OK, she’s done now. Dead at 53. She was born in Memphis, of Irish and Native-American descent. The genes fell right into place. I remember her from Twin Peaks. Didn’t see her in much else. Married three times — never happily. No kids.
I can’t come up with a photo that conveys how pretty she was. These are in the ballpark.
Rest in peace Shannen.
I’m not going to discuss the you-know-what that is the main news story of the day, other than to share a comment that was posted on Rex’s blog that football fans circa 1991 should understand. The poster said the shooter must have been a Buffalo Bills fan because the shot missed wide right.
That’s Scott Norwood missing the kick that lost Super Bowl XXV for the Bills to the Giants. It lives in infamy, for sure, but life goes on. Norwood remained the Bills’ kicker for the following season. They returned to the Super Bowl and Norwood was perfect in the post-season, although the Bills lost the SB again, to Washington.
Ever have a BOCA BURGER? They’re not bad. It was in the puzzle today, clued with “Barbecue option for a vegetarian.” It inspired me to compose this limerick.
The Boca’s a very odd bird To try to emburger it: absurd It’s too hard to cook It says in this book And it tastes a bit rubbery, I’ve heard.
It predates the more popular plant-based burgers out there today, but it never caught on. Maybe this nod in today’s NYTXW is just the boost it needs. Just kidding, of course — it doesn’t stand a chance.
This poem is by Jackie Sabbagh. It’s called “Having a Great Time Being Transgender in America Lately.” Kudos to The Poetry Foundation for making it their poem of the day today.
It is day infinity of everyone wanting me dead. People are having fun bringing lemon squares and automatic artillery to the anti-trans community meetings. Divorced legislators harangue about pedophile cults and surgeried infants and what ever happened to forever ago. I am more beautiful than you and I would like to be loved. I am getting concerned about the monomaniacs who make their entire lives about deadnaming and transvestigations: obviously it’s working but aren’t you exhausted, don’t you remember when someone loved you without knowing what you were? I am eating shortbread on a patio table overlooking the enormous green ocean. Somewhere an octopus is being eaten by an octopus and not panicking. Black dress to the floor, red acrylic nails, silver teardrop earrings, waterproof mascara. I am excited to do this for the rest of my life and be terrified. I hear a noise behind me and I don’t turn around.
Gonna keep it short today — a little tired from schlepping into the city in the heat. Thanks for popping by. See you tomorrow!
Last night’s band was Gephilte (as in phish), led by Josh Dolgin aka Socalled. They came down from Ottawa and rocked the house, or, I guess, the book center. They are experimental and come at klezmer from the funk side, and other sides. Not all of their experiments worked, but it was a fun night overall — very energetic, for sure. Some Fiddler on the Roof tunes were played as if by a Motown band, stuff like that. Dolgin’s mom came down from Canada for the show. He said she’s turning 80 tomorrow, kinahora.
We have one last show, today at noon, but then we have to start the drive back and will miss the finale tonight (boo!). Overall, we loved the festival and can definitely see making it an annual event. This was the 12th Yidstock. Long may it live and prosper!
Speaking of “coming back,” the puzzle today was palindromes — expressions that read the same in both directions. The most famous, of course, was uttered by the very first man, to the first “first lady.” Madam, I’m Adam.
The ones in the puzzle were much longer and a bit tortured. For the clue “Voice-activated order for cabbage or soda bread?” the answer was IRISH SIDE DISH, SIRI. See how it works? Read it in both directions. There were six like that. The prolific Jeff Chen was the constructor.
I was discombobulated (you know, the opposite of combobulated) at 24D when the clue “Foe of the Bolsheviks” turned out to be CZAR. I knew it was the Czar, but the answer flouted a Crossworld convention. It was always TSAR in Russian history, and CZAR for, like, a modern “energy czar,” or “drug czar.” Jeff Chen casually tossed that overboard – so where does that leave us? Out to tsea, apparently. Is nothing tsacred?
Other ‘dromes from the puzzle were “Humble postgame summary from an Indiana basketball player?” PACER’S SELFLESS RECAP.
Headline regarding a children’s author controversy? SEUSS IGNITING ISSUES
What happened when the bust went sideways? NARC, IN A PANIC, RAN.
114D: “Skinny pieces of clothing:” TIES
Phil! What are you doing!? Why is she looking at you like that?? We talked about this!! Just take the shot and back away!!
Years ago, I was at an event at our temple and a very nice guy, Dennis, was wearing a beautiful tie. It had a dark blue background and little children were floating around in it, very colorfully. I said Dennis, that’s a very nice tie, and he looked down and said, “Oh, yes, this is my ‘Save the Children’ tie.” He explained that he made a $300 donation to the Save the Children Foundation and they thanked him with that beautiful tie. So I said, “Well, that’s very generous of you, and it is a gorgeous tie.”
Less than one week later, we were down in Washington DC on a little family trip. On The Mall, where dozens of sellers are set up to hawk t-shirts, hats, and little Washington Monuments, one fellow had a table loaded with ties. Glancing at it, I noticed one similar to Dennis’s. There was the dark blue background with children floating around. The only difference was the children were larger.
I asked the man: How much are these ties? He said $4. I said: This tie with the children costs $4? He said yes. So I bought it. And I call it my “Save the Money” tie.
We are back home from Yidstock, sadly. It was such a good time. The last band, today at noon, turned out to be our favorite: Daniel Kahn (from Detroit!) with a violinist and drummer. Beautiful, funny, meaningful songs. My favorite may have been one he introduced by saying: “We have a song about the future on our first album. It’s bright — the children are happy; there are flowers and birds. This is not that song.” Then he sang (in Yiddish) a great and very dark Leonard Cohen song: I have seen the future: it’s murder.
Here’s Daniel Kahn with some of his friends singing a Yiddish version of a song you know. Then Leonard Cohen sings in English his song about the future that Kahn sang for us in Yiddish. Kahn also performed a beautiful Springsteen song in Yiddish, about going back to his childhood home. I’m going to keep an eye on Kahn’s website and try to catch him again.
The last two NYTXW puzzles had some great stuff in them. Today’s had a “stack” of three long answers one on top of the other: The actor MAHERSHALA ALI, a bowler’s SEVEN-TEN SPLIT, and the great clue/answer: “Fat chance” for LIKE HELL I WILL. Great constructing by Eli Cotham.
He even tossed our Dirty Old Man Department a nod with “Company with a ‘Bra-llelujah!’ line” for SPANX. My tax student Imelda is modeling the “Bra-Vo” edition for us, below. Thanks, I-mel!
At 20D, “Desire for a picnic” was NO RAIN, and it led Son Volt to post the clip from Woodstock in which the storm is coming that turned the concert into one large mud-wrestling contest and where the crowd starts chanting NO RAIN NO RAIN, to the delight of an amused (and unaccommodating) Mother Nature.
At 20A, that N also helped spell NOLITA, which is the “N.Y.C. neighborhood in which the first pizzeria in the U.S. was opened (1905).” It’s short for North of Little Italy.
For all of you rock aficionados, did you know “Twisted Sister’s genre” was HAIR METAL? That was new to me. It may be better known as glam metal. It’s a a subgenre of heavy metal that features pop-influenced hooks and guitar riffs, upbeat rock anthems, and slow power ballads. It borrows heavily from the fashion and image of 1970s glam rock. Maybe think of heavy metal fusing with David Bowie, alav hashalom.
There are no sisters in Twisted Sister. You probably know their big hit “We Ain’t Gonna Take It.” They are the pride and joy of Ho-ho-kus, NJ, sort of, maybe.
Yesterday’s puzzle started off brazenly with a ten-letter three-word stack, with terrific answers: SHORTBREAD, PAPER ROUTE, and CRAZY STRAW. Remember those?
But the best part of Malaika Handa’s puzzle yesterday came at 55D. The clue was “‘Let me tell you . . . ” and the answer was GIRL. Best clue ever! Truly the mark of a sure-handed constructor.
“What connects money with everything?” That was the clue at 11A, and I had no idea what the hell was going on. The federal reserve system? But it’s a four-letter answer. Turns out it’s a great clue for the otherwise boring answer ISN’T. It’s a reference to the saying “money isn’t everything.”
Girl, you like Randy Rainbow? I hope I haven’t shared this here before. It’s one of my favorites.
We set out this fine morning for a walk in the Mt. Tom State Reservation, but upon arriving we noticed there was a fee. At first glance it seemed like $5 for the vehicle. But, wait — that was for MA vehicles. For us Jersey folk it was going to cost $20 — just for a stroll in the woods! WTF!! Drove to Northampton instead and found Child’s Park, which was perfect. Look how pretty:
A natural bench!
After the walk and lunch, we drove to Amherst and watched the film Janet Planet in the tiny “studio theater” that is part of the Amherst Cinema — just 25 seats –almost every one taken. How intimate is the theater? The woman next to me got up to use the rest room at one point and we could all hear when she flushed.
We liked the film! It’s about a single mom and her daughter, and, you know, life. Not easy to describe. Think of your typical action film — and then think of the exact opposite. It’s a film by Annie Baker who grew up right here in Amherst!! So we had to see it, amirite? Here’s Annie. Phil caught her at a serious moment.
And here are the stars of the film: Julianne Nicholson and Zoe Ziegler:
No Klezmer music until 8 tonight to respect the Sabbath. So I’m going to sign off now and report on the music tomorrow.
When your first impulse upon waking up in the morning is to panic, it’s okay as long as it’s not about a family member. But food is a close second. So when, amazingly, I noted that I slept all the way to 8:57, the question of whether we missed breakfast was blaring. I remembered the very nice and professional gentleman at the front desk said it started on weekdays at 6:30, but I couldn’t recall if it ended at 9 or 9:30. Arrrrgh!
“Linda! We have to hurry! We may have missed breakfast!” Had that been the case, I would have lived, but the recovery period would have been long and painful.
The elevator took forever to get to the the fifth floor, but the notice inside informed me that breakfast ran until 9:30. Whew.
It was a good breakfast, by hotel standards. (It would have fallen short in a diner by a bit.) Scrambled eggs and potatoes were decent, but the french toast “sticks” were not appealing and the sausage patties looked like something from the sponge or soap pad department. English muffins were fine but the toaster kept spitting them out too soon. I should have tinkered with the setting. That’s on me. But there was ample cream cheese, my topping of choice, and, get this: little containers of mashed avocados! Now that merits a plus in my book. That’s a classy move, especially after learning recently (as reported in OC) that there is a bit of an avocado crisis in the world. (Maybe it’s over?) Little fresh fruit cups received a nod from this reviewer as well.
We are sticklers for strong coffee, bordering on the bitter. We make it that way at home and have come to expect hotel and diner coffee to be undrinkable. (Except in Galway, Ireland. The coffee in our Galway hotel was good. When we mentioned that, as a compliment, to our waiter, however, he made a face. Then he explained he was from Brazil, and it didn’t really compare to the coffee he was used to. Fair point.) Now, where was I?
Oh, yeah. The coffee at the hotel in Holyoke came out of a brewing machine. You selected regular or decaf, cup size, and then pressed a button. Too bad there wasn’t a dark or strong option. But it earned a passing grade — it was drinkable. I’d give it a C — pretty good for hotel coffee. So that was a plus too.
The breakfast staff was excellent. Very classy. Sexy uniforms too.
The only drawback is the hotel is not in a great neighborhood. It’s the only place I’ve stayed where they ask for a photo ID, credit card, and dental records.
In an email we just received from Newton Don, he told me his autocorrect changed klezmer to kleenex.
Here’s Taylor singing “Fortnight.” It was in the puzzle today and was my downfall: “Rapper featured on Taylor Swift’s 2024 hit ‘Fortnight.’” The answer was POST MALONE and to my great shame I had not heard of him. It’s apparently the rap equivalent of not knowing what a logarithm is because Rex shared this (from wikipedia): Malone has gained distinction and acclaim for his blending of various genres including hip hop, pop, R&B, and rap. His stage name was derived from inputting his birth name into a rap name generator. Malone is among the best-selling music artists, with over 80 million records sold. His accolades include ten Billboard Music Awards, three American Music Awards, one MTV Video Music Award, and nine Grammy Award nominations. He holds several Billboard chart records: He is the first solo lead artist to top both the Rap Airplay and Adult Contemporary charts, while “Circles” set the record for longest climb to number one (41 weeks) on the Adult Contemporary chart by a solo artist. As of 2024, Malone holds the record for the artist with the most diamond-certified songs, with nine to his name.
D’oh!
Pablo Neruda’s poem “One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII” (translated by Mark Eisner) was The Poetry Foundation’s Poem of the Day today. Neruda was born on this date 120 years ago. Fasten the seatbelt of your heart.
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself, and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not nor are you, so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
David Sedaris joke:
It’s night, and a cop stops a car a couple of priests are riding in.
“I’m looking for two child molesters,” he tells them.
The priests think for a moment. “We’ll do it!” they say.
Now I don’t know what to believe. At 12:54, Anony Mouse posted: Quibbled with compost as “soil.” As any competent gardener knows, compost isn’t soil. It’s what you may add, to enrich soil.
Then, at 5:32, SharonAK came back with: As an avid gardener for over 50 years, composting does result in soil.
I checked with Miriam Webster who says compost is “a mixture that consists largely of decayed organic matter and is used for fertilizing and conditioning land.” So I think I’m with Ms. Mouse, above. It may eventually become soil, but it’s not soil until it is soil. Do you find as you get older you sound more and more like Yogi Berra?
What a great day at the Klezfest! First Judy Bressler, the Aretha Franklin of Klezmer, accompanied by the great Hankus Netsky on piano. Sensational. She sang a Leonard Cohen song: “Dance Me to the End of Love.” (She’s singing it, below, with the Klezmer Conservatory Band.)
Then a young trio (since their accordionist was ill) called Levyosn. One gorgeous song after another: a beautiful young woman as the lead vocal/guitar, and a violinist and cellist.
Our hotel is closer to Northampton than Amherst, which is quite a mecca for restaurants. We had a sensational vegetarian/seafood dinner at Paul & Elizabeth’s. Super-fresh Cajun seafood dish over rice, plus a mountainous plate of tofu/veggie pan-fried noodles. We sat next to an enormous window overlooking the street. Great place.
Ever wonder what it would be like to be a dog? Me neither. This poem is by Richard Shelton. It was in today’s Writer’s Almanac and is called “If I Were a Dog.”
I would trot down this road sniffing on one side and then the other peeing a little here and there wherever I felt the urge having a good time what the hell saving some because it’s a long road
but since I’m not a dog I walk straight down the road trying to get home before dark
if I were a dog and I had a master who beat me I would run away and go hungry and sniff around until I found a master who loved me I could tell by his smell and I would lick his face so he knew
or maybe it would be a woman I would protect her we could go everywhere together even down this dark road and I wouldn’t run from side to side sniffing I would always be protecting her and I would stop to pee only once in awhile
sometimes in the afternoon we could go to the park and she would throw a stick I would bring it back to her
each time I put the stick at her feet I would say this is my heart and she would say I will make it fly but you must bring it back to me I would always bring it back to her and to no other if I were a dog
It was on this date in 1834 that Whistler’s mother gave birth to Whistler in Lowell MA: James Abbott McNeill Whistler. His famous painting, Whistler’s Mother, below, was not called that. Its title was Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1, but what are you going to do? — it’s a painting of his mother so people call it what it is. Her name was Anna Matilda McNeill Whistler. Get this — she was only a stand-in, or, I guess, a sit-in. The model Whistler arranged to sit for him failed to show up, so it was “Mom!! Help!!”
When he was finished painting her, they switched places and she painted this portrait of him.
(No she didn’t — that’s a self-portrait Whistler painted himself of himself himself.)
In 1877, the critic John Ruskin wrote this about Whistler’s painting Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket: “I have seen, and heard, much of Cockney impudence before now; but never expected to hear a coxcomb ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face.”
Whistler sued for libel. Here is Ruskin’s attorney Holker cross-examining the artist:
Holker: “What is the subject of Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket?”
Whistler: “It is a night piece and represents the fireworks at Cremorne Gardens.”
Holker: “Not a view of Cremorne?”
Whistler: “If it were A View of Cremorne it would certainly bring about nothing but disappointment on the part of the beholders. It is an artistic arrangement. That is why I call it a nocturne.“
Holker: “Did it take you much time to paint the Nocturne in Black and Gold? How soon did you knock it off?”
Whistler: “Oh, I ‘knock one off’ possibly in a couple of days – one day to do the work and another to finish it …” [the painting measures 24 3/4 x 18 3/8 inches]
Holker: “The labour of two days is that for which you ask two hundred guineas?”
Whistler: “No, I ask it for the knowledge I have gained in the work of a lifetime.”
Whistler won the case but was awarded only a farthing in damages. It may not have seemed much at the time, but adjusting for inflation and the exchange rate, it’s the equivalent of 800 billion dollars today, give or take a quarter.
We’re broadcasting tonight from our luxurious suite in The D. Hotel in Holyoke MA, in reasonable proximity to Yidstock, the annual klezmer festival at the Yiddish Book Center in Amherst. Opening night featured the Klezmatics, the only klezmer band to win a Grammy, and they did not disappoint. The pre-show announcement was in Yiddish, followed by English. We were told to take note of the emergency exits but reassured that nothing bad will happen. We were also told not to video the performance. “We’ve put people in jail for far less,” they warned. Aaron Lansky whose brainchild the Center is, said there were many people to thank for organizing the festival — “It takes a shtetl.”
I can’t do justice to how wonderful the show was. I’m sharing a song of the Klezmatics off of Youtube to give you a small sense of what klezmer sounds like, but they played a wide variety of songs, including three Woody Guthrie songs that were very appropriate to our time. The performance as a whole reminded me how important music is. How it is not only part of our identity, it shapes us.
Enjoy the tune. We’ll report more on the rest of the festival in the coming days.
It’s the midway point in this year’s Tour de France, which is one of the three races comprising the Grand Tour, along with the Giro d’Italia in May and the Vuelta a España in Aug/Sept. They each last 3 weeks. The French Tour was celebrated in today’s puzzle. The nicest theme answer was at 16D: CHAMPS ELYSEES, where the race sometimes ends — not this year though — it ends in Nice this year. There were also circled letters sloping upwards spelling out ALPS and PYRENEES – where the toughest parts of the tour may occur. Then the clue at 40A was “Hard patterns to break … or a punny description of the climbs up the circled letters:” VICIOUS CYCLES.
Phil’s covering the race for Owl Chatter this year, but so far this is all he’s sent back to us.
There was also a good clue/answer at 55A: “How to become a whole new hue.” Answer: DYE.
A sports card show in Allen TX was the location of a spectacular heist last Sunday, according to Allen police officer Sammy Rippamonti, a great name in any context. The theft was a coordinated effort by four men to distract the card dealer and make off with 170 extremely valuable cards in a briefcase that had been kept under a table. The men spent an hour stacking chairs and performing other tasks that gave the impression they worked there.
Six Mickey Mantle rookie cards were taken. The best was graded 6 (out of ten) and selling for $175,000. This one is graded 5 — you can see it’s off-center and the corners could be sharper.
Two 1948 Jackie Robinson cards were taken too. The story did not say what condition they were in, but this beauty (graded 7, near mint) is selling on eBay for $150,000.
Also mentioned as taken was a mint Tom Seaver rookie card.
As you can see, Seaver is paired with another pitcher, Bill Denehy, on the card. Denehy’s lifetime record in the majors was 1-10, with an ERA of 4.56. Any claim he can make to fame would revolve around his being traded by the Mets for manager Gil Hodges, in November of 1967. Hodges of course managed the Mets to the world championship in 1969 and is in the Hall of Fame. Denehy is still living and is 78. Sadly, he started losing his eyesight in 2005 and became totally blind in 2018.
When it comes to the U.S. Olympic Women’s gymnastics team, if Simone Biles ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. But Biles loves the new leotards designed for the Paris Olympics by GK Elite, the company that started designing them two years ago. Each athlete will have different ‘tards to wear for different events, but the design for the final event is the most spectacular and includes close to 10,000 crystals meticulously sewn into the fabric. Take a look:
That many crystals also adorn this model, which will be worn for several floor events.
Biles opened the box containing the leotards on the Today show. Her response: “Wait — these are beautiful!”
But we can’t wait, SB — knock ’em dead, ladies.
Owl Chatter heads up to Amherst MA tomorrow to attend this year’s Klezmer Festival — Yidstock — at the Yiddish Book Center. The Klezmatics open tomorrow night. We’ll let you know how it goes.
The clue at 17A today was “Sting operation at a senior center?” and the answer was BOOMER BUST. Ouch! It’s a play on “boom or bust” but it seems to take for granted that boomers are in senior centers these days. Alright — I’ll be 75 in January (if I make it that far), but you don’t have to rub my nose in it in the goddamn NYTXW!
The puzzle was co-constructed by Gary Larson — not the cartoonist — who is very good. At 35A the clue was “What the first call to a receptionist might come in on,” and the answer was LINE ONE. Remember those old phone systems where you had those clear thingies at the bottom of your phone and they would blink if a call was coming in on that line until you pressed it down? Here’s one that even has a rotary dial.
OMG, it’s ringing!! Can you get that, someone from the 1950s please?
See that photo? There’s quite a story behind it. That’s Paal Enger. That’s not a typo for Paal — he was from Norway, where they play fast and loose with vowels. He died a few weeks ago, at only 57. He had heroes he emulated when he was growing up. One was soccer great Diego Maradona, and the other was fictional crime boss Vito Corleone. He was a rising soccer star and was also so taken by The Godfather that he visited NYC to see the locations where it was shot. And he was drawn to a life of crime, culminating in his theft of Munch’s great painting The Scream. His soccer teammates sorta knew he was dabbling in crime: he often showed up to practice in fancy cars he had stolen and lived quite a lavish lifestyle.
His first attempt at The Scream failed. He snuck into The Munch Museum through a window, but a glitch in his plans caused him to grab Munch’s Love and Pain (aka Vampire) instead (see below).
Enger and his partner kept the painting hidden in the ceiling of a pool hall he owned that was frequented by off-duty police officers. “They don’t know it’s hanging just one meter from them,” he said. “That was the best feeling. We let them play for free just to have them there.” But his partner blew their cover and Enger spent four years in prison: all the while still itching to cop The Scream.
Once he was out, he waited until the country was distracted by the Winter Olympics in Lillehammer, and on Feb. 12, 1994 climbed a ladder and broke a window to get into the National Gallery in Oslo. Within 50 seconds, he slipped back out with the painting. Our Phil, of course, was on hand and got this shot of the exterior. Phil is afraid of ladders so he didn’t follow Enger inside.
Enger and his partner left behind the ladder, their wire cutters and a note:“A thousand thanks for your poor security.” The crime was so well executed that even though Enger was an obvious suspect, no evidence could be produced against him. And he taunted the police, calling in false leads. They devoted an entire squad to him called Enger Management (no they didn’t).
He was eventually caught via his efforts to sell the painting and sentenced to six years in prison. He began painting in prison. In the photo of Enger with The Scream, above, the painting is a version of it that he painted. In 2011, his abstract paintings were exhibited at a gallery in Norway. His inclinations towards crime remained strong, however, and he was charged with stealing 17 paintings from an Oslo gallery in 2015.
Here’s how his obit in the NYT by Alex Williams ends:
This is not to say that he was wholly averse to acquiring art by legitimate means. In 2001, he bought an unsigned Munch lithograph at auction for about $3,000. Leaving the auction house that day, he ran into the former head of security for the National Gallery. “Congratulations,” he told Mr. Enger. “It’s great that you’ve actually bought a Munch — much better than stealing one.”
Here’s Munch’s Love and Pain, followed by, well, you tell me.
Here’s something I learned recently. When you are recycling a can, it may be important not to crush it, as some folks like to do. If your recycling system has you separate cans yourself, go ahead and crush it to your heart’s content. But if your system is like mine — you mix everything together — paper, glass, cans, etc. — and it’s sorted later, it’s very important NOT to crush the cans. If you crush them it can screw up the sorting and result in the whole mess having to be used as landfill, defeating the whole porpoise of your effort. This has to be true, because I heard it on the radio in the middle of night when I couldn’t fall asleep.
Look at this poor guy!
Flipping around the stations just now, I fell upon a classic Yankee game from 2011 — July 9th, in fact — exactly 13 years ago today. It was the game in which Derek Jeter got his 3,000th hit. I remembered that it was a home run, but I had forgotten that he had five hits that day — going 5 for 5. Only one other player got 5 hits in the game in which he got his 3,000th hit. That was Craig Biggio, who went 5 for 6 when he did it. Jeter’s is the only 5 for 5.
Even more amazing, perhaps, is that Jeter is the only player ever to have 3,000 hits as a Yankee. (A-Rod had over 3,000 hits, but not as a Yankee.) Lou Gehrig had 2,721 and Babe Ruth 2,518 for second and third places. There are so many little surprises in this list. Bernie Williams, at 2,336 is ahead of Joe DiMaggio who had 2,214. How could that be? And where have you gone?
Last points on Jeter: In 2012, when he was 38 years old, he led the major leagues in at bats (683), plate appearances (740) and hits (216), while batting .316. His 3,645 lifetime hits is sixth most in MLB history. More than Willie Mays, Ted Williams, Mel Ott. Over a thousand more than Jim Rice.
Did you know that Gertrude Stein’s famous line is not, “A rose is a rose is a rose?” It came up today because the clue at 14A was “Thrice-repeated words in one of Gertrude Stein’s truisms” and the answer was A ROSE. But the actual line from her poem Sacred Emily is “Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose.” Who knew? My old (now dead) tax professor Bernie Wolfman used to say that Stein wrote Section 61 of the Internal Revenue Code defining “gross income.” “Income is income is income,” he said.
My dad loved roses. I remember him watering the rose bushes he grew in our Brooklyn garden on President Street. My sister Bonnie’s middle name was Rose. What a beautiful name: Bonnie Rose. And Lianna’s middle name is Rose too.
Here are some red ones. OMG, look at this face! Could you plotz?
Can’t top that. Not in a million years. See you tomorrow.
We’re delighted to report that Owl Chatter has reached another gallstone: The post on Welly’s 60th birthday several days ago was our 550th. Hooooooray! And we’re going to keep at it until we get it right, by crackie.
Also happy to report we’ve tracked down the Gil Shaham mystery, thanks to long-time Owl Chatter friend Newton Don. Here’s what Marc had to say:
“I didn’t say anything specific about Gil Shaham at all. He’s a great violinist whom I’ve always liked, and whom I’m typically happy to hear. In recent years he’s developed some distracting visual mannerisms in terms of physical posture and how he moves around on stage, but the solution is to avoid watching him too much.
“The only thing I could possibly have said about Shaham that might have been construed as in any way negative was that it was too bad that Hillary Hahn cancelled and Shaham was the soloist instead.”
So there you have it: Gil Shaham does not stink!
But don’t take our word for it. Decide for yourself.
That expression you have surely heard: “It’s the greatest thing since sliced bread” has an historical foundation. First, yesterday was the anniversary of the first sale of sliced bread, back in 1928. Before, bread was sold in solid loaves, or people baked it themselves. The slicer was invented by Otto Frederick Rohwedder, a jeweler from Davenport, Iowa, but he had a tough time convincing people of its worth. The fear was that the separate slices would go stale. Otto first tried to solve that problem by holding the slices together with hatpins: not a good idea. (not kidding) Next, he tried wrapping the sliced loaf in waxed paper. That was better but he still had a tough time selling the concept until he met a baker in Chillicothe, Missouri willing to give the five-foot-long, three-foot-high machine a try. Bread sales went through the roof. And, still, close to 100 years later, we talk of a new idea as “the greatest thing since sliced bread.”
This is a photo of the actual first loaf of sliced bread, from 1928. (No it isn’t.)
Run to the post office and buy stamps. Why do I say that? Because on July 14, the price of a forever stamp is going up from 68 cents to 73 cents. You may have to decide among horses, turtles, manatees, RBG, and Nancy Reagan. BTW, they are called “forever” stamps because whatever you mail will take forever to get there.
Remember BJORK? “One-named singer from Iceland.” Hardly a name you’d expect to see often in Crossworld, with those letters. But there she was today at 49D, hobnobbing with KEN Jennings the new Jeopardy host (off of the K in Bjork). She is unusually beautiful, with looks that are very changeable. Phil should get no argument from her on either of these.
Whenever there’s a band playing and they ask for requests, I ask for “Jumping Jack Flash.” This poem is called “Request.” It’s by Lawrence Raab and it appeared in today’s Writer’s Almanac. We have that in common, apparently.
For a long time I was sure it should be “Jumping Jack Flash,” then the adagio from Schubert’s C major Quintet, but right now I want Oscar Peterson’s
“You Look Good to Me.” That’s my request. Play it at the end of the service, after my friends have spoken. I don’t believe I’ll be listening in,
but sitting here I’m imagining you could be feeling what I’d like to feel— defiance from the Stones, grief and resignation with Schubert, but now
Peterson and Ray Brown are making the moment sound like some kind of release. Sad enough at first, but doesn’t it slide into
tapping your feet, then clapping your hands, maybe standing up in that shadowy hall in Paris in the late sixties when this was recorded,
getting up and dancing as I would not have done, and being dead, cannot, but might wish for you, who would then
understand what a poem—or perhaps only the making of a poem, just that moment when it starts, when so much is still possible—
has allowed me to feel. Happy to be there. Carried away.
This list of phobias was posted in the Dull Men’s Club (UK) today.
Have you got a favorite? Pogonophobia and Xanthphobia are new to me and pretty good. Here are some comments from club members:
Ray Wells added: AIBOHPHOBIA. Fear of Palindromes.
David Mortimor noted: For those who think Eurotophobia can’t be a real thing. It is often triggered by watching birthing videos in reverse!
Keyo Langford wrote: I think you’ll find that ecclesiaphobia is actually a fear of cakes.
Rosie Barker made a good point, IMO: Aren’t cremophobia and eremiophobia the same thing? Murray Atkinson replied: No, one starts with c and the other with e.. (D’oh!)
Another member posted: Chronomentrophobia (fear of clocks), batophobia (fear of being close to tall buildings). I have a very specific one – fear of being close to clock towers – so I guess that would be chronomentrobatophobia.
Leanne Brown gets the last word: Wrong group: way too interesting.
Broadcasting this fine afternoon from the air-conditioned confines of the Berkshire Valley Inn in Hancock MA, belly full of decent-but-not-as-good-as-Hot-Tomatoes pizza from CRUST in Williamstown. The good local ale was a plus. (Burp!)
If you like bawdy limericks (and who doesn’t?) Rex commenter JOHN X is your man. He must have been away for awhile because he was warmly welcomed back by the gang. I hope he stays because his post, which I am reposting in its entirety below, is just about perfect, IMHO. Here it is, limerick and all:
I haven’t done a crossword puzzle in ages, ever since I killed those two guys in that bar. When you’re in jail they take away your iPad, unless you (or a friend) can smuggle one in up your ass. But I got off with a $400 fine ($200/victim). Between the killin’, the trial, and my release, it was the longest six hours of my life.
On the chest of a barmaid from Yale Were tattooed the prices of ale. And on her behind, for the sake of the blind, Was the same information in Braille.
This puzzle was pretty easy, is all I’m saying.
[Here’s that Ivy League barmaid, but covered up. Smoky eyes.]
Ignorant boor that I am, I needed the crosses to get FRANZEN as the answer to “Author of 2001’s ‘The Corrections’” in today’s puzzle. It was quite a big hit, if you consider a best-seller that wins the National Book Award (in 2001) big. But did you hear about the flap that arose between Franzen and Oprah? The Big O selected it for her book club and he dissed her! The book achieved a balance between entertainment and serious literature and he felt the Oprah imprimatur could tip the balance too much into entertainment, or have it be viewed as a “woman’s” book. He damned some of her selections as “schmaltzy.” She refused to invite him on her show — the only author selected by the club that was snubbed in that fashion. He later apologized and they made up in 2010 when she selected a different book of his and it went smoothly.
Special thanks to Owl Chatter friend Sandee for reaching out with a “like” for the post on Welly’s birthday. Sandee is missing from our gathering this year, since she is vacationing far away — so it was especially nice of her to chime in! We miss you! (Jeff too.)
It was opening night at Tanglewood last night and we all went to catch their all-Beethoven program: the violin concerto and the Eroica. Gil Shaham replaced Hilary Hahn for the concerto and a question arose. Shaham, you may know, is considered one of the world’s great violinists, and he certainly seems great to me (ignorant boor that I am, see above), but word reached us second- or third-hand that our friend Marc thinks poorly of him. Marc spent his career writing the programs for the Boston Symphony Orch, so he knows a thing or two about the subject. We’re trying to track the story down and will get back to you on it, unless we forget.
He looks just a bit deranged in this shot. Phil — did you give him something? We’ve spoken about that!
Crazy stuff in the Astros-Twins game in Minny last night. Houston held on to win 13-12, but almost blew an eight run lead in the ninth inning. And how about this catch by someone named Joey Loperfido? Never in doubt!
It’s back to Jersey tomorrow. We’ll see you there. Thanks for stopping by.
Welly had the best time at his 60th birthday party at the Berkshire Valley Inn in Hancock MA. Everybody sang. Mary gave him a little gift, and we read a special birthday message from Worthy in Michigan. Wilma was thrilled.
The Wellington Files 