The Wellington Files

Gaylord Perry was named after a close friend of his father’s who died while having his teeth pulled. Think of that the next time you’re in the chair. And if you need small talk: “Hey Doc — did you know . . . . ?”

Perry himself, the Hall of Fame pitcher, died last Thursday, nondentally, at age 84. His daughter Allison said he caught Covid last year and never fully recovered. He and his brother Jim combined to win 529 games, only ten behind the leading brother-team of Phil and Joe Niekro. Perry’s career spanned 22 years and he played for eight teams, including the Yanks for part of the 1980 season. He went 4-4 with the Yanks. He played longest for the Giants, his first team, and is wearing their cap on his HOF plaque. He’s with the Mariners towards the end of his career at 44 pictured below on an autographed card from my collection.

Perry was famed for throwing “spitters” which are illegal, but he was only thrown out of a game once for doing so, and that came after more than 20 years on the mound. Gene Tenace, his catcher when he was with the Padres, said he sometimes couldn’t throw the ball back to Perry: it was so greasy it slipped out of his hand. He’d walk it back to the mound on those occasions. Reggie Jackson was once so infuriated by striking out on a Perry spitter that he hurled a bucket of Gatorade onto the field and told the ump Perry could use that on the ball. Jackson was tossed from the game; not Perry. Bobby Murcer, similarly infuriated, excoriated the Commissioner and the American League office for “lacking the guts” to apply the rules, and he was fined $250 for his outburst. Shortly thereafter Murcer hit a home run off of Perry, and remarked to the press: “I got hold of a hanging spitter.”

Two days after his 30th birthday, Perry threw a no-hitter for the Giants beating the Cards and Bob Gibson 1-0. The next day Ray Washburn of the Cards no-hit the Giants. It was the only time in the history of baseball that no-hitters were pitched on consecutive days in a series.

Perry was a terrible hitter, and in 1963 his manager Alvin Dark jokingly said there would be a man on the moon before Perry hit a home run. On July 20, 1969, just an hour after Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the moon, Perry hit the first home run of his career.

He won the Cy Young award twice, and was the first pitcher to do so in both leagues: in ’72 with Cleveland and in ’78 with San Diego, at age 40. He won 314 games with a lifetime ERA of 3.11 and had 3,534 strikeouts. He never played in the World Series and was in the post-season only once, in 1971 for the Giants against Pittsburgh, and he went 1-1 in the series.

The spitball was first outlawed by baseball in 1920, more than 40 years before Perry’s debut. When it was first introduced, several designated pitchers who were accustomed to doctoring the ball were allowed to continue to do so until they retired.

When his daughter Allison was just 5 years old, a reporter asked her if her dad threw spitballs. “It’s a hard slider,” she replied.

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Here are some follow-up comments from Rex’s blog about ketchup and its flow (see my previous post). “Thixotropic,” a new word for me, means capable of liquifying when agitated and re-solidifying when standing still.

“While I’m being pedantic, and since were having a ketchup discussion, ketchup behaves the way it does because it’s thixotropic. I have to bring this up whenever I can because opportunities are limited.”

And later:

“Proudly thixotropic here. Plopped down and blob-like in my favorite easy chair, I can barely move. Occasionally I become less viscous out of necessity, usually when a sandwich is located across the room in the refrigerator.”

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Yesterday’s puzzle started right out with a splash. Or, actually, a mash. One across was clued as “1962 #1 hit that the BBC once deemed ‘too morbid’ to play.” MONSTER MASH.

Monster Mash came out as a single in August of 1962 and, fittingly, rose to #1 on Billboard’s hit list in the week preceding Halloween that year. It’s still seasonally popular, and made it onto the list at #37 in 2021. It’s by Bobby “Boris” Pickett and started out by him fooling around with a Boris Karloff imitation with his band. He composed it with a band-mate (Leonard Capizzi) and recorded it with a group of musicians including Leon Russell on piano. The song is featured in a Simpsons episode (what isn’t?), when radio presenter Marty accidentally played it for Valentine’s Day. Here are some of the lyrics:

From my laboratory in the castle east
To the master bedroom where the vampires feast
The ghouls all came from their humble abodes
To get a jolt from my electrodes

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“Inclination to prioritize new events over historical ones,” is RECENCY BIAS (58A). It’s a cognitive bias that favors recent events over historic ones; a memory bias. Recency bias gives “greater importance to the most recent event,” such as the final lawyer’s closing argument a jury hears before being dismissed to deliberate. It is not to be confused with “recency illusion,” the belief or impression that a word or language usage is of recent origin when in reality it is long-established.

Recency bias can skew investors into not accurately evaluating economic cycles, causing them to continue to remain invested in a bull market even when they should grow cautious, and refrain from buying assets in a bear market because they remain pessimistic. Lists of superlatives such as “Top 10 Superbowls,” are prone to distortion due to recency bias.

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TASHA Smith popped by. You may have seen her in “Why Did I Get Married”? (I didn’t; nor am I raising the question, darling!) Love the hair, Tash!

Speaking of hair, a good clue was “Ones long in the tooth?,” and the answer was AFRO PICKS.

And MAE Jemison stopped in, now that she is back on the planet. She was the first Black woman in space!

She can hang with supermodel TYRA Banks, who we are told at 56 down “coined the term ‘smizing,’” which means “smiling with your eyes.” Great new word for the Covid era. Way to go, TB! Here’s a nice example of smizing.

I was at a doc’s office last year and the nurse was taking my vitals (after assuring me she’d give them back when she was done with them). She asked me to take off my mask so she could take my temperature, and when I did so she recoiled in surprise. “Wow — I wasn’t expecting that moustache,” she explained. I smized.

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Today’s puzzle. Remember AVA Gardner? Despite her puzzle-friendly name, I don’t recall seeing her in a while. She was born in Grabtown (not kidding), NC on 12/24/22, and died 32 years ago at age 67. She was nominated for a Best Actress Oscar for Mogambo in 1953. In 1999, the American Film Institute ranked her #25 on their greatest female screen legends of classic American cinema list (Katherine Hepburn is #1).

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It was a fun puzzle. “Quite the reverse,” was the clue for SWITCHEROO, and HEE HEE (“Couple of laughs?”) was right on top of JOLLITY (“good cheer”). At 47D, Bette Midler and Miss Piggy shared the clue for DIVA. And pretty Katherine Ross popped by, clued for her role so long ago in The Graduate. Quite a collection of ladies today, assembled by our constructor, Kate Hawkins.

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25A was a four-letter answer that I needed every crossing letter to get. The clue was “Brain-tingly feeling that may come from hearing whispering or crinkling, in brief,” and the answer was ASMR, which stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response.  It’s a tingling sensation that usually begins on the scalp and moves down the back of the neck and upper spine. It signifies low grade euphoria. Whispering and crinkling sounds are included among ASMR triggers. Many ASMR-inducing videos are available on YouTube. Here’s a comment:

“Many, many years ago in a guided meditation class, I noticed that the leader’s soft, soothing voice caused tingles up my spine. I never forgot the sensation. Same sort of feeling as when someone gently plays with or brushes your hair. Fast forward to the present, when I realized there’s a name for that tingling sensation: ASMR. Not everyone gets it. Check out the YouTube videos sometime. Everyone’s triggers are different, but when you figure out what yours are, the right videos can be wonderfully relaxing and sleep-inducing.”

OK, but keep your creepy fingers out of my hair.

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For “Empty bottles?” the answer was TOPE, which means “to drink alcohol to excess.” Commenter Conrad shared this:

Unaware of the wiles of the snake in the grass
Or the fate of the maiden who TOPEs,
She lowered her standards by raising her glass,
Her courage, her eyes, and his hopes.
— Flanders & Swann, “Madeira M’Dear”

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Michigan aims for the Big Ten Football title tonight against Purdue. Slightly worried about a let-down after the big Ohio State stomping. Sorry to see the USA men bow out of the World Cup. The Dutch were too good. How they even move in those silly wooden shoes is pretty impressive.

A special welcome to new friend Bogie — woof woof! No one can ever replace Susie, but we love you little guy! Nor says Bogie really loves taking walks. What a sweetheart! (Hi Norrie!)

If you read yesterday’s post, please do not confuse the horse with no name with the horse with a clock in its stomach from The Honeymooners. As you may recall, Ralph won the horse with a clock in its stomach in a pinball contest at a local pizza shop but failed to include it in his gross income, under Internal Revenue Code Section 61. It was worth $15. He thought this was the reason he was called in by the IRS. Norton went with him to the meeting — what are friends for? — and when the revenue agent mistook him for Ralph, Norton said: “He’s Kramden. I’m clean.” It turned out Ralph just forgot to sign his return, but he fessed up about the horse with a clock in its stomach, and the agent lauded him for being a good citizen.

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Yesterday’s theme was things that can be referred to via the letter K, but don’t start with a K. So from baseball there was the STRIKE OUT. And, “in a salary listing,” THOUSAND. From the periodic table: POTASSIUM, which someone noted has a big tuchas in the center. And, finally, “on a printer cartridge,” BLACK INK.

I wasn’t aware of that last one, but one commenter said: Having worked in publication design for years, I’m super familiar with the print color model CMYK (cyan, magenta, yellow, and black), the basis for almost all color printing for over a century. The reason K stands for black (and not B) is so as not to confuse it with B for blue, which later was used in the RGB (red, green, and blue) color model used in color TVs and monitors. [Note: RGB, in this context, does not refer to the late Supreme Court Justice Ruth Gader Binsburg.]

But later this appeared: I don’t want to be “that guy,” but the black is abbreviated K in CMYK because it stands for “Key,” not to avoid confusion with the B in Blue. In old printing presses, the black plate was the “key plate” that was used to align all three colors, so the inks were always identified as CMYK for this reason.

Okay. Thanks!

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In yesterday’s puzzle, 7 down was clued as “Baseball’s Felipe, Matty, Jesus or Moises,” and the answer was ALOU. But one commenter noted they left out Bob Alou. And another said, don’t forget about Cal Alou, the chef who specialized in Caribbean food. Or Boog Alou. Or the liveliest of the bunch: Skip Tom Alou. Quite a family. Here’s an autographed card of Moises Alou from my collection:

Moises had a heckuva career, with a lifetime batting average of .303 with 2,134 hits, 421 doubles, 332 home runs, and 1,287 runs batted in. Alou is one of the few baseball players who batted without the use of batting gloves. Instead, Moisés revealed that during the baseball season, he’d urinate on his hands to toughen them up. So that’s what he was doing in the outfield! TMI!

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Let’s skate to something more pleasant to round out yesterday’s grid: the lovely Katerina WITT, Olympic figure skating champion, who glided in late, at 60 across. So we start with a dog and end with a Kat.

“Witt’s taste in figure-skating costumes sometimes caused debate. At the 1983 European Championships, she skated her Mozart short program in knee breeches instead of a skirt. Her blue, skirtless feather-trimmed 1988 costume for a showgirl-themed short program was considered too theatrical and sexy, and led to a change in the ISU regulations dubbed the ‘Katarina rule’ which required female skaters to wear more modest clothing; skirts were required to cover the [important parts].  In 1994, skating a Robin Hood-themed program, Witt stated, ‘I wore the Robin Hood – like a man’s costume – because I didn’t want to be accused of seducing the judges this time.’”

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Today’s puzzle was all about ANTICI . . . PATION. The first part (ANTICI) was the first across answer, and the second part (PATION) was the last across answer. In between, there was ALMOST THERE, WAIT FOR IT, and NOT QUITE YET.

Commenter Wanderlust noted:

“The theme made me think of the Carly Simon song, of course (written while she was waiting for Cat Stevens to show up for a date, I believe). The ketchup ad with the Carly song is an interesting case of an advertiser emphasizing a flaw in its product. All of us oldsters remember turning the glass bottle upside down, pounding on the base and waiting excruciatingly long for that first ooze of red. The spoiled kids today with their plastic squeeze bottles! They had no idea of the living hell we went through before we could eat the burger! And get off my lawn! “

A later note added the following:

“As for ketchup bottles, I think the modern trend of putting the labels on them upside down to encourage you to stand them on their heads is undermining the moral fiber of our society.”

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“Residents of the Sagebrush State” was NEVADANS. When we took our Grand Canyon trip many years ago, I learned that I was mispronouncing “Nevada.” I said the middle syllable like the “a” in “dad.” But the locals pronounce it “ah.” After learning this, I started pronouncing it correctly. But Caity continued to pronounce it with the “a” from “dad.” I said, “Caity, we just learned that the people who live here pronounce it the other way,” and she said “But I don’t live here.”

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The clue for 48D was “Joe-[blank] weed,” and I had no idea what it was. It turned out to be Joe-PYE weed, and here’s a comment on it:

“Eupatorium purpureum, or Joe-pye weed as most people know it, is far from an unwanted weed to me. This attractive plant produces pale pink-purple flowers that last from midsummer through fall. It’s a great addition to nearly any garden and a must have for wildlife lovers, attracting a multitude of butterflies with its sweet nectar. Growing Joe-pye weed flowers is a wonderful way to bring a little bit of nature to your backyard. What are Joe-Pye Weed Flowers? They were named after a New England man who used the plant medicinally for helping people with typhus fever. In addition to its medicinal properties, both the flowers and seeds have been used in producing pink or red dye for textiles.”

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Mollusks made up a mini-theme. First there was NACRE (“Source of iridescence in many mollusks”), and then CONCHS (“Mollusks with iridescence not created by nacre”). Conch can be pronounced either conk or conch. So if you’ve run out of them you can say you’ve “conked out.”

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Fashion designer ANNA SUI visited today. Here’s what Wikipedia says about her:

“She was named one of the ‘Top 5 Fashion Icons of the Decade,’ and in 2009 earned the Geoffrey Beene Lifetime Achievement Award from the Council of Fashion Designers of America (CFDA), joining the ranks of Yves Saint Laurent, Giorgio Armani, Ralph Lauren, and Diane von Furstenberg.”

Not too shabby. Here’s one of her outfits on one of my tax students, followed by Anna herself.

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Last, a special shout-out to Don up in Newton MA who reported on turkey sightings in light of the Jill Lepore article from a few days ago. Here’s Don’s report:

“We saw turkeys in a neighbor’s yard on our daily walk this morning.  (Proof attached below.)  We see turkeys in our neighborhood very often.  Sometimes as many as 20 together.  They’ve wandered through our yard many times.  And they frequently stop traffic on Walnut Street for 10 minutes or so as a dozen or more cross the street.  We’ve also seen them on the Cape.”

Thanks, Don!

OK everybody — thanks for stopping by. Happy puzzling!

Eleven down in today’s New Yorker puzzle by Wyna Liu is the best clue/answer I’ve seen in weeks. The clue was “Unfortunate first base choice.” (9 letters) The answer: BAD KISSER. Get it? Think dating — “getting to first base.”

But in the NYTXW, 10 down today unleashed a torrent of comments, including a rare posting by yours truly on Rex’s blog. The clue was “Desert wanderer’s mount in a 1972 hit by America.” (15 letters) Maybe this lyric will help:

After two days in the desert sun
My skin began to turn red

Still no?

Ok, it was HORSE WITH NO NAME. (Of course!)

It unleashed a raging battle among the commentariat between the camp that thought it was one of the most ridiculous idiotic songs of all time, and the camp that found artisitic merit in it. It was a very big hit, but I have to say, I belong to the former. Here are some of the lyrics:

On the first part of the journey
I was lookin’ at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound

I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can remember your name
‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain

OK, let’s take a look at it: “There were plants and birds and rocks and things.” Things? Things? That’s the best you can come up with? Leonard Cohen would agonize for weeks over a single word. How long do you think “things” took?

And then, “sand and hills and rings.” What rings are in the desert? The rings are only there because they rhyme with things — admit it.

A fly with a buzz? A fly with a buzz? Seriously?

The heat was hot. — Hard to mount a case against that one.

And, finally, you are able to remember what your name is because “there ain’t no one for to give you no pain.”

Maybe it’s me, but the genius part is eluding me.

Here’s what I posted on Rex’s blog:

Did the horse know that it had no name? Did it wonder why it was never summoned? Or was it summoned with “Hey You,” or “Hey you, horse?”

Did it have a name in the past, so you could refer to it as “the horse with no name, formerly known as Rusty,” like we had to do with Prince?

Could it be identified via its parents – “Horse with no name, son of Fleet of Foot and Bushy Tail?”

Or was it referred to as “Horse With No Name,” so that, paradoxically, that became its name?

[I got two positive responses! — made my day.]

But the puzzle was all about birds, not horses. And birds with names. You know the expression “Birds of a feather flock together?” Well, BIRDS was up in the NW corner at 1D, and FLOCK was in the SE corner at 51D. And FEATHER ran across dead center, and each letter of FEATHER — all seven — was part of a different bird. I’ll get pictures of each one for you as I share them.

The F was for FALCON. (“Its peregrine variety is the world’s fastest avian.”)

The E was the E in WREN. (“Small brown passerine that holds its tail upright.”)

The A was from RHEA. (“Ratite featured on Uruguayan currency.”) (Peru too. See below.)

The T was in KESTREL. (“American raptor that’s the size of a mourning dove.”)

The H was for HAWK. (“Iconic metaphor for keen-eyed watchfulness.”)

The E was from NENE. (“Goose that might nest on volcanic ash.”)

Finally, the R was the R in CONDOR. (“Its Andean variety has the largest wingspan among all raptors.”) I had no idea it was so ugly.

And the constructor, David Rockow, wasn’t done. Pigeons and finches were mentioned in other clues. Even a long down answer: COOL AS A CUCUMBER had a feather-related clue: “unruffled.”

Here’s a RHEA on a coin from Peru:

Enough.

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How about this? For those of you who don’t believe in the power of puzzles, 55 across on Tuesday predicted the score of the USA victory over Iran before the match even started: ONE NIL! Eerie.

Monday’s puzzle reminded me of an old Carl Zack story (Hi Carl!) Carl was a hospital administrator for many years up in Somerville, MA, and he told us about one poor fellow who went in for stomach surgery but due to a dreadful mixup, had a leg amputated instead. OMG! I said, “Carl, what happened when he woke up and found out?” Carl said, “He was hopping mad.”

That was the theme of Monday’s puzzle: HOPPING MAD. Different terms for being mad “hopped” over a black square. So, e.g., we had SHEBANG [black square] RYE SEED, and the ANG hopped over the black square and joined the RY to form ANGRY. Kind of neat — didn’t tickle me as much as the birds. But it did conjure up the Carl story, so I can’t complain (much).

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Monday’s puzzle also sizzled with a GHOST CHILI — “Pepper measuring over 1 million on the Scoville scale.”

Here’s what a commenter had to share: “The Ghost Chili isn’t the hottest chili pepper on the Scoville Scale. That would be the Carolina Reaper, coming in at about twice the heat of the Ghost Chili. The absolute hottest of the super hot peppers, though, is literally off the Scoville chart. It’s the Guatemalan Insanity Pepper, a.k.a. the Merciless Pepper of Quetzalacatenango.

“This mind altering pepper was featured in an episode of The Simpsons. Homer ate several at a CHILI Cook-Off and began to hallucinate that he was wandering in the desert where he met a coyote who claimed to be his spirit guide.” (Note: This was a different desert from the one with the horse, above.)

Someone else added: “From New Mexico, ‘the Chile Capital of the World:’ Yes, that phrase is actually on our license plates. The answer should be “ghost CHILE.” CHILE with an ‘e’ at the end denotes the pepper; CHILI with an ‘i’ is for the dish made with the peppers. Your spelling lesson for today!”

Wikipedia says that Scoville measurements are now calculated by chromatography but, amazingly, were subjective before 2011:

“The Scoville scale is a measurement of the pungency (spiciness or ‘heat’) of chili peppers, as recorded in Scoville heat units (SHU), based on the concentration of capsaicinoids, among which capsaicin is the predominant component. The scale is named after its creator, American pharmacist Wilbur Scoville, whose 1912 method is known as the Scoville organoleptic test. The Scoville organoleptic test is a subjective assessment derived from the capsaicinoid sensitivity by people experienced with eating hot chilis.

“An alternative method, the high-performance liquid chromatography (HPLC) can be used to analytically quantify the capsaicinoid content as an indicator of pungency. As of 2011, the subjective organoleptic test has been largely superseded by analytical methods such as HPLC.”

Here are some ghost chilis. Look away if you’re sensitive.

And here’s a Guatemalan Insanity Pepper.

Thanks for visiting!

All hail the mighty Wolverines! We were out in Michigan visiting Sam et al. to watch the ‘Rines (on TV) dismantle and destroy the hateful Buckeyes, who revealed their true nature with a series of dirty plays, as well as repeated defensive breakdowns. Ohio State was the heavy favorite and playing at home. Michigan was without its star running back, Heisman candidate, Blake Corum. But it was a wipeout at 45-23. Sam was especially tickled at one point when the announcers said “The Buckeyes really need a stop here,” and on the very next play Edwards broke free for a 75-yard touchdown run. Bravo J.J. McCarthy, Donovan Edwards, Cornelius Johnson and all of our heroes! On to Indianapolis for the Big Ten crown!

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Who doesn’t love Marisa Tomei? She was born in Brooklyn and will be 58 next week. (Ouch!) Great to see you in Friday’s puzzle, MT!

When she won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress in “My Cousin Vinny,” Tomei prevailed over Miranda Richardson, Joan Plowright, Vanessa Redgrave, and Judy Davis. That was 30 years ago. Critic Rex Reed created a controversy when he suggested that Jack Palance announced the wrong name after opening the envelope. While this allegation was repeatedly disproved —even the Academy officially denied it —Tomei called the story “extremely hurtful.” WTF Reed!!??

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You must have something going for you to make it into the puzzle. And having 75% of the letters in your name be vowels doesn’t hurt. ADIA Victoria has described her music as “gothic blues.” Her style has been called blues, folk, Southern Gothic, indie rock, blues rock, gothic country, gothic folk, Jewish gothic, swamp blues, garage punk, punk blues, and soul music. (Alright, I made up Jewish gothic, but all the rest is true.)

Victoria is 36 and from South Carolina. Her first single (2016) was “Stuck In the South,” described on NPR’s All Things Considered as a “very swampy mysterious kind of slow-burning song.” Her live performances are described as “furious and feral.” In August 2021, Victoria released “Magnolia Blues” as the lead single from her album “A Southern Gothic.” Rolling Stone described it as “an eerie, acoustic-guitar-driven tune that expands to thick bass and a ghostly orchestra of strings and banjo.” You can check it out here: https://youtu.be/sVlQPpQ3xlY

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For the clue “London has a ‘Royal’ one,” the answer was OPERA HOUSE. The Royal Opera House lost 60% of its income as a result the COVID-19 pandemic. As a consequence, the 1971 “Portrait of Sir David Webster” by David Hockney, which had hung in the opera house for several decades, was put up for auction at Christie’s and sold for £12.8 million. At the same time, the string section of the Royal Orchestra starting taking in laundry. Every farthing helps. [Note: the farthing was withdrawn as a monetary unit in 1961. It was worth 1/4 of an old penny.]

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For the clue “Unfailingly loyal,” the answer was RIDE OR DIE. That expression is new to me. The concept of “ride or die” emerged in 1990s hip-hop as a modern, urban take on Bonnie and Clyde. The term appears in early 2000s rap music, notably in a 2000 song by The Lox (not kidding). “Ride or die” originally referred specifically to a Black woman, called a “ride or die chick,” who is willing to ride with, or support, a man living a criminal lifestyle no matter what, even if it means death. It jumped into the mainstream lexicon as an expression for any friend, family member, or romantic partner, regardless of gender, who will always stick by your side—who will ride or die with you to the end.

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Here’s a clue worthy of a Saturday puzzle: “Key piece of an overlock sewing machine.” Clues like that are sometimes referred to as WOEs, which I think stands for “what on earth?”

Hands up if you filled in LOOPER. Loopers are used to produce thread loops that extend from the needle thread to the fabric’s edges, enclosing the fabric’s edges within the seam. You might want to write down this important tip: If the upper looper thread breaks during sewing, this may be caused by the lower looper thread getting caught on the upper looper. If this happens, lower the upper looper, remove the lower looper thread from the upper looper, and re-thread the upper looper from at least the tension disc. (At least!)

On Saturday, “Paulo who wrote ‘The Alchemist’” was Paulo COELHO, 75, a Brazilian novelist. His parents committed him to a mental institution from which he escaped three times, until his release at age 20. While trying to overcome his procrastination about launching his writing career, Coelho decided, “If I see a white feather today, that is a sign that God is giving me that I have to write.” Seeing one in the window of a shop, he began writing that day. “The Alchemist,” a fantasy/quest tale, became an international bestseller, and, overall, Coelho’s books have sold 320 million copies. In 2016, he was contacted by Kobe Bryant (alav hashalom) to discuss a children’s book project with him. They started to write the book together, but Coelho abandoned the project when Bryant died.

Happy puzzling, everybody!

Broadcasting from the lovely Rodeway Inn on the outskirts of Historic (sorta) Brookville, PA, Thanksgiving night. Halfway between NJ and Michigan, on the way to visit Sam, Sarah, Morris, and (for the owls) Worthington. Outstanding holiday dinner comprised of Ma Po Tofu and Shrimp in Black Bean Sauce from Chatham’s Garden Rice, reheated in the in-room microwave. Ice cold ale. Perfect.

If it’s not too late, consider this cranberry sauce recipe from a Rex comment:

Ingredients:

• One can of Ocean Spray cranberry sauce
• A can opener
  Directions: use can opener to open can. Slide contents onto plate. Serve immediately.

Commenter Jberg added this C-sauce memory:

I once made a big patch of Susan Stamberg’s cranberry sauce recipe, featuring horseradish, which she used to read on the radio. I wrapped it up tightly, flew with it to Green Bay, and took it to my Mom’s house for Thanksgiving. No one would eat it.

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Some days the commentariat just doesn’t cut it, and some days, like today, it’s one delight after another. For PAEAN (“Song of triumph”), someone noted: PAEAN looks like a word that melted when it was left out of the fridge and then got put back in when it should have been placed in the trash and properly disposed of.

I always thought it was pronounced pay-un, but it’s pronounced pee-un.

SLAKE (“Quench”) brought this memory out for commenter jberg:

SLAKE reminded me of one of my favorite episodes from M*A*S*H. I couldn’t find a video but here is a drag-and-drop from mash.fandom.com:

Unfortunately, Simmons is not interested in movies, preferring to stay in, listen to music or read poetry. Seizing this opening, Radar turns up at Simmons’ tent that night with Klinger’s poetry book. Simmons invites him in and asks him to read some poems to her. He opens the book and clumsily reads some thoroughly unromantic lines from Rupert Brooke’s “Channel Passage” about retching and being sick on a ship. Suddenly Simmons pounces on Radar exclaiming, “You don’t give a girl a chance do you!” and “There ought to be a law against guys like you!” She pushes Radar onto the bed, with Radar all the while protesting that she is “bending the book!”

Much later, Radar staggers into the company office, shirt ripped open and lipstick all over his face. Trapper and Hawkeye, who are there for Klinger’s wedding to his fiancée over the radio, are astonished. “Radar, what happened to you?” “I think I’ve been slaked,” Radar says.

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1 across had a great clue that set a great tone for the puzzle. It used a Jose Saramago quote (I know: Who?) in the clue: “Order waiting to be deciphered,” and the answer was CHAOS. I should have heard of him — he’s a Portuguese writer who won the Nobel Prize in Lit in 1998. The Nobel committee praised his “parables sustained by imagination, compassion and irony,” and his “modern skepticism” about official truths.

For the third day in a row, I loved the theme. It was “DOT THE I’s,” and for all seven of the letters “I” that were in answers the squares above had to be filled in with a “dot.” Reading down, the dot was just a dot over the I, but reading across it had to be read as D, O, T. (Confused? Now you know how my students feel.) Here’s an example. The across clue was “They’re spotted on Lucille Ball and Minnie Mouse.” The answer was POLKA (.) DRESSES, with the dot to be read as DOT. But going down the answer was (.) IONS, and the dot was just a dot over the I.

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There were no tuchas sightings in the grid, but the staid NYT went with HORNY at 13A, clued as “Aroused, informally.” And right across from it was OPEN ARMS, so make of that what you will.

7 down was “Olivia Rodrigo or Billie Eilish” for POP IDOL, and LOLA Kirke of “Mozart in the Jungle” dropped in too. Hey! Here’s Olivia! All are welcome on this wonderful holiday! — as soon as I find the can opener, we can dig into that cranberry sauce.

Students are excellent beggars. I love this aspect of teaching. Before I share a note I received this week, I must tell you about a class my friend Maxine (a’h) took (at Hunter!) back in our college days. She and her friend Linda needed a science class to meet some requirement so Max found an arithmetic class and said these famous words to Linda: “How hard can it be? Arithmetic — two plus two.” So they signed up and it started off, like, with vectors or something and took off into the stratosphere from there. The only way they passed was by going to the professor’s office and making a big scene crying and begging. He finally said he’d give them D’s if they’d just leave his office. For many years, whenever Max came up with some insane idea, Linda would say “Two plus two – how hard can it be?”

Here’s a note I got a few days ago, verbatim. The student’s keyboard must have a defective period key, because it’s all one long stream of consciousness, or unconsciousness.

Good afternoon professor sorry for the late notice but I was wondering if I will be able to take the exam next Tuesday since we have off on Thursday because I’m not feeling well since Friday and I have a lot of family issues at home at the moment and I know I won’t preform well on the exam and for these unforeseen circumstances I don’t want it affecting my grade my parents are going through a big divorce and I am not feeling well and hope I can be given an extension so once I feel better I can study so I won’t fail the class just wondering if I can be given this opportunity it’s not me making excuses but just alot going on the moment and wish to see if I can take the exam next Tuesday so I can be given time to study to take care of what I need too I’m Abraham I always go to class so I hope you don’t think I’m lying and hope you understand

How could I say no to such a plea? I told him he could take a makeup, and I suggested his parents try a little divorce before going for a big one.

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OK, let’s ease into some puzzle stuff. 43A today was “Evergreen tree with poisonous seeds.” Yikes! The answer was YEW. (Yes, yew and yew and yew.) And I liked this comment someone posted: “I did not know YEW seeds were poisonous, but to be honest I didn’t know YEW trees had seeds, in fact, I don’t think I know what a YEW tree is.” Amen to that. I love the descent into ignorance.

Today’s theme was brilliant. It was about colored rings. It started off with “Red and yellow circles.” The answer was MASTERCARD LOGO. Then it progressed to “Red, yellow, and green circles,” which was TRAFFIC LIGHT.” Then “Red, yellow, green, and blue circles,” which was TWISTER MAT (remember those?). Twister took off in popularity after Eva Gabor played it with Johnny Carson on The Tonight Show. And, finally, “Red, yellow, green, blue, and black circles,” OLYMPIC RINGS.

There was a fantastic word for the tuchas watch too — VASSAR – it gives you an ASS in both directions(!), thus giving a whole new meaning to the expression “ass backwards.” (There was also ASSORT.)

The clue for VASSAR was “Poet Elizabeth Bishop’s alma mater.”

Here’s a poem she wrote called “I Believe.”

I Believe

that the steamship will support me on the water
& that the aeroplane will conduct me over the mountain,
that perhaps I will not die of cancer or in the poorhouse,
that eventually I shall see things in a “better light,”
that I shall continue to read and continue to write,
that I shall continue to laugh until I cry with a certain few friends,
that love will unexpectedly appear over and over again,
that people will continue to do kind deeds that will astound me.

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41D was “‘Patton’ or ‘Platoon,’” and the answer was WAR DRAMA. Rex said he would prefer “war movie,” and that any movie or show about war had to be a drama, but that was roundly disputed by the commentariat. There are a whole bunch of war comedies: MASH, Hogan’s Heroes, and others.

On Hogan’s Heroes, Robert Clary, the little French guy, died last week. He was Jewish and a holocaust survivor. The actor who played Klink, Werner Klemperer was born to a Jewish family (his dad was the conductor Otto Klemperer), and he had one condition for taking the role – that Klink could never emerge as the hero in an episode. (Not a problem.) And the actor who played Schultz, who famously “knew nothing,” was also Jewish, John Banner, and was (in real life) a sergeant in the U.S. army during WWII. The show ran for 168 episodes over six seasons. Here’s Robert Clary:

Did you know that an OPAL can come from petrified wood? According to 21A it can. Wood opal is a form of petrified wood which has developed an opalescent sheen.

And did you know that the Ural Mountains are a formation made by a collision of the continents Laurasia and Kazakhstania? (59A) Huh? I ain’t heard of those continents. They’re certainly not on the board in Risk.

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Yesterday’s puzzle had a neat theme too. The phrase CUTTING THE CARDS ran straight down near the center of the puzzle and at five points it “cut” through different types of “cards.” E.g., it ran through GIFT OF GAB, and TAKING CREDIT FOR, which caused it to cut a “gift” card and a “credit” card.

Van Morrison made a rare appearance — I don’t ever recall him popping up in the puzzle before. He was in the clue: “Van Morrison song aptly featured in ‘An American Werewolf in London.’” The answer was MOONDANCE, which has nothing to do with werewolves, but I guess the moon makes it apt.

The lovely Anya Taylor-Joy from The Queen’s Gambit visited too, and songstress Trisha Yearwood — Don’t play chess with her, Trish!

The clue for STRUT was “Swagger like Jagger.” Hi Mick! Our friend Richie is a brilliant chef, retired now out in SF. For a while he was catering private parties in the Hamptons, and Mick Jagger was a guest at one. During the event, Richie was refilling some dish on the main table and he noticed Jagger was eating one of his pastries. Jagger took a bite and caught Richie’s eye and gave him a very nice nod of approval. Satisfaction!

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Let’s end with a poem (or two). Ogden NASH was a guest in today’s grid. Commenter Barbara shared his poem “The Lama” with us, and added a verse of her own.

The Lama
by Ogden NASH

The one-l lama,
He’s a priest.
The two-l llama,
He’s a beast.
And I will bet
A silk pajama
There isn’t any
Three-l lllama.

Barbara decided to add a second verse:

The one-l lama, he sat
In meditation on his bamboo mat
The two-l llama, he spat
In agitation at a threatening cat
The three-l lllama, there’s chat
He was last seen in Gujurat.

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Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Graded papers today in lieu of blogging. Only have one item to share, appropriate for the holiday.

Jill Lepore in the New Yorker (11/28) had a nice piece on wild turkeys. Apparently, they are out in full force in New England. Bostoners — any sightings?

Here are her words:

“Wild turkeys have returned to New England. They’re strutting on city sidewalks, nesting under park benches, roosting in back yards — whole flocks flapping, waggling their drooping, bubblegum-pink snoods at passing traffic, as if they owned the place. You meet them at cafes and bus stops alike, the brindled hens clucking and cackling, calling their hatchlings, their jakes and their jennies, the big blue-headed toms gurgling and gobble-gobbling. They look like pilgrims, grave and gray-black, drab-daubed, their tail feathers edged in white, Puritan divines in ruffled cuffs.

“In Massachusetts, you can hunt wild turkeys (since 1991, the state’s official game bird), but only with a permit, only during turkey-hunting season, and only so long as you don’t use bait, dogs, or electronic turkey callers. You are, to be fair, permitted to whistle. ‘Sit and call the birds to you,’ the Massachusetts Division of Fisheries and Wildlife advises. Yet beware: ‘Do not wear red, white, blue, or black,’ or the gobblers, the full-grown males, might attack. Ben Franklin offered the same caution: if a turkey ran into a British redcoat, woe to the soldier. This, my fellow Americans, may be how we won the war.”

The Jets debacle yesterday was so complete it was art. They gained only two net yards the entire second half. I’m going to type that again: They gained only two net yards the entire second half. They had more punts (10) than completed passes (9). Even so, the score was tied 3-3 with under a minute to go. It appeared to be heading for overtime. The Jets just had to punt the ball away (punt #10) and watch the last few seconds tick off. But the punt was returned by New England’s Marcus Jones for a touchdown with five seconds left and the Jets lost 10-3. It was the only punt returned for a touchdown by any team all year so far, in roughly 150 games. The Boston Globe posed (and answered) this question: Why didn’t the Jets just punt the ball out of bounds instead of to Jones? And the answer was because they are the Jets.

After the game, hapless Jets quarterback Zach Wilson was asked if he felt the offense let the defense down, since the defense performed very well, holding New England to just three offensive points the entire game. Wilson said “No.” I remember taking Caity to the doctor when she was one or two years old and, as a developmental marker, the doc asked if Caity understood what “No” means. (We said she did. Well, she knew how to use it, just not how to accept it.) Apparently, Zach Wilson doesn’t know what “No” means.

My friend Lance, who passed away a long time ago (alav hashalom), went to a few Jets games with me and understood the torment of the Jets fan. Every Monday during the season when I got to my office at Hunter there would be a message on my office phone. It was Lance somberly intoning the Kaddish.

Yisgadal, ve-yiskadosh, . . . .

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Special thanks to Judy, the third Brandeis alum to chime in on the Buckley story. AND, she threw her support behind Anonymous in the great math battle from yesterday’s post. Judy is a retired math teacher, who clearly hasn’t lost a step. She taught at Akiba Hebrew Academy in Merion Station, PA (renamed the Barrack Hebrew Academy), where Pennsylvania Governor-elect Josh Shapiro went. Josh was not a student of Judy’s, but Josh’s brother was a student of Judy’s and Hank’s son Aaron, who also taught at Akiba. (Hi Hank!)

Here’s a joke about brothers:

So this guy dies and the Rabbi asks if anyone would like to say a few words on his behalf. Well, it turns out he was a real schmuck and no one has a good word to say about him. The Rabbi is upset and says: “What’s wrong with this community? A fellow Jew passes on to the next world and not one of you can come up with a kind word to send with him on his journey?” Finally, an old, wrinkled man in the back row raises his hand and stands up and slowly makes his way to the front. He looks out at the crowd and leans over the pulpit and says: “His brother was worse.”

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Speaking of school, my tax class did not do well on the midterm, to put it mildly. Not as bad as the Jets, but along those lines. Only one perfect paper out of 35, which is not a good sign. One student got a 21 (out of 100). Ouch! In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have written the exam in Yiddish, but these are all city kids – that shouldn’t be a problem. It was an open book/notes exam and I put all the questions in problem sets we worked on together in class. So, I ask you, what more can I do? As Yogi said: If people don’t want to come to the ballpark, you can’t stop ’em.

The first semester I taught I had a student who scored a 3 (out of 100) on an exam, and it was just luck that he got the 3. He tried to convince me to give him a passing grade. He pointed out that he answered all of the questions. I said, “But your answers made no sense in the context of the questions — you would have to improve considerably just to get the answers wrong.”

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The puzzle today was a paean to Soccer’s World Cup. One long answer spanned all 15 squares with OLE OLE OLE OLE OLE, and another with GOOOOOOOOOOOOAL. And 17A: “South African horn that produces only one note” was VUVUZELA, that droning sound you hear if you watch a match. The vuvuzela has been the subject of controversy when used by spectators at matches. Its high volume can lead to permanent hearing loss for unprotected ears after close-range exposure, with a sound level of 120 dB(A) (the threshold of pain) at one metre (3.3 ft) from the device opening. (Is it a coincidence that in the puzzle VUVUZELA is across from HUSH UP?) When this was brought to the attention of the Commissioner, he said “What?”

A Rex commenter noted that a concerto has been written for vuvuzela and orchestra (by a composer named John-Luke Mark Matthews, and that’s the gospel truth). Last, another commenter confessed: “I can never remember if it’s VUVUZELA or ZUZUVELA or VENEZUELA or ZUZU’S PETALS.” Huh?

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Comedian Kevin NEALON dropped by the puzzle today. I was surprised to learn he’s only 4 years younger than me. He has been a vegan since 1989, and is active in the animal rights movement, supporting PETA, the Amanda Foundation, Farm Sanctuary, the Washington Wildlife Alliance, The Ark Trust’s Genesis Awards, and Meat Out. He is distantly related to Daniel Webster.

On February 22, 2006, Nealon contributed an opinion article to NYT about having his phone tapped and his police records searched by a Hollywood private investigator who was later convicted of illegal wiretapping. It was also revealed in a court case that investigators working for the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus may have targeted Nealon for wiretapping in connection with his work for PETA.

No animals were harmed in the construction of today’s puzzle.

Department of Corrections. The “William F. Buckley/Nugatory” tidbit from several days ago elicited responses from several Brandeis-grad friends who remember the event well, in fact, better than me. We all agree that the second word was nugatory, but I have been corrected as to the first: it was not deciduous (in its secondary meaning of ephemeral). It was exiguous. That makes a lot more sense, because exiguous means, well, nugatory (very small in size or amount). I made the correction via an update to the post. Many thanks to Don and Alan! William F. — you can stop spinning in your grave.

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Let’s revisit CETE from yesterday, a collection of badgers. LMS took it upon herself to list the group names for all the critters that appeared in the puzzle. These included a raft of otters; a bind of sockeye (salmon); a colony, cauldron, camp, or cloud of bats; and a mischief of rats(!). [I have since learned that a group of woodpeckers is called a descent of woodpeckers. Here’s a lonely one.]

Another commenter added: “There is a wonderful book, amazingly still in print, by the late and sorely missed James Lipton. It is called “An Exaltation of Larks: The Venereal Game.” It tells about the school of knowledge called Venery, in which an educated young man in medieval times was required to know the group names of every known animal. Lipton lists over 500 discrete terms in use during those times. Cete of badgers, pride of lions, murder of crows, exaltation of larks, parliament of owls, and so on. There is also a section of delightfully witty terms Lipton creates for such modern groups as lawyers and psychiatrists.”

Parliament of owls!! I just ordered a copy on eBay for under $6. Can’t wait. If I get obsessed with it, will I have contracted a venereal disease? (As William F. no doubt could have told you, “venery” is defined in this usage as the art of hunting, and/or as the animals that are hunted.)

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There was a math clue last Weds that was “Sin is to the y-axis as [blank] is to the x-axis.” And the answer was COS. It triggered the following comments which I enjoyed while not understanding a word:

First, Anonymous posted: As someone who professionally uses and teaches geometry, I have no clue what the “sin:y-axis :: cos:x-axis” is supposed to mean. Does the clue refer to the conversion from polar to cartesian coordinates for a vector? That is such a narrow definition that it’s incomprehensible. I get that, in crosswords, “any” valid definition is allowed, but in math, you have to specify appropriate conditions. It is just as common for the sin to be the X-axis value and cos to be the Y-axis value that this clue just leaves me thinking in circles.

TTrimble replied: This refers to the definition of trigonometric functions as “circular functions”: we define cos(t) as the x-coordinate of the point on the unit circle (centered at the origin) that is obtained by starting from the point (1, 0) and then traversing the circle through an arc of length t, proceeding in the counterclockwise direction. We correspondingly define sin(t) as the y-coordinate of that point. Hence cos(t) is a measurement along the x-axis, and sin(t) is a measurement along the y-axis. This is a completely standard definition, and it is the preferred standard in mathematics courses everywhere, or at least in courses that aim toward a calculus-based study of the trigonometric functions. Using that standard, I think the clue is fine.

Anonymous came back with: Fair enough, this is a common standard, but the clue still doesn’t fit: cos(t) is the x coordinate value, not the x-axis. So sin:y :: ______ 😡 or sin:y-value :: cos:x-value would be appropriate, but equating the axis to the value projected onto that axis would not.

That’s where it ended. [Judy — you following this?]

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Yesterday’s puzzle contained the clue “Question asked without reservation?” and the answer was IS THIS SEAT TAKEN? It led to a mini-rant on “seat saving” in an LMS comment: “I don’t have the balls to be That Person who shows up early at an event to drape coats, sweaters, etc. over the backs of like 12 seats to save them for friends who’re getting there later. This just doesn’t seem fair. And when I see others do it, I get really nervous and upset that some kind of fight’s gonna ensue. I mean, c’mon. It’s your kid’s graduation and you get there at a reasonable time only to find all the good seats covered in apparel, saved for aunts and cousins who chose not to arrive at a reasonable time. Even though I have no dog in that fight, I hate the spectacle, dread the (justified) confrontations.”

My commute to/from NYC includes an NJ Transit train ride between Chatham NJ and Penn Station NY. I almost always get a seat, but the coup is to get a pair of seats all to yourself. Some people stack the deck in their favor by either sitting in the outside seat or placing a bag or something on one of the seats. I was boarding a train in NY once and it was going to be especially crowded. I think the earlier train was canceled. By the time I entered the car, there was at least one person in each of the double seats. I had to decide whom to bother (by plunking my tuchas down next to him or her). The first woman I looked at had “doubled up” on preserving her two-seater: that is, she both sat on the outside and loaded up the inside seat with bags. No way I was going to breach those defenses. But there was a nice-seeming middle-aged African-American gentleman sitting right behind her, and when I said “Excuse me,” he happily rose to allow me to claim the seat next to him. I settled in comfortably and we both watched the extraordinary entertainment that soon took place right in front of us.

First, one guy came by and asked the woman “Is that seat taken?” and she said, “Yes, I’m saving it for my husband.” A moment later it happened again, and she said, “My husband will be here soon, I’m saving it for him.” The car was filling up now so it became pretty rapid-fire: “Can I sit there?” “No, I’m saving it for my husband. No, — . . . husband. No, — . . . saving it.” It was like a hockey goalie flicking away shot after shot, maybe seven or eight times in pretty rapid succession. Finally this happened:

“Can I sit there?”
“No, I’m saving the seat for my husband.”
“You can’t do that – there’s no saving seats here.”
“He texted me. He’s on his way.”
“Nuh-uh, you can’t save seats. I left my husband in the other car — you can’t save seats.”
Then another woman who was standing nearby chimed in — “She’s right, you can’t save seats here.”
“But he’ll be here any second, I’m not giving up this seat.”
“If he’s not here now, that seat is open. I’m claiming that seat.”

With that, the seated woman finally caved in. “OK,” she said, “you can have the seat.” And she took the bags off of it and stood to allow the other woman to sit down. Hrummmph!

Early on, I wondered if in fact she might have made up the husband just to keep that seat for herself. Did she really want that double seat so badly? But I didn’t think she’d go that far. And I was right about that because the final act was about to take place. The husband showed up.

“You didn’t save me a seat!!”
“I tried to — I couldn’t.”
“You said you’d save me a seat!”
“I know — I tried to.
“I gave up a seat in the back to come here!”
“I know, but I couldn’t save it.”
“I rushed thru the crowd — you said you had a seat saved!”
“I know, but I couldn’t hold it.”

And he stormed off in a huff. I must say, when he showed up and said “You didn’t save me a seat!” both the Black guy next to me and I barely held off bursting into laughter. Priceless. That was the best ride home.

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I quit Netflix a few months ago when the price went up to $16.99 a month and I realized I wasn’t watching anything they offered. Since then, I have been inundated with emails begging me to return at a reduced rate. Just now I got one offering it for just $6.99. I’ll have to think about that. It’s nice to feel loved.

Today’s puzzle was called Fan Club and the theme is about phrases that can be read to mean “favoring.” And the clues are mostly made-up words ending in “philes.” So, e.g., for the phrase LIKE CLOCKWORK, the clue was “Chronomechanophiles. . . ” Those are people who “like” (enjoy) clockwork. Get it? It was a decent enough puzzle to work through, but doesn’t offer much blog fodder.

12A was “Squeeze, as a mop,” with the answer WRING, and one fellow wondered if someone who was excellent at that would be Lord of the Wrings. (Ouch.)

And 79D was well-clued: “Announcement of a split decision?” Answer: DEAR JOHN.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention two actresses who visited the grid today: REESE Witherspoon and GENA Rowlands. Welcome ladies! Please help yourselves to some ESTEE Lauder products at 19D before you go, and grab a six-pack of PBR, right over there at 33A.

Burp!

Have you heard of Jibbitz shoe charms? I hadn’t until I completed Erik Agard’s puzzle in the New Yorker this week. They are little charms you stick onto your crocs.

You can get zillions of them. God Bless America!

Friday’s NYTXW was by a very popular constructor, Robyn Weintraub, and it was chock full of neat stuff. I learned that a humorous term for raccoon is TRASH PANDA, because those rings around their eyes are sort of like a panda’s and they root through trash. There’s a minor league ballclub in Madison, Alabama called the Rocket City Trash Pandas.

The answer for “Superior dwellings, say,” was LAKE HOUSES (think Lake Superior), and “A glengarry is one, in the shape of a boat,” was a stellar clue for HAT. Here’s what they look like:

“What a raised index finger might represent,” was the clue for ONE. But LMS said: “’What a raised finger might represent’ – your inability to answer the question because you’ve just stuffed your mouth with a massive forkload of meatloaf and won’t be able to speak for, like, thirty seconds.”

The clue for RENE was: “La Rana _______ (Kermit’s name in the Latin American version of Sesame Street).” Seriously? Here’s what he looks like in Spanish:

The clue for ROSA was “‘The Horse Fair’ artist, Bonheur.” You’ve probably seen the enormous painting. It’s 8′ x 16.5′ in size and has been on display in the Metropolitan Museum of Art since 1887. The Met calls it one of its best known works of art.

Bonheur painted The Horse Fair from a series of sketches she made at the Paris horse market. She attended the market twice weekly for a year and a half. She sought a “permission de travestissement” from the Paris police to dress as a man, to avoid drawing attention to herself. (In 1800, the police issued an “anti-revolutionary” order forbidding women to dress in men’s clothing without permission. (The order remained in effect for 213 years in Paris!) The cafe named for Bonheur in Paris has her permit on display.)

Today’s puzzle has four answers that span the grid (15-letters long). The best (IMO) was “Isn’t able to control the outcome of one’s actions,” with the answer: CREATES A MONSTER. Here’s a scary one!

Additional small points:

Khaki (per LMS) — “What my daughter’s friend in Boston starts his car with.”

CETE: a group of badgers

Sigmatism: to speak with a LISP.

“Shade of brown paint,” was OTTER. Here’s what it looks like:

And here’s a riddle for you: What’s blue and smells like red paint?

ANS: Blue paint.

“Early role for Britney Spears” was MOUSEKETEER. Britney! — wha hoppin?

Last (on the puzzles), “Actress Tyler” was LIV. Liv was born in Mount Sinai Hospital in NY in 1977, so she’s 45. Her mom is Bebe Buell, model, singer, and former Playboy Playmate (Miss November, 1974) and her biological dad is Steven Tyler, lead singer of Aerosmith. But she was Liv Rundgren at birth. Bebe had a brief fling with Tyler, but was living with musician Todd Rundgren, who is Liv’s legal and adoptive dad, and acted as a father figure to her.

Liv’s partner is David Gardner, a British sports and entertainment manager. They have two children: a son, Sailor Gene (7), and a daughter, Lula Rose (6).

From wikipedia:

“Tyler is an active supporter of UNICEF. She was appointed as a Goodwill Ambassador for the U.S. in 2003. In November 2004, she hosted the lighting of the UNICEF Snowflake in NYC. She was also a spokesperson for the 2004 Givenchy Mother’s Day promotion in support of UNICEF’s Maternal and Neonatal Tetanus campaign.

“Since 2004, she has donated to the Women’s Cancer Research Fund to support innovative research, education, and outreach directed at the development of more effective approaches to the early diagnosis, treatment, and prevention of all women’s cancers. In October 2007, Tyler, with her mother Bebe Buell and her grandmother Dorothea Johnson, helped launch the Emergen-C Pink energy drink, in an event in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness month.”

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Kudos to our beloved Max Fried, Atlanta’s Jewish ace, who came in second in the NL Cy Young Award voting this year. Last year he won the clinching game of the World Series for the Braves, cooling Houston’s hot bats for six brilliant innings. Max’s nickname is Maximus and his middle name is Dorian. He won the Gold Glove (fielding award) for NL pitchers three years running, and he won the NL Silver Slugger award (best hitter at his position) in 2021, the last year it will be awarded since pitchers no longer bat in the NL.

Max is single. He has dated Rose Lavelle, brilliant soccer player on the US team that won the 2019 Women’s World Cup. Lavelle scored three goals in the tournament and was named 6th best player in the world in 2019.

Max credits ex-Bosox outfielder Reggie Smith (Hi Don!) with teaching him how to throw a curve ball and for many of his baseball skills. Fried attended Reggie’s baseball academy starting at age seven. Smith made it a priority to have Fried throw his curve in a way that puts minimal stress on his arm. They are still close. Here’s what Smith said recently:

“I’m very proud of Max. We stayed in contact during the season. If I see something or he has something he wants to bounce off me we talk. He also checks on me to see how I’m doing. That’s how good a heart and passionate he is. He checks on me to make sure I’m doing OK.”

It’s not just Reggie, Max, we’re all very proud of you.