! game yesterday and his total winnings so far are $162,117. He had been wagering very small amounts on Final Jeopardy, but he had to go big this time since the woman in second place could have reached him if she went big. The category was Novels and the the clue was “In April 2025 the Empire State Building was lit up green to celebrate the 100th anniversary of this novel’s publication.”

    I had no idea. I was thinking something Irish? It was The Great Gatsby. Both Paolo and the woman got it right. It brought him up to around $27K.

    Here are his two foes from his toughest fight (Monday). The kid on the right had him beat going into Final Jep. Seemed pretty stunned when P pulled the rug out.

    [Breaking news: Paolo won again tonight, easily. That’s #7 and another $33,000 or so.]

    Did you know that the state tree of South Dakota is the telephone pole?

    Baltimore has a real treasure of a movie theater: The Charles.

    After chillin’ for close to two hours with coffee and lunch at Dooby’s, we went over to see The Baltimorons, a new rom-com that takes place in Baltimore. We enjoyed it! Very likable “boy meets dentist” plot (lady dentist). It scored 93% with the critics at Rotten Tomatoes (85% with audiences). Brooklyn-born Olivia Luccardi is in it. Good job, girl! Hope to see more of you!

    Mark Timms of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) asks:

    I have just had a shower and found out your arms are just long enough to reach every square centimetre of your torso, with one arm you can wash the majority except for a small section of your upper back. This was just a personal experience: anyone out there able to wash their entire body single handed?

    Murray Atkinson: Nobody can wash their entire body with 1 hand… the elbow of that arm is the sticking point! I used to be able to do almost all the rest with either hand.. shoulders aren’t as flexible now!

    Roger Allen: I wouldn’t think that anyone can wash the posterior deltoid area of their shoulder with the same hand.

    Nick Morris: Not sure but I sit in the corner of the pub licking my eyebrows

    Graham Haddow: This is a very thoughtless, insensitive post. I have a frozen shoulder.

    Avi Liveson: Did someone say “torso?” Lydia the tattooed lady has eyes that folks adore so, and a torso even more so.

    Neil Stewart: I’d like to thank each and every member of Dull Men’s Club – UK Chapter for not posting any photos, let alone videos.

    Avi Liveson: Ouch.

    So the wife steps out of the shower and the husband steps in, and just then the doorbell rings. So the wife wraps a big white towel around herself and goes down to see who it is. It’s their neighbor, Lou. He takes one look at her and says: If you let go of that towel, I’ll give you $300. She thinks for a second and then, voila. The towel drops, and he gives her the money. She wraps the towel around herself again and goes back upstairs. The husband yells out of the shower: “Who was it?” She says: “Lou from next door.” He says: “Did he say anything about the $300 he owes me?”

    Every sport has its “unwritten rules.” When you hit a home run, if you spend too much time watching it at the plate, flip your bat (arrogantly), and in general enjoy it just a little too much, you are “showing up” the pitcher, and you can expect a 95-mile-per-hour fastball thrown at your head your next at-bat. No question.

    But tennis is simply off the planet, apparently. Taylor Townsend (of the U.S.) and Jelena Ostapenko (Latvia) got into a face-to-face argument on the court sideline right after Townsend won their second-round match 7-5, 6-1 at the U.S. Open recently. Ostapenko told Townsend she has “no class and no education.” Ostapenko has been accused of racism, which she denied. She told Townsend to wait until we play outside the U.S. Townsend said: “Bring it.”

    Ostapenko later explained what ticked her off so much. First, Townsend was “disrespectful” for not saying “sorry” after being helped by a net cord during a point. (Gasp.) AND Townsend began warming up before the match up at the net, instead of back at the baseline. Shoot her!! (While most players begin at the baseline, Townsend has started with volleying for years.)

    Townsend had the last word: “The thing that I’m the most proud of is that I let my racket talk. Because ultimately, I’m the one here, sitting in front of you guys, moving on to the next round, getting the next check, moving on, being able to still be here and speak to you guys, and that’s what’s the most important,” Townsend said. “She’s packed up and she’s gone.” Hey, T, no one likes a sore winner.

    What we take out of this: Don’t f*ck with a Chicago girl.

    See you tomorrow Chatterheads. Thanks for popping in.

  • Cabbage

    From Sunday’s Met Diary, this piece is by Neal Haiduck.

    Dear Diary:

    It was February 2013. With a foot of snow expected, I left work early and drove from New Jersey warily as my wipers squeaked and snow and ice stuck to my windows.

    I drove east on the Cross Bronx Expressway, which was tied up worse than usual. Trucks groaned on either side of my rattling Toyota. My fingers were cold. My toes were colder. Got to get home before it really comes down, I thought to myself.

    By the time I got home to my little red bungalow a stone’s throw from the Throgs Neck Bridge, the snow was already up to my ankles.

    Inside, I took off my gloves, hat, scarf, coat, sweater, pants and snow boots. The bed, still unmade, was inviting me. But first, I checked my messages.

    There was one from Teresa, the 92-year-old widow on the corner.

    “Call me,” she said, sounding desperate.

    I looked toward the warm bed, but … Teresa. There was a storm outside, and she was alone.

    On went the pants, the sweater, the coat, the scarf, the boots and the gloves, and then I went out the door.

    The snow was six inches deep on the sidewalks, so I tottered on tire tracks in the middle of the street. The wind stung my face. When I got to the end of the block, I pounded on her door.

    “Teresa!” I called. No answer. “Teresa!” I called again. I heard the TV blaring. Was she sprawled on the floor?

    I went next door and called for Kathy.

    “Teresa can’t answer the door,” I said. “Probably fell.”

    Kathy had a key. In the corner of her neat living room, Teresa, in pink sweatpants and sweaters, was sitting curled in her armchair, head bent down and The Daily News in her lap.

    I snapped off the TV.

    Startled, she looked up.

    “Kathy! Neal!” she said. “What’s a five-letter word for cabbage?

    [Owl Chatter: MONEY?]

    We must speak out about the tipification of America. We took three of the g’kids out for frozen yogurt last week. They each took a cup and dispensed the yogurt themselves. (I helped Isaac a little.) Then they selected and took their own toppings. I was braced for the cost to be roughly the size of the defense budget, so after they put their cups on the scale, I wasn’t too shocked at the price ($26). I tapped my credit card on the little mechanism and a screen came up asking if I would like to add a tip. I was given the choice of 10%, 15%, or 20%, or I could add a “custom” tip in any amount that I would like to enter. There was also one small option in the corner for “no tip.”

    I asked the young man behind the counter: “Whom am I being asked to tip?” He said “Me.” (He was the only one there.) I said, “What service should I consider when determining the amount? What service did you provide?” He said, “What do you mean?” I said, “We got our own cups, we got our own yogurt, we got our own toppings, we placed everything on the scale ourselves. Is the service you’re providing ‘taking our money?’ Actually, you didn’t even do that — I worked the credit card thingie myself. So my question is, what service did you provide that I am tipping you for?” He said: “Well you can press ‘no tip’ if you want.” I said, “Okay. That seems to make the most sense under the circumstances.”

    [OC Note: The conversation in the above paragraph did not take place anywhere outside of my imagination. I did press “no tip” though — you can be damn sure of that.]

    The Jets laid an egg on Sunday. Ouch. Enough said. Last week they lost but looked okay. This week they lost and didn’t. They looked the opposite of okay.

    Here’s Sauce Gardner. Best nickname ever.

    Oh no! Wifi in our room is too weak to support us. May be a break in broadcasting.

    Will resume when we can. Weather is iffy too. Gnats game is threatened.

    Later.

  • Wonder Woman

    Welcome to Post #877. That’s not VFW Post #877: it’s Owl Chatter Post #877. Who would have ever imagined there’d be so much nonsense in the world to revel in? Special thanks to the Chatterheads who’ve stuck with it for so long: both of you!

    We’re especially excited today because we already know how we’re ending today: with an exquisite six minutes of piano music composed by LUDOVICO EINAUDI. Luddy to his friends (probably not) spanned the entire grid yesterday (a Saturday-level name, for sure). He was clued with “Italian pianist who composed the scores for ‘Nomadland’ and ‘The Father.’”

    The Gnats only have fourteen games left. Three of them are in NY against the Mets and will be key to the latter’s playoff hopes. Things looked bleak for the Washington squad as they dropped their last eight contests in August. Ouch. You had to figure morale was low and they’d just limp pathetically through the rest of the season. But they hit September running, taking eight of their first eleven games, pounding out fifteen runs in one of them. Would you have ever guessed they’d only be four games behind the Braves at this point? Of course, the Braves really stunk it up this year.

    The young gnucleus of Gnats we are hopeful about are the established stars Abrams at short and Wood in the outfield, and Crews and Lile, also outfielders, who look like the real deal. We hope they keep big Josh Bell (he just turned 33). The pitching rotation (starters) could be solid, especially if Josiah Gray comes back from surgery strongly. The bullpen has a couple of good arms but could use a few more. We’ll see what the new regime does in the off-season.

    Linda and I are heading down to say goodbye to the boys at their day game on Tuesday vs. the Atlantans. It’s a rescheduled rainout so we were able to score great seats for a song on Stubhub. Take me out to the ballgame. . . Hey that would be a great XW clue: small amount to pay for an item: SONG.

    Here’s a very Steve Postian item from today’s Met Diary. It’s called “Friendly Dog,” and is by Elizabeth Levine.

    Dear Diary:

    I was walking near Sutton Place Park, and a man with a tail-wagging dog was walking nearby.

    I love dogs and I wanted to pet this one, so I asked the man whether his dog was friendly.

    “Yes,” he said, continuing on his way. “But I’m not.

    At 27A yesterday, the clue was “Batman : Bruce :: Wonder Woman : _____.” It was asking for the first name of Wonder Woman’s civilian identity. Turns out it’s DIANA. Full name: Diana Prince. She has several different origin stories. The most enduring is that she was sculpted from clay by her mother, Queen Hippolyta, and given a life as an Amazon along with superhuman powers as gifts from the Greek gods.

    For a time, she had no powers! Gloria Steinem was responsible for the return of Wonder Woman’s original abilities. Offended that the most famous female superhero had been depowered into a boyfriend-obsessed damsel in distress, in 1972 Steinem placed Wonder Woman (in costume) on the cover of the first issue of Ms.

    Just months before the decision in Roe v. Wade, science fiction author Samuel R. Delany planned a story for Ms. that culminated in a plainclothes Wonder Woman protecting an abortion clinic. However, Steinem disapproved of Wonder Woman being out of costume, and the controversial story line never happened.

    In 2015, Wonder Woman became the first superhero to officiate a same-sex wedding in a comic series. WW herself is bisexual.

    Literally dozens of women have portrayed or voiced Wonder Woman over the years. Here’s Natalie Alyn Lind, who did so in 2023.

    At 45A, for the clue “Pooped,” the answer was PLUM TUCKERED OUT. Quite a few commenters thought the expression should use “plumb” and not plum. I thought plum was right, but it looks like plumb is righter (so to speak). It comes from a plumb line that gives you an exact vertical line. So if it’s out of plumb it’s not straight — not perfect. So plumb took on the meaning of completely. And expressions arose like plumb out of luck or plumb tuckered out. It morphed into plum out of luck, etc. over the years.

    And how about 43A where the clue was “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” We all know that word from Mary Poppins, but what does it mean? In particular: what does it mean in four letters? Well, it’s a nonsense word but it is used for someone who is terrific, hence the answer today: A-ONE.

    39A: “Botanical bristles.” I really bristled at that one. Had no idea the answer was AWNS. Apparently, it was a very popular word in crosswords pre-Will Shortz. Yup, here’s the dictionary on it: a stiff bristle, especially one of those growing from the ear or flower of barley, rye, and many grasses. Note, below, the distinction between an awn and the others: the rachilla, the first and second florets, and the upper and lower glumes.

    In the following photo, you can ignore segment C, bottom right. That’s my dental x-ray. I don’t know how it got in there. I really need to floss more.

    What a treat for us today! — a Ted Kooser poem in The Writer’s Almanac. It’s called “Student.”

    The green shell of his backpack makes him lean
    into wave after wave of responsibility,
    and he swings his stiff arms and cupped hands,

    paddling ahead. He has extended his neck
    to its full length, and his chin, hard as a beak,
    breaks the surf. He’s got his baseball cap on

    backward as up he crawls, out of the froth
    of a hangover and onto the sand of the future,
    and lumbers, heavy with hope, into the library.

    This is a cartoon for those of you who, like me, feel there are way too few cartoons about mimes.

    And here’s the piano piece by Einaudi I promised you. Hope you’ve got six minutes to let it wash over you. See you tomorrow!

  • Porkpie Panache

    First it was Taylor and Travis. Next Fawn and Ollie. Who’s next? How about these two? They just announced their engagement.

    That’s Liam Hemsworth and Gabriella Brooks. Hard to say who’s prettier. When asked what he got Gabriella as an engagement gift, Liam said, “I haven’t decided yet, but someone should get the girl a cellphone. She’s using giant shells off the beach, for Pete’s sake.”

    Paolo won his second Jeopardy! bout last night, doing even better than on his first win. He’s won over $50,000 in total now. A math teacher jumped out to a scary early lead, but wilted at the $10,000 mark. When he was over $30K and already way ahead, Paolo whiffed on final jep (they both did), but he only wagered a few hundred bucks.

    The category was “Today Spelling Counts.” The clue was “The winning word at the first Scripps National Spelling Bee was this, a plant & genus with sword-shaped leaves now on the trophy.” The correct response was gladiolus. The wrong answer they both tried was a good guess: Laurel.

    Looking forward to seeing how he does tonight.

    [Breaking news: He just won again! His total is close to $80,000 now. Should be able to pay his electric bill soon.]

    Have you had a life-long dream? Me neither — why bother? But Kent Broussard did. He’s 66 now and he worked hard to make it come true. That’s him in the middle. Looks like an accountant, amirite?

    Kent first heard the LSU marching band play at Tiger Stadium when he was 13-years old. It made an impression, and then some. I can see it — I was 57 when I first saw the Michigan band march across the field in full blare. Gave me goose bumps. Kent took his bride there as a newlywed, and when they had daughters, he took them too “as if passing down an heirloom of sound,” Ira Gorawara wrote in the NYT.

    We let go of so many things in life; so many passions and people diminish for us and drift off. Kent never let go. When he retired as an accountant he uprooted and moved to Baton Rouge. He worked hard to get in shape: the marching band is physically demanding. He had started running when he was 50 and more recently added on weight training. He relearned how to read music and took tuba lessons for a year. He marched around his neighborhood with it, practicing. And then, he pulled the trigger and enrolled in LSU as a nonmatriculated student and auditioned for the band.

    Here’s how the Times described what happened next:

    “On a Thursday night in late August, after five days of preseason drills, every Tiger Band hopeful huddled over their phones, waiting for the roster to drop at 7 p.m. In the tuba room, a countdown began. Heart thudding, Kent scrolled alphabetically through the names. The first two sousaphone spots went to newcomers, signaling hope he might be next.

    “’Oh, my God, I made it,’ he blurted, jumping up and down amid the raucous cheers.”

    At one point, when the band played in the big stadium at the first home game, Kent appeared on the giant scoreboard screen. Kent’s daughter Lauren vowed to stay composed but it was hopeless. She had seen how hard he worked for so many years. She held on to her mom and weeped.

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

    Ciao sachet chum, porkpie panache,
    you ditsy-dots chatelaine.

                Takes that much work to be a fairy
          with a hoyi-hoyi-hoyi.

    Rosa Roisinblit (nee Tarlovsky) died in Buenos Aires, Argentina, on Saturday at the age of 106. What an incredible woman.

    In what the scholar Ronald Dworkin called a “system of licensed sadism,” Argentina’s military dictatorship “disappeared,” tortured and killed roughly 30,000 Argentinians during its “Dirty War” from 1976-1983. Among them was Rosa’s daughter who was 8-months pregnant and son-in-law. Her daughter’s 15-month old girl, Mariana, was also taken but released.

    Rosa was warned to just shut up and get on with her life but was having none of that. She filed a habeas corpus petition for her daughter and scoured orphanages and hospitals. The petition was rejected but she learned that her daughter gave birth to a son who was given to a childless military couple. The same had happened to hundreds of babies born to women who were kidnapped and later killed.

    For 33 years Rosa served as an officer of “Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo,” a group dedicated to finding their stolen grandchildren. They rallied international support, followed up on tips, and employed genetic testing methods to establish identity. About 140 were returned to their families, and roughly 300 remain stolen.

    The group was a big deal. This photo is of a march of 400,000 in 2024 in support of the Grandmothers.

    In their statement announcing Rosa’s death, the Grandmothers organization said: “The greatest recognition she received is that of the grandchildren she found, who at every meeting embraced her as if she were their own grandmother.”

    Rosa never saw her daughter or son-in-law again, but Mariana received a tip in 2000 that led to the recovery of her brother, Rosa’s grandson Guillermo. Guillermo renounced the couple that raised him, who he said were abusive, and took the name Roisinblit.

    At the age of 96, Rosa faced in court the men accused of kidnapping her daughter and son-in-law. One of them was one of the last surviving members of the dictatorship’s inner circle.

    Rosa’s obit in the NYT was written by Adam Nossiter. He ended it with the following:

    The judge asked Ms. Roisinblit if she was prepared to tell the truth.

    “I never stop telling the truth,” Ms. Roisinblit replied. “It’s a trait of mine.”

    The judge asked her how many children she had. Ms. Roisinblit hesitated.

    “I had a daughter. But I don’t anymore,” she answered.

    The men all were all found guilty and sentenced to prison for long terms.

    “I need the Argentine state to tell me who took them,” Ms. Roisinblit said in court, at the end of her testimony. “Why it took them. Who gave them a trial. Who convicted them. Where are they?” she asked. “I want to find the remains of my children, because then I’d have a place to lay a flower.”

    Here’s Rosa with a photo of her daughter. Below that is Rosa with her grandson Guillermo.

    Rest in peace, Rosa.

    Yikes. Let’s get back to nonsense. This is from The Onion.

    Trump Renames White House Fridge Department Of Ham

    WASHINGTON—Fulfilling his pledge to realign the mission of the White House kitchen with the vision of the Founding Fathers, President Donald Trump signed an executive order this week officially renaming the White House refrigerator the U.S. Department of Ham. “When Thomas Jefferson had the first ice house installed in 1801, the name Department of Ham was chosen to show the world our ability to eat cold cuts at a moment’s notice,” said Trump at the Oval Office signing ceremony, adding that when Harry Truman changed the appliance’s name to “fridge” in 1947, it “weakened the nation’s image” and disrespected the men and women throughout the country’s history who have enjoyed fresh deli meat at any time of day. “The Department of Ham is a beautiful name that conveys tremendous strength when it comes to cured pork, and it in no way downplays the strategic importance of turkey, salami, or even pre-packaged smoked salmon. “The restoration of this name will return this storied 28-cubic-foot department to its former glory.”

    See you tomorrow! Thanks for popping by.

  • Giraffe Dies

    Hall of Fame ice hockey goalie Ken Dryden died on Friday at the age of 78. Cancer slipped one between his pads. I remember when I was at Brandeis the Bruins dominated play until Montreal brought Dryden up from the minors in early March (’71). He played in six regular season games, allowing only nine goals and then carried the Canadiens to the Cup in the playoffs.

    Dryden was 6′ 4″. Phil Esposito scored 76 goals that year, but when Dryden stopped a shot of his at point-blank range in the playoffs, Espo shouted at Dryden, “You thieving giraffe!” and smashed his stick against the glass. Dryden later said he could see defeat in the Bruins’ faces after that.

    Dryden earned a degree in history at Cornell where he played college hockey and a law degree at McGill. He was a Nader Raider as a law student. Later, he was a member of the Canadian Parliament for three terms, and wrote several books, including a highly regarded memoir “The Game.” He is survived by his wife Lynda, a sister, two children and four grandchildren, none of whom were ever able to put anything past him (well, maybe Lynda, now and then).

    As if falling off the wall weren’t indignity enough, a giant Humpty Dumpty that was part of a miniature golf course in Cape May, New Jersey, since 1964 was ripped off of its stand recently, vandalized, and left for dead several blocks away. The vicious attack was caught on tape and police are seeking the two young male perps.

    Officer Schneidermann of the Cape May Police said it was difficult informing Mr. Dumpty’s wife of the incident. “He loved sitting on that wall,” Mrs. D. said between sobs. “Everybody loves him. Who would do such a thing?” Fortunately, he only suffered some damage to his hand and his hat. He is expected to be repaired and eventually returned to his favorite spot overlooking the 14th hole.

    Phil was on the scene for photographs, but warns readers to look away if they are squeamish. It’s pretty gruesome.

    Per Owl Chatter: Trump To Award Charlie Kirk Presidential Medal of Freedom Posthumously Despite Not Knowing What Posthumously Means.

    This poem is called “poetry readings.” It’s by Charles Bukowski and is from today’s Writer’s Almanac.

    poetry readings have to be some of the saddest
    damned things ever,
    the gathering of the clansmen and clanladies,
    week after week, month after month, year
    after year,
    getting old together,
    reading on to tiny gatherings,
    still hoping their genius will be
    discovered,
    making tapes together, discs together,
    sweating for applause
    they read basically to and for
    each other,
    they can’t find a New York publisher
    or one
    within miles,
    but they read on and on
    in the poetry holes of America,
    never daunted,
    never considering the possibility that
    their talent might be
    thin, almost invisible,
    they read on and on
    before their mothers, their sisters, their husbands,
    their wives, their friends, the other poets
    and the handful of idiots who have wandered
    in
    from nowhere.

    I am ashamed for them,
    I am ashamed that they have to bolster each other,
    I am ashamed for their lisping egos,
    their lack of guts.

    if these are our creators,
    please, please give me something else:

    a drunken plumber at a bowling alley,
    a prelim boy in a four rounder,
    a jock guiding his horse through along the
    rail,
    a bartender on last call,
    a waitress pouring me a coffee,
    a drunk sleeping in a deserted doorway,
    a dog munching a dry bone,
    an elephant’s fart in a circus tent,
    a 6 p.m. freeway crush,
    the mailman telling a dirty joke

    anything
    anything
    but
    these.

    In the puzzle today, at 16D the clue was “Vices that are best abandoned,” and the answer was NASTY HABITS. You have any? Here’s MJ, 54 years ago, telling us about his. (He drinks tea at three, for one thing. Horrors.)

    So I asked the folks at the Dull Men’s Club (UK) why taking tea at three would be a nasty habit. Turns out back then (1971) tea was always taken at four.

    Phil!! What the hell did you say to these ladies?? Just back away calmly and run.

    At 14A the answer was WEN TAPE, and it made no sense to a bunch of solvers for a while. The clue was “Come unglued.” What?? That makes even less sense. Wait a minute: WENT APE. Okay. Never mind.

    Those types of answers are sometimes called DOOKs. It’s from a long time ago when one poor solver could not figure out what a dook was and why it was the answer until he realized it was DO OK.

    Here’s what a dook looks like. Not pretty.

    At 20D, “Dance pioneer Duncan” was, of course, ISADORA. She died a terrible death when she was only 50, riding in a convertible with a long scarf that got caught in the car’s wheel well and caused her to be pulled from the vehicle and break her neck. The scarf was a gift from her friend Mary Desti, who was the mom of Preston Sturges, the filmmaker.

    There was much in her life that was tragic as well: two of her children drowned when the car they were in with their nanny ran off the road and into the Seine. Desperate for another child, Isadora had another son, only to see him die shortly after birth. For fans of trivia, the father of her second child was a son of Isaac Singer — the sewing machine dude (not the Yiddish writer). Isadora was cremated and her ashes rest next to those of her children.

    We watched Jeopardy! last night to see how crossword ace Paolo Pasco would fare. He won! Came out with $20,009. He was struggling a bit in the first half, but they just about handed it to him in the second half, making one of the categories “anagrams.” Not really fair — he’s a wordplay ace. Anyway, he raced through it and there was no looking back. He nailed Final Jep for the last nail in the coffin, or icing on the cake if you prefer the less macabre. Looking forward to catching him again tonight.

    See you tomorrow! Thanks for dropping in.

  • From Steeplechase To Palisades

    You don’t need Owl Chatter to tell you that some people really like tattoos. I have no feelings about tattoos either way. I appreciate the artistry. I’ve never been moved to get one and I’m glad my kids don’t have any (that I know of). I don’t like not being able to change my mind. Anyway, Ella Emhoff is one of those people who very much like them. So this inked back might have made it into the White House: she’s Kamala Harris’s stepdaughter.

    Ella is a fashion designer, artist, and model. She’s 26 and earned a BFA at The New School. She lives in Bushwick, Brooklyn, where she is known as “the first daughter of Bushwick.” About her back tattoo, she posted: “I don’t even have words to describe how lucky I feel to have this piece by @rubymayquilter. All I have to say is… go get your back done.” She tagged her post “OUCH.”

    In addition to the giant swan on her back, she has over 20 smaller tattoos, all over the place. She inked two of them herself — one was a salmon with a flower in its mouth (photo not available). We like this one.

    And here she is, in the flesh. If you have a vague feeling of having seen her somewhere before, she spoke at the Democratic National Convention in 2020 and 2024.

    The puzzle today featured some modest wordplay: two-word phrases that repeated their word, with an S interceding. So, e.g., at 17A, “Skimpy serving of foie gras, say” was LIVER SLIVER. And at 53A, “Idahoan, say,” was TATER STATER.

    The clue at 4D threw me for a bit: “‘Richard of York gave battle in vain,’ for the colors of the rainbow.” My first thought was “What?” But then it came to me. Funny how the brain works. MNEMONIC. Its sibling is Roy G. Biv.

    Yesterday’s puzzle was more impressive, construction-wise, IMHO. The entire grid — all across and down answers, alternated vowels and consonants. E.g., in the answer OVERIMAGINATIVE, it’s vowel-consonant-vowel-consonant, etc. And the entire grid was that way. Also, to avoid the issue of whether/when Y is a vowel, the constructor, Marshall Herrmann, avoided using any Ys. Don’t believe me? Check it for yourself. (Even the black squares kept the pattern going.)

    At 38D, the clue was “Absurdly easy task.” CAKEWALK. You know this song?

    She took off a silver locket
    She said, “Remember me by this”
    She put her hand in my pocket
    I got a keepsake and a kiss
    And in the roar of dust and diesel
    I stood and watched her walk away
    I could have caught up with her easy enough
    But something must have made me stay

    And now I’m searching through these carousels and the carnival arcades
    Searching everywhere from steeplechase to palisades
    In any shooting gallery where promises are made

    First it was Taylor and Travis getting engaged. But have they been upstaged by Ollie and Fawn? Who could forget America’s sweetheart from the Iran-Contra scandal? The sultry Fawn Hall describing under oath how she snuck confidential papers out in her boots and clothing as every man in America raced for their heart pills. In case you need a reminder, here’s Fawn back in the day. Can you tell she has 35 folders full of classified material in her hair? It’s not bed head — it’s file cabinet head.

    So now — about 200 years later — Ollie North and she get married! Better late than never, kids! Phil got these wedding photos for us. (It may not actually be them, but you get the idea.)

    Since climbing stairs gets harder as we age, this post of Chris Corlett’s in the Dull Men’s Club (UK) caught my eye:

    Chris asks: How could this possibly work!? Or be safer for a frail old person than sitting in a chair!?

    Donna Watson: I’m definitely falling off that and breaking my neck.

    Jan Brady: Unless it’s like a reverse slinky

    Geoff Jenkins: He was 14 years old when he got on. Hasn’t moved in 50 years.

    Ken Irvine: I suspect you’d get better results from a large, inflatable Santa suit using helium.

    Mark Allen: A chap still has his dignity.

    Tim Weller: It works by ejecting the passenger with just the required propulsion for them to reach the top landing. There’s a dial on the side where the number of steps can be inputted to ensure the person doesn’t over or under-shoot. It’s a lot easier and less restrictive to install than a rail and can be run on propane or Jet A-1. Cycle helmet recommended.

    James Nolan: Boiiinggg.

    Tim: Comes with/without comedic sound effect module. Most folks find without more dignified.

    Let’s end today as we began. See you tomorrow!

  • Turtle Dies

    When I went to sleep last night things were not looking good for the Vikes and their young quarterback UMich’s JJ McCarthy in their game against the rival Chicago Bears. JJ had just thrown a “pick six,” which means his pass was intercepted and run back for a touchdown. Ouch. And he had been a dud up till then, passing for only 48 yards in the first half. But let’s step back a moment.

    JJ stands for Jonathan James and he’s from the Chicago area. In 2023, he led an undefeated Michigan squad to the National title, their first since 1997. He was drafted high by the Vikings but blew out his knee and missed all of 2024. So last night’s game was his pro debut. Want some more pressure? Minny had put all of its chips on JJ, letting their starting QB leave (Sam Darnold), and the game was in very hostile Bear territory.

    OK, so getting back to that pick six. Reportedly, JJ went up to his teammates after it and said: “That was my fault, but I’m going to make it up to you.” (Or words to that effect.) And he did. Minny roared back behind JJ in the fourth quarter scoring three TDs: two on passes by McCarthy, and one that he ran in himself. Final score: Minny 27, Bears 24.

    We’ll be keeping an eye on JJ and wish him continued success. Off the field, he’s becoming a dad for the first time this month, kinehora. Here’s the missus, proving once again that the quarterbacks get all the pretty girls. (And the tax professors, darling — they do too!)

    I was listening to BBC News on our public radio station WNYC this morning, and a woman who seemed quite intelligent used the expression “in the recent future.” Now I was still in bed, just waking up. So I figured it was me; that I misheard her. But then she said it again: “in the recent future.”

    Apparently, it is an expression that is gaining usage to mean “in the near future,” despite making absolutely no sense. I am bringing this to the attention of my brothers and sisters in the Dull Men’s Club (UK) immediately, and I will report back to you. When? You know damn well when: in the recent future.

    Miriam Webster’s “Word of the Day” yesterday was one of those words that has always troubled me: sanguine.

    Here’s what Miriam says: Sanguine is a formal word that today almost always describes someone who is confident and hopeful, or something that shows confidence and hopefulness. Sanguine can also describe something that is bloodred in color, something involving or relating to bloodshed, or a person’s reddish complexion.

    That’s one confused-ass word. Confident, hopeful, and relating to bloodshed?

    Here’s how M explains it: “During the Middle Ages, health and temperament were believed to be governed by the balance of different liquids, or humors, in one’s body: phlegm, black bile, yellow bile, and blood. [Yum!] Those lucky people who were governed by blood were strong, confident, and even had a healthy reddish glow (all that blood, you know)—they were, in a word, sanguine. In time, the physiological theory behind the humors was displaced by scientific medicine, but the word sanguine is still commonly used to describe those who are cheerfully confident.”

    Thanks Miriam!

    Mark Volman of The Turtles died. He was only 78. He founded the band with his high school buddy Howard Kaylan. Both were/are Jewish. They had a string of cheery hits. “Happy Together” (1967) was the only one to reach #1 on Billboard. (It knocked The Beatles’ Penny Lane off of the position. PL had only held it for a week.)

    They performed it on The Ed Sullivan Show and at a White House party hosted by Nixon’s daughter Tricia. Volman said they had a blast at the White House and that the Secret Service folks were especially nice. But the band broke up in 1970 after only a few years, apparently “not happy together” anymore. Fights over money and creative freedom took their toll.

    Volman and Kaylan continued performing as Flo and Eddie, including serving as backup singers on Bruce’s “Hungry Heart.”

    Mark grew up in LA and attended HS with classmate Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme. [Fromme was a member of the infamous Manson family. She was not involved in the Manson murders but spent 34 years in prison for attempting to kill Pres. Ford. She was released in 2009, and said the time went pretty fast. (No she didn’t.)]

    Get this: Later in life, Mark earned a bachelor’s degree in communications and a master’s degree in screenwriting at Loyola Marymount and became a professor at Belmont U. in Nashville, teaching classes on the music business. He was still touring, and said: “I’m touring while I’m teaching, so I’m a living part of this class. My students get to visualize it firsthand.”

    He was married to his high school sweetheart Patricia Lee Hickey for 25 years and they had two daughters. After they divorced he was married to his second wife Emily for 15 years. They divorced too, but she was referred to as his significant other in the death announcement. So we hope they were still happy together.

    The obit in the NYT ends as follows: Looking back on his life in 2023, Mr. Volman told People magazine, “It all sounds like a dream now. I’m just a groupie at heart.”

    Here are The Turtles on Ed Sullivan. Volman’s the Jew with the tambourines.

    OK, my post for the Dull Men’s Club (UK) generated a good bit of interest. It received 6 likes and a Wow, and over 40 comments (so far). Here’s what I wrote:

    “I am in New Jersey (in the U.S.) but was listening to the BBC news on my public radio station this morning. The woman speaking seemed intelligent but twice used the expression ‘in the recent future.’ It makes no sense but seems to be gaining usage to mean ‘in the near future.’

    “Brothers (and sisters) — please help this confused American understand this if you can.”

    Brian Mansfield: I apologise on behalf of the British people. Such nonsense should not be allowed on the airwaves.

    Avi Liveson: Accepted.

    Joe Murray: It’s to compensate for the broadcast delay.

    Richard Thresh: These days, broadcast media seems to take pride in slightly dumbing down our beautiful and expressive language. As a result, I’m beginning to largely eschew the BBC, as an increasing proportion of what is said on there is borderline incomprehensible. For many years my inner pedant has been kept on a tight leash, in a forlorn attempt to pander to the foibles of the easily offended. However, I fear that I shall soon have to unleash my more curmudgeonly persona and give in to those urges!

    Avi Liveson: A friend of mine likes to say: “I eschew it, and I spit it out.” [Hi Joe!]

    John Worledge: I’m British and can confirm that BBC standards have fallen so far that this now constitutes their version of English.

    Murray Atkinson: This is part of the modern trend.. get things wrong often enough and it catches on and becomes acceptable to those who think language still needs to evolve, while confusing those of us who try to to do it correctly.

    Rick Bedford: Ah… in the UK, we’re able to time travel limited time distances. She’s probably just been to the near future recently, thus, for her making it the recent future. Hope that helps.

    God Save the Queen!

    From The Onion:

    DOGE Employees Dig Up Arlington National Cemetery

    Agency Assures Public It’s Making Executive Branch More Efficient

    ARLINGTON, VA—In an initiative they described as a vital part of their effort to cut federal spending, officials at the Department of Government Efficiency reported Wednesday that they had dug up Arlington National Cemetery. “The American people gave the president a clear mandate to fight waste, fraud, and abuse by removing the freeloading corpses buried in these graves,” said acting administrator Amy Gleason, who argued that DOGE was simply cracking down on an “unpopular woke bureaucracy” when its fleet of bulldozers and excavators leveled the 400,000 white tombstones that marked the final resting place of armed service members and their immediate families. “Last week, we asked the U.S. Army to send us five things the bodies had accomplished recently, and we heard nothing back. So it’s possible this entire graveyard is a fraud against the American people. Some of these veterans have been dead for over 150 years. They’re no longer even authorized to be on this land.” At press time, a team of DOGE employees was seen continuing the effort to eliminate waste at the cemetery by loading the massive marble Tomb of the Unknown Soldier into a dump truck.

    Set your timers to 7pm (or whenever it’s on by you) tomorrow (9/10) to catch Jeopardy! Owl Chatter has received word that one of the contestants will be Paolo Pasco, winner of the American XW Puzzle tourney last year which we attended. Paolo is a terrific constructor, and a very funny and nice guy. Here he is with Wyna Liu, of the NYT puzzle staff. Sheesh, they look like brother and sister. (Hope that’s not racist.)

    Unable to get into a good college, Paolo was forced to go to Harvard where he earned a degree in Computer Sci and graduated in 2022. He’s a California boy, but lives in NY now. Should win big.

    See you tomorrow!

  • Tender Lacunae

    The school year has started up — not for me, — but for our magnificent seven: Robin (nee Lianna), Zoey, Leon, Raffi, Izzy, Morris, and Harold. Is that seven? Alright. Yes, even little Harold who turns one on 12/10, kinehora, is in school. The oldest, Robin, turns 16 in a few weeks and is sophomoric at Morristown (NJ) High. Go Colonials!

    And so it’s fitting that we open today with this note of reminiscence by Hannah Morrill in Wirecutter that made it into Frank Bruni’s “For The Love of Sentences.”

    “I’m in the aisles of Staples — no limits, no budget and no parents in eyeshot. My cart is loaded with slabs of loose-leaf paper, packs of unsharpened pencils, a row of yet-to-desiccate markers. There’s no subject I can’t conquer, no friend group I can’t infiltrate, no style trend I can’t master. In all the days since, and through all my life’s small and large moments — from first sips of morning coffee to the literal birth of my children — I’ve yet to top that boundless optimism of back-to-school shopping.”

    [Eyeshot!]

    Addendum: Davey Johnson. I learned some neat Johnson trivia today. He got the last hit Sandy Koufax surrendered before retiring. A single. It was in the sixth inning of the second game of 1966 World Series in which the Orioles swept the Dodgers. It was the first World Series ever won by Baltimore. The Dodgers only scored two runs in the entire series — both in the first game. And they only had three hits in two of the games and four hits in the other two. Jim Palmer bested Koufax in Game 2. The other Oriole winners were Dave McNally, Moe Drabowsky, and Wally Bunker. Don Drysdale took the loss in two of the games, and Claude Osteen in one.

    Johnson’s crowning achievement was managing the Mets to the 1986 World Series Championship, their only other win besides the 1969 “miracle.” And did you know about Johnson’s link to the earlier one? Davey made the last out in the 1969 WS, flying out to Cleon Jones in left.

    Last, in 1978, Davey became the first player to hit two pinch-hit grand slam home runs in one season. He was with the Phillies and they were the only two homers he hit with the Phils that year. Daryl Strawberry, whom Davey later managed, hit two pinch-hit grand slams in 1998.

    [Side note: Strawberry is the only player to have played for all four teams with a NY heritage and no other teams. They are, of course, the Yankees, Mets, Dodgers, and Giants.]

    In today’s puzzle at 10A the clue was “Animal that moos,” and the answer was COW.

    How the f*ck are we supposed to know that? Do I look like I live on a goddamn farm?

    At 15D the clue was “Can-opening mechanism,” and the answer was POPTAB. I was okay with that. It seemed like a reasonable variant of poptop. But quite a few commenters would not abide it. Here’s Rex:

    “Somehow crossword constructors have convinced each other that POP TAB is a thing. Seven NYTXW appearances overall, four just since 2022. I’m guessing that the ‘tab’ part of a pop-top can is what’s meant by this ‘word,’ but I’ve never heard anyone actually use it and dictionaries are likewise giving a big shrug. I mean, it sounds like a thing, but I just don’t think it’s a thing.”

    And a Jimmy Buffett fan shared this lyric from “Margaritaville.”

    I blew out my flip-flop
    Stepped on a POP TOP
    I broke my leg twice, had to limp on back home.

    But then there’s this for the TAB people:

    Let’s give Anony Mouse the last word:

    “We always called pop (soda) can openers pop tabs. Back in high school we had a whole thing about them and you saved them for your girl (or boy) friend and could cash them in for kisses. If you got the tab off with the swivel piece intact, that was worth more…”

    [Exactly how much more we’ll leave to your imagination.]

    While we’re on the topic, did you know that the “Flower symbolizing early love” is the LILAC? Now they tell me.

    At 2D the clue was “Higher than on the totem pole,” and the answer was ABOVE. But did you know the idiom “low man on the totem pole” is culturally insensitive? Rex cited this from Forbes.com:

    “Totem poles are sacred objects used by many Indigenous and Alaska Native Nations of the Pacific Northwest to honor a deceased ancestor or share an important event. This idiom denigrates these sacred objects. Further, the idea that the lowest figure on the totem pole is the least important is also incorrect. In actuality, the designs on the bottom are often considered the most prestigious because they are the ones that will be seen at eye level.”

    We’ll close tonight with this poem by Sonia Gernes. It’s called “Little Sisters” and was in today’s Writer’s Almanac. It is not for the faint of heart. See you tomorrow.

    This birthday I have reached the age
    where my mother bore
    the last of her dead daughters—
    one that was whisked away
    before its first clean cry
    could scour the naked room, the later two
    a blue that refused to brighten.

    “Baby Girl, Infant Daughter of …”
    the little markers said
    and I listened from behind the stove
    in her last pregnancy,
    watched her body swell and sag,
    knew from the shape
    of those whispered words
    that something was amiss—
    she was weighted already
    with two small stones.

    Summer mornings I called them forth—
    the little sisters I had never seen—
    made them faces
    from the old ache
    in the air above the garden,
    hair like mine
    from the grassy space
    where root crops should have been.

    I learned of blood tests, transfusions,
    the factor called Rh,
    my little sisters
    dreaming their aquatic days
    on lethal ropes, my mother
    almost dead.

    Now at the kitchen table
    lighting candles on a cake,
    I am empty-handed,
    empty-wombed,
    no daughters to give her
    as she counts again
    my miraculous birth,
    fourth and forceps-born,
    her last survivor in that war
    of blood with family blood.

    I reach for her hand and hold it,
    but there are spaces here,
    tender lacunae we cannot fold away.
    Still somewhere the hand-stitched garments,
    the gingham quilts, the counting game.
    Still the soot-smudged corner
    where I crouched beneath the stovepipe
    and fingered like a rosary
    the small pebbles of their names.

  • Davey Johnson

    Jeez Louise — does Edwin Diaz play for the Mets, or for the American Association of Cardiologists? The Mets took a one-run lead over Cincy into the bottom of the ninth and called on Diaz to finish up. But before you could say “Kyle Finnegan,” he gave up a hit and two walks so the bases were loaded with no outs. Ouch.

    Time to hunker down, ED. Well, it looked like he walked the next batter Noelvi Marte with a pitch that was inside, but Marte swung! Strike three. One out. Whew. Things got a little weird after that. The count went to 1-2 on the Reds’ brilliant shortstop, Elly de la Cruz (below), but then Diaz came off the mound and motioned to his catcher to visit, along with the home plate ump. He was showing them something on the bottom of his shoe and a new pair was eventually brought out from the dugout. He tried one on and then asked if they had something in a wingtip. (No he didn’t.) Apparently, the front cleat had come loose. It’s important because it’s what you land on when you pitch. The new shoe was fine and Diaz took the mound again. The count on de la Cruz was still 1-2, of course, and Diaz drilled a low fastball right by him for the second out. Wow. Who knows if the long break had an impact?

    Next up was pinch hitter Gavin “Lux Liquid” Lux, good-looking ex-Dodger. He drilled a hard grounder towards the gap between the two right-side infielders. But second-baseman Acuna made a nice stop, and Diaz took the throw covering first beautifully. Game over. Mets win. Most impressive that with all the stress and distractions, Diaz stuck to the basics and covered first smoothly.

    Never in doubt.

    Here are Elly and Edwin.

    This beautiful bird is a Eurasian blue tit.

    One flew by the puzzle today at 55D (“Small songbird”). There was a post on songbirds recently in the Dull Men’s Club (UK) which I may have had a hand in getting removed. A woman discussed several songbirds in a comment and ended by saying she loved blue tits. And since I’m really still ten years old, I replied: “Who doesn’t?” The next time I visited, it had all disappeared. (Tee hee.)

    Davey Johnson died. He was 82. He managed the Mets to 595 regular season wins: the most in franchise history (along with 417 losses). In 1986 his Mets won the World Series over Boston. Game Six was the infamous Bill Buckner game. His lifetime managerial record was 1372-1071. He is the only manager with more than 300 wins above .500 not in the Hall of Fame.

    He earned a degree in math at Trinity College and was an early user of data-driven baseball strategies. “I used to work on this program I called ‘Optimizing the Orioles Lineup,’” Johnson said in 1995, “and I would run it through the computer and bring the data to Earl Weaver. I found out that if I hit second instead of seventh, we’d score 50 or 60 more runs and that would translate into a few more wins. I gave it to him, and it went right into the garbage can.”

    As a player, Davey was a power-hitting second baseman for the Orioles; a 4-time All-Star, and 3-time Gold Glove winner. He is survived by his wife Susan who founded Support Our Scholars, a charity that provides mentoring and scholarships to high-potential, low-income students in Central Florida. Susan’s children were Davey’s stepchildren. Sadly, Jake, who was deaf and blind, died from pneumonia in 2011 at the age of 34. Andrea died in 2005 from septic shock and complications from schizophrenia.

    Rest in peace, Davey.

    Closing shop early today — need to settle into deep prayer for the Michigan-Oklahoma game down south. Thanks for dropping in.