It’s a very quiet celebration this time around at Owl Chatter headquarters. Taylor is off touring outside the country. Our sports heroes are battling their battles, or getting ready to start the new NFL season. And we’re all still in shock over dear Yevgeny’s terrible demise. I checked the freezer downstairs to see what he left us from his visit a few months ago. It’s a big vat of his famous borscht (a beet soup, if you don’t know). He may have known he didn’t have much time, because he left this note and an instructional video.
“Dear Owl Chatter friends. How honored it was for men and me for invitation to big celebrate. My heart was warm from watching enjoyment of foods and vodkas. Tyler Swift and Owl Wilma have much beauty and grace. All best wishes from your friend Yevgeny P. and entire Wagner Group. Here is secret borscht video – even Putin doesn’t have. F*ck him!”
Whew. Hard to follow that. But Yev would not have wanted us to grieve, so let’s be joyful, let’s do our best. In addition to Wilma and Welly today, we’re just having our incredible staff photographer Phil and one special surprise guest who insisted on “crashing the party” — his favorite subject: Ana! First, come on in Philly!! — always great to see you! Here, let me help you find a seat. How about a cold Zaydie? We’re having borscht too!
Now let’s see if you can top your earlier work with Ana, — hard to imagine there’s room for improvement!
Wow — should have never doubted you, Buddy — Ana, spectacular as always. So good of you to stop by. Please grab a cold Zaydie or a seltzer – the borscht should be ready soon. Dammit! — I don’t think we have crackers. Wilma — do we have any crackers for the borscht? Check the cabinet over the toaster.
Thanks for sticking with us, everybody.
Here’s Leonard Cohen to walk us off tonight — You got us singing!
We’re trying not to be too sad about the end of summer here at Owl Chatter. It’s good, in that respect, that my semester starts early, so I can busy myself a little with classwork. We try to look forward to what the Fall will bring. Welly and Wilma will be visiting their son Worthington in Michigan for Thanksgiving, which is otherwise their least favorite holiday, centered as it is on the devouring of birds.
So let’s make today’s poem from The Writer’s Almanac our final sad note on the passing of summer. It’s by Faith Shearin and is called “The Last Swim of Summer.”
Our pool is still blue but a few leaves have fallen, floating on the surface
of summer. The other swimmers went home last week, tossed
their faded bathing suits aside, so my daughter and I are alone
in the water which has grown colder like a man’s hand at the end of
a romance. The lifeguard is under her umbrella but her bags are packed
for college. We are swimming against change, remembering the endless
shores of June: the light like lemonade, fireflies inside our cupped hands,
watermelon night. We are swimming towards the darkness of what
is next, walking away from the sounds of laughter and splashing, towels
wrapped around the dampness of our loss.
A quick follow-up note on yesterday’s chatter about Pattie Boyd, the British model in the Sixties who married George Harrison and then Eric Clapton. I forgot to mention that she was the inspiration for Harrison’s Beatles song “Something.” He took the opening line (Something in the way she moves) from a James Taylor song. Pattie was also the inspiration for Eric Clapton’s massive hit “Layla.” The name comes from a Persian love story.
Anybody recognize that number up there? It’s You-Know-Who’s booking number in Georgia. I’ll spare you the mug shot.
We can’t let it go unremarked upon how well the Gnats are doing. They beat the Marlins again last night with a two-out-ninth-inning rally. I was asleep already, but the winning run came in on a passed ball. Weird. The Miami catcher just didn’t catch the pitch.
Their record now is 61-69, which is two games ahead of the Mets, and identical to that of the Padres, who have a lineup that reads like an all-star team and a bloated payroll. They’re only a game and a half behind the Yankees. Of course all three of those teams I named are having very disappointing seasons. And the Gnats aren’t. The expectations were low and they have been very much exceeded with some very good play.
Just a little more than a month to go in the regular season. We may be rooting for Atlanta when the playoffs start. Owl Chatter fave Max Fried pitches for them. Since coming off an injury August 4th, he’s pitched well in five starts, going 3-0. We will also be cheering for Baltimore.
Here’s a hot-off-the-press scoop! One of the most beloved of Rex’s commentariat is “Nancy.” And she just let us know an item of hers was accepted by the NYT and will appear tomorrow in their “Favorite Songs and Prose, Reimagined” feature. Readers are invited to “rework” famous songs or writings. Nancy gave us a sneak preview of hers, below. (My favorite line is the rhyming of Alito with finito.)
The Ballad of SCOTUS (or Thomas’s Promises) (to the tune of “June Is Busting Out All Over”)
Cash is pouring in all over, The court is a great big money tree! Lots of billionaires pursue me And the gifts they offer to me Are expensive and extensive as can be!
Yachts to take me to Bermuda! Planes to whisk me off to France! Though it may appear unseemly, I will rule for you supremely, Every time I have the glimmer of a chance.
Because it’s June! June! June! Rulings come in June! June! June!
Decades of progress will be smashed, Once all your checks are duly cashed!
Money’s pouring in all over! Stare decisis is kaput. With the help of Sam Alito Roe v. Wade is now finito — And I’ll soon be crushing Griswold underfoot!
Money’s pouring in all over! I’ll be at your beck and call! Ev’ry fabulous vacation Makes me lower your taxation To the point at which it won’t exist at all!
Because it’s June! June! June! Rulings come in June! June! June!
Tossing aside with bad intent Every last shred of precedent.
Perks are pouring in all over! Travel’s more splendid than before. With your money in my pocket I’ll devote my shadow docket To the N.R.A., Big Pharma and much more!
Cash is pouring in all over! Ev’ry decision can be bent: Though my rulings may be lawless, Still my reasoning will be flawless When I tell them what our founders really meant!
Because it’s June! June! June! Rulings come in June! June! June! … They’ll be coming Soon! Soon! Soon!!!
Edgar Rice Burroughs was having a tough time of it. He failed the entrance exam for the U.S. Military Academy at West Point and tried his hand (and did badly) at being a cowboy, shopkeeper, gold miner, and railroad cop. But he was reading a lot of pulp magazines and he realized “if people were paid for writing rot such as I read in some of those magazines, I can write stories just as rotten.” He had never written anything, but so what? He hit paydirt when he invented Tarzan, a white baby orphaned in the African jungle and raised by the she-ape Kala. He settled on the name Tarzan after considering “Zanter” and “Tublat Zan.” I think Tublat Zan might have been good – TZ for short.
Whatever you want to call him, he was a phenomenal success, generating over 24 novels and more than 40 films. It had a profound impact on the culture and science. Jane Goodall starting reading the Tarzan books when she was 11 and credits them with inspiring her determination to work in Africa. Ray Bradbury memorized passages and recited them to friends. He said, “Burroughs is probably the most influential writer in the history of the world.”
Get this — in the books, Tarzan is well-spoken and thoughtful. Burroughs did not like the rough, semiliterate film character with his “Me Tarzan, you Jane.” That most famous of lines is never uttered in the books. He made a fortune, of course, and bought 550-acres of ranchland east of LA and called it “Tarzana Ranch.” Today, it is Tarzana, a suburban neighborhood in the San Fernando Valley region of LA.
We are chattering about him because it was on this date in 1912 that the character of Tarzan “came to life” in All-Story Magazine.
OK folks, I’m catching the next vine out of here. See you tomorrow for Post #300 — hope you can make it! Our photographer Phil will be on hand with some special shots of a favorite guest.
Today’s ‘zzle had the unmitigated gall to reference the Ohio State marching band! Hrummmmph, with a capital Hrum! It was at 23D and the clue was “It dots the “i” in the Ohio State marching band’s spelling of “Ohio.” The answer was SOUSAPHONE. I would have clued it with: What does a Sousa use when it has to make a call? An anonymous post on Rex’s blog compounded the sin by posting the video of the OSU band doing what the clue says it does. I couldn’t just let that pass, but I felt I had to remain civil. So I posted the following, with mitigated gall:
As a rabid Wolverines fan since pouring five years worth of (out-of-state) tuition into UMich (worth every penny), I would have been happy not to see the OSU band, but thanks for stoking the fires as the season is about to begin. BTW, the Michigan fight song, Hail to the Victors, was written by a UMich student, Louis Elbel. According to Wikipedia, Michigan alum and composer Charles D. Kountz said that John Philip Sousa told him that “The Victors” was “one of the nation’s finest military marches and the best original college song” he had ever heard. Go Blue!
Carola posted the following in response (I’m “Liveprof”):
Liveprof – Thank you for the note about Sousa and Michigan. As a native Wisconsinite, I’m a loyal Badger fan, but I think the Michigan fight song is terrific. I never go to football games, but the UW marching band practices in a field near where I live and so I hear every rehearsal – my ears always perk up when Michigan is coming to town. Apart from “On, Wisconsin” it’s the only college tune I know.
And here’s my reply:
Carola. You’re welcome! I’ve always been a sports fan but had no interest in college sports until my son went to UM. We tried to attend one game a year with him in The Big House back then, and I remember the first time their enormous band marched across the field before the game, playing their song. There’s nothing like it. I remember not liking Jim Harbaugh when he coached in the NFL. He seemed like a lunatic. He seems even more like a lunatic now, coaching Michigan, but he’s our lunatic and I love him. I bought my son a Jim Harbaugh bobblehead doll.
I was out visiting Madison WI back in the 80’s — loved it. I remember attending a minor league baseball game: The Madison Muskies. They left town in 1993.
I just got a reminder call from a doc’s office and the person gave her name as Noah but it was a female voice, so I asked her how she spelled it and she said NOA, and that it’s also from the bible — a female Noa. That was new to me. It seems like it should be a popular name in Crossworld but I’ve never seen it.
Apparently, it’s a popular girl’s name in Israel. There is a story in the Bible about the daughters of Zelophehad. He did not have a son so the daughters (Noah, Tirzah, Mahlah, Hoglah and Milcah) went to Moses to ask God for the legal right to inherit their father’s property. God said OK and they became the first women in the ancient world to have legal rights to property ownership, apart from their fathers or husbands. The deal was they had to marry within their tribe so the property wouldn’t pass outside the tribe and they were okay with that. I guess they felt there were enough jerks in the tribe willing to marry them. The important thing was the mutual fund portfolio.
In modern Israel the name when used for women dropped the “h” to soften it. So that’s the story on NOA. Of course, we’ve all seen Zelophehad countless times in crossword puzzles — he’s a veritable Mel Ott.
This story in tomorrow’s Met Diary is by Julia Kell.
Returning from a trip when I was a poor college student living on the Upper West Side, I decided to take mass transit home from the airport.
Boarding a bus for the last leg of the trip home, which in those days was a two-hour ordeal, I struggled my way on, dragging my suitcase and trombone.
A man sitting near the door lost his patience and began to yell at me for holding up the bus. Embarrassment washed over me as I continued to struggle.
Suddenly, I heard a woman a few seats away yell out in a commanding voice. “You leave her alone!” she bellowed.
I soon found a seat.
********
I’m not sure why I love that story so much, but I am sure that I do. Do we each have one of those women in our family — a decency cop? We’re lucky if we do. Brava!
The puzzle was an absolute bear today — halfway through it I thought I’d have to cave in and abandon it. But a few guesses worked and I was able to stagger through it. Of course, when I checked Rex’s blog, he labeled it “Easy.” D’oh!
Here’s a nice example of how hard, but clever, it was: At 56A the clue was “They’re often worn at long public events,” and the answer was FAKE SMILES. Been there, for sure. And how about 37D: “See star?” The answer was PONTIFF, as in The Pope, as in the Holy See. Ouch, right?
At 18A the clue was “Takeoff in pole position, perhaps?” and the answer was STRIPTEASE. Good one! Hold on a sec, I need to enter that into the Dirty Old Man Dept., along with its partner at 26D: “On a streak?” — NAKED.
I didn’t know 30A but I think I should have: The clue was “Model Boyd of London’s ‘Swinging Sixties’ era,” and the answer was PATTIE. Any of you remember Pattie Boyd?
She was a drop-dead gorgeous model who changed the concept of what is beauty along with Jean Shrimpton back in the 60’s. She was cast as a schoolgirl when she was 20 in the first Beatles movie A Hard Day’s Night. Long story short — she married George Harrison in 1966. They couldn’t have kids and George didn’t want to adopt. Sadly, they split up in 1974, due in part to George’s many infidelities — his sleeping with Ringo’s wife Maureen was the last straw. Oh, no! Say it ain’t so! The divorce was very amicable, with George and Pattie showing much respect for each other.
Get this! George and Eric Clapton had become best friends and Clapton fell head over heels in love with Pattie. After George and Pattie split, she and Eric married. George and Clapton remained close friends — Harrison called Clapton his “husband-in-law.”
They tried to have kids but failed too, and Clapton had serious drinking and drug problems and was unfaithful, albeit not with Ringo’s wife, and he and Pattie split up too.
Happily, Pattie met Rod Weston in 1991, a real estate developer (not a guitarist) and they’ve been together since — getting married in 2015. Weston said of the marriage: “It’s almost our silver anniversary so we thought we had better get on with it.” Pattie is 79 now. Here she is when she had the world on a string.
Two of my three classes were good yesterday — the third was at 4pm and it was Friday, and they looked like the living dead. I’ve got bad vibes about that group. Good energy in the first two, though, especially the giant law class with 90 students – yikes! The room was packed but eventually attendance will drop by at least a third. Count on it
Frank Bruni had two selections in his “For the love of sentences” feature that I liked. The first was about the small private submarine that killed everyone on board because it was not safe at certain depths. It was in Vanity Fair and was by Susan Casey on the mindset of Stockton Rush, the CEO of the company who brushed off the warnings: “In a culture that has adopted the ridiculous mantra ‘move fast and break things,’ that type of arrogance can get a person far. But in the deep ocean, the price of admission is humility — and it’s nonnegotiable. The abyss doesn’t care if you went to Princeton, or that your ancestors signed the Declaration of Independence. If you want to go down into her world, she sets the rules.”
The second one was by Matt Bai in WAPO about you-know-whom: “Asking Donald Trump to pledge loyalty to anything really, other than himself, is like asking my dog to write a novel. She might look at you like she understands the concept, but trust me, she doesn’t.”
Have you heard of Rene Lalique? I haven’t. He was in the clue at 12A today: “Style of René Lalique’s glasswork.” The answer is DECO. Here are two examples:
He started off in jewelry design but became better known for his work in glass. He was responsible for the walls of lighted glass and elegant colored glass columns which filled the dining room and “grand salon” of the SS Normandie, and the interior fittings, cross, screens, reredos and font of St. Matthew’s Church at Millbrook in Jersey (Lalique’s “Glass Church”). [That’s Jersey in the Channel Islands, not NJ, USA.] Here’s the glass altarpiece:
The best places to see his glasswork in the U.S. are the Met in NYC, and the Corning Museum of Glass in Corning, NY. His granddaughter, Marie Claude-Lalique was also a glass maker. She died in 2003 in Ft. Myers, FL.
Bryce Harper of the Phillies started his MLB career young, so even though he’s already accomplished much on the diamond, including winning the NL MVP award in 2021, he’s still only 30. Last Monday, against the Giants, he hit an inside-the-park home run — one of the most exciting plays in baseball. Chatting about it later, Harper placed his hands together, looked upward and said, “Thank goodness for Mr. Montgomery.” One might wonder what the hell he meant, since there was no Montgomery on either team roster.
Harper is a student of baseball history and has an incredible baseball memory. He was referring to David Montgomery who was the president of the Phils 20 years ago when the outfield walls were being designed (he died in 2019). It was his idea to incorporate an unusual nook or angle here and there so that on occasion something crazy could happen. It worked. There have been 14 inside-the-park HRs in the stadium — still a rarity, but more likely than without Montgomery’s designs. You can see, below, Harper’s shot took a funny angle off the wall.
At 42A the clue was “Pale in comparison?” and the answer was ASHIER.
Joe Dipinto posted:
ASHIER = a worker at a French outdoor café whose job is to empty the ashtrays.
It brought up a nice memory for me, so I posted:
Several hundred years ago when I was in college, my statistics prof explained “spurious correlation” by telling us that some study showed that there was a statistical relationship between car thefts and cigar smoking. Of course, that’s ridiculous, so it’s a “spurious” correlation. I was in his office later that day for some reason and I theorized that perhaps the thieves were after the ash trays in the cars. A terrible line, but a nice memory.
I caught the end of the Nats-Yanks game today and it was about as good as baseball gets. The Nats were up 5-4. The Yanks had the tying run on second with 2 down in the eighth, but DC brought their closer, Finnegan, in early, a Detroit boy, and he blew away the last Yank in the 8th. So now it was up to Washington to try to get some insurance in the 9th — because Judge was due up in the Yankee half and he’s murder. A pesky Nat, Jake Alu, stroked a single to deep right-center and was called safe stretching it into a double ahead of Judge’s throw — but the call was reversed on appeal!!Yer out! Then little things started happening — a pair of infield singles, a hit batsman (ouch!), stuff like that – and that insurance run was cobbled together after all. So it was 6-4 Nats, going to the bottom of the 9th.
The heart of the Yankee order was up. A sharp single and a strike out brought Judge up as the tying run. Finnegan got him to fly out, whew, but hit after hit after hit made it a one-run game and the bases were bulging with bombers. Bader was up and drove the ball to deep left center. Off the bat it seemed gone to me. Nat centerfielder Alex Call went racing after it and overran it, but stretched out his glove to haul it in, barely. He staggered towards the wall but held on — game over! — and he let out a roar of joy and relief.
Get the hell out of town fast, boys — you stole that one.
See you tomorrow! Thanks for popping by! It’s opening day for my fall semester tomorrow, kinahora. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Don’t mess with this woman, at least on the basketball court. She’s A’ja Wilson of the LA Aces of the WNBA, who are currently 29-4. Wilson tied an all-time WNBA high last night with 53 points.
Wilson is 6′ 4″ and played college ball at South Carolina, winning the national title in 2017 while being named the tournament’s MVP. In 2018, she was named best player in women’s college basketball and was selected first overall in the WNBA draft. In 2020, she was the WNBA MVP.
A’ja was born in Columbia, SC, in August of ’96, making her 27. Her mom had a court stenographer business, and her dad played pro basketball in Europe for ten years. She was named after the Steely Dan song Aja, which was her dad’s favorite song. She considers herself fortunate, because his second favorite was Hava Nagilah, the popular Jewish wedding song. [No it wasn’t.] Her middle name is Riyadh, where her aunt was deployed in Operation Desert Storm.
How revered was she at South Carolina? This statue of her was dedicated in January, 2021. She has noted: “My grandmother couldn’t even walk on this campus; she had to walk around it.”
Right before sitting down to write this nonsense today, I sent the following to Frank Bruni for his “For the love sentences” feature:
In the 8/28 New Yorker, Anthony Lane says this about “Meg 2: The Trench.”
Much of it takes place on the ocean floor, in a confounding murk; the one bright patch is the opening scene, which is set sixty-five million years ago, around the time of Henry Kissinger’s tenth birthday.
(BTW, Hank turned 100 in May.]
Sliman Bensmaia’s death this month at only age 49 is a terrible loss for mankind. He was doing extraordinary work in neuroscience allowing amputees and quadriplegics to feel sensations and pressure. He was a prof at U. of Chicago. Much of his work was with rhesus monkeys, assessing how their brains respond to stimuli.
Bensmaia was also a talented pianist who played regular gigs around Chicago. He referred to the mass of inputs to the brain as a “neural symphony.”
In 2016, Bensmaia and his group outfitted a man named Nathan Copeland with a prosthetic arm that allowed him to feel through its fingertips. Obama came to observe. He called it unbelievable and gave Copeland a fist bump, which broke it [no it didn’t].
Bensmaia was literally a “Nice guy,” i.e., he was born in Nice, France to parents who are philosophers. He recalled his dad falling down a flight of stairs once, looking up, and saying “That’s life.” He is survived by his wife Kerry Ledoux, his brother Djamel, and his children Cecily and Mateo, all of whom had feelings for him.
On the diamond, the Gnats put it to the Yanks last gnight, 2-1. It was the gninth straight loss for NY, their longest streak since 1982. If they lose tonight, you’d have to go back to 1913 to find a longer Yankee losing streak. Ouch! Here’s the Gnats fine young shortstop, CJ Abrams, whose 8th inning home run made the difference. Oddly, his full name is Paul Christopher Abrams. The “CJ” comes from his being called Chris Junior since his dad has the same name. Here he is, watching the Yankees sink slowly in the West.
Oh, no! Owl Chatter just received word that our caterer, Yevgeny Pregozhin, was killed in a plane crash today. Yev, we hardly knew ye!
Sources tell us he was bringing a load of his incredible pierogies and very popular pigs-in-blankets (all-beef) to a Bar Mitzvah in Detroit. It was so Yev to insist on delivering them in person. We will never forget the spread he so generously provided for Owl Chatter’s 250th-post celebration just a few months ago. (I’m tearing up a little remembering that we still have some casseroles of his in the freezer.)
His dad and stepdad were Jewish and he leaves a wife and three children. Here he is entertaining at his 4-year-old nephew’s birthday party last May. Phil caught him in a light moment. He was so good with kids. Very playful.
Rest in peace, Yev.
Owl Chatter finds it hard to believe we are coming up on our 300th post shortly. Ridiculous. We’ll be keeping the celebration small this time. OC photographer Phil will be here, and we’ve invited one of his favorite subjects as a surprise. Hope she can make it. Still waiting to hear back from some musical invitees too — nothing too loud.
OK folks — thanks for stopping by. See you tomorrow.
One of the last people you might think would be quoted in a serious discussion of climate change is British comedian Rowan Atkinson, “Mr. Bean.” But he studied electrical engineering at Oxford and was cited in today’s chat in the NYT between Gail Collins and Bret Stephens on the environmental case for sticking with gas vs electric cars. At issue is the roughly 900 pounds of nickel, aluminum, cobalt, and other minerals needed per car battery. But let’s put all that aside for the moment and watch this scene. It starts out mildly amusing and then, well, have a look.
I’m going to cite Rex’s blog a little more than usual today because of what occurred on it. One of my favorite commenters (mathgent) started by posting:
“On Sunday, @weezie wrote that he/she doesn’t like very fast times being posted on the blog. I’d like to hear what others of us like or dislike on the blog. My favorite comments are those where something in the puzzle prompts an expert in that field to give some inside background. Plus, occasionally something will make me laugh.”
Here are some of the responses, ending up with me being called out and issuing an apology! Yikes!
Whatsername wrote: “What I love are the different personalities that shine through. At times I have read posts and knew who wrote it without looking at the name. Also the incredible level of knowledge and the diversity – the wide variety of voices from different walks of life all over the continent and occasionally beyond. I do the crossword to keep my mind from rusting but reading this blog is where I feel it really gets sharpened.”
Joaquin added:
Since you asked …
I particularly like all the new “stuff” that I learn from this blog. For instance, a couple of days ago someone mentioned Raksha Bandhan, the celebration of the love between siblings. This prompted me to send a note to my sibs, giving us all a reminder of our good fortune. I also love reading (and posting) bits of humor, personal stories, and feeling like I have some friends I’ve never met.
Pabloinnh added: Likes: Learning things, sharing a love of words and language, reading folks who make me laugh, feeling clever when I remember something I thought I’d forgotten, commiserating with others over some horrible clue or usage.
Then kitshef came up with:
“Probably my favorite posts are ones where someone links a puzzle entry to something they have read or watched or heard, which often prompts me to read or watch or listen to something new. I also enjoy it when people riff off of the themers to come up with their own examples. Least favorite are spoilers – for the puzzle or for anything else. I was fortunate to get up at 5am to watch the FWWC final the other day, but if I had not, that spoiler would have ruined my day.”
Yikes! — that was me! On Sunday I posted about Espana and Cupbearer being in the puzzle after the Spain women won the cup not realizing some people might have been trying to avoid the news so they could watch the game later (it was played at 6am, NY time).
So I posted the following:
Oh, no! It was I who thoughtlessly mentioned ESPANA’s victory on Sunday, not thinking it could serve as a spoiler for some. A thousand apologies. Thanks for mentioning it @kitshef so I can be more careful.
Today’s poem from the Poetry Foundation is “Sympathetic Magpies” by James Harris.
There is an old Chinese legend About a weaving girl and a cowherd Falling in love and being punished By Heaven because she was celestial And he was a mere mortal
Heaven only allowed them to meet Once a year On the seventh day Of the seventh month
The magpies were so sympathetic Each year On that day They made themselves Into a bridge Stretching across the Milky Way So the lovers could kiss
Poems are sympathetic magpies Bridges between lovers Bridges between selves Bridges between worlds
It was selected because today is Qixi, also known as Qiqiao, a Chinese festival of romance dating to the Han dynasty. The customs of the festival celebrate the meeting of the lovers Zhinü and Niulang in Chinese mythology.
The clue at 11D today was “Illuminated from behind,” for REARLIT. Joe Dipinto said: REAR LIT is a writing genre wherein descriptions of the characters’ butts drives the story line.
If you want something less silly [I don’t], at 6D the clue was “Tanned and then some,” and the answer was SUNBURNT. There was some carping over whether it should be “sunburned,” and then Anonymous shared this from Keats, Ode to a Nightingale.
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
The Gnats will be buzzing around Yankee Stadium tonight — it’s rare that the teams meet. Jedidiah Gray is pitching for DC and Carlos Rodon for the Bombers. Beautiful night for a game.
The answer to yesterday’s quick quiz: Who said “Pays to buy the best,” and where? It was Ralph Kramden in The Honeymooners. He and Alice were hiring a maid from an agency, and Ralph brought a cigar to smoke, pretending to be a big shot. He took one puff and immediately started coughing his guts out. When he finally stopped, he looked admiringly at the cigar and said “Pays to buy the best.”
Rats! I was hoping for some chatter today from Rex about Lollapuzzoola. He was supposed to be there and I thought I just didn’t see him since it was so big. But it turns out he missed it due to some house-related emergency. He said he heard it was a “rousing success,” which is nice. I checked the results again and it turns out I was bumped down to #100 out of 170, from #97. D’oh! At least I finished ahead of someone named Puzzle McPuzzleface who came it at #163.
Rex said he was able to enjoy two days in the city with his wife and daughter before he had to rush home. His review of the city was that it smells of weed and garbage but is “highly” worth a visit. If you are wondering what part of his head looks like, here’s a shot he posted.
For our Dirty Old Man Dept., he also posted a shot of “a bra my wife thought looked good. I just stared at her like ‘who even are you right now?’ (though tbh I kinda agree with her).” He went on to say “Doing even the dumbest stuff with my wife and daughter is just a blast.” Awwwww.
I managed to complete today’s puzzle using the down clues only, although I accidentally clicked on a couple of acrosses, so I can’t take full credit. I’m going to try to remember to do that on Monday from now on. I liked it. Hey, after my piece on Darryl Strawberry yesterday, the answer at 1D today was STRAW, his nickname. The clue was “Drink sucker upper.” And EDDIE MURPHY was in it, and HEDDA Gabler — there’s an odd couple.
Kerfuffle was a good clue for HOOHA. And the answer for “Stinky” was MALODOROUS, the charge Rex leveled at the city (I agree, esp as to the weed). The menu included a stein of STOUT (“Dark beer variety”) and LOX (“Fishy bagel topper”), with a CURRANT SCONE for dessert (“Fruity breakfast biscuit”). Yum (burp!).
As illustrated here, it goes well with onions, capers, lemon, and a schmear. Can we have a couple more capers over here? Waiter!
Merriam-Webster’s word of the day today is frisson. I had vaguely heard of it, but am happy to learn it means “a brief moment of emotional excitement.” The blah example they used was: He felt a frisson of delight as he stepped through the door to the walled garden.
The novelist Robert Stone was born on this date in 1937 in Brooklyn. He died at the age of 77 in Key West. He was a finalist for the National Book Award five times and did win it for Dog Soldiers in 1975. He was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize twice. He was one of Ken Kesey’s “merry pranksters” in the Hippie era, if you want to call it that.
I haven’t read any of his novels but I’m going to go out on a blimp (is that the expression? — it should be), and infer that he’s pretty good based on the beginning of his first novel A Hall of Mirrors (1967) that today’s Writer’s Almanac shared with us:
“The day before, Rheinhardt had bought a pint of whiskey in Opelika and saved it all afternoon while the bus coursed down through red clay and pine hills to the Gulf. Then, after sundown, he had opened the bottle and shared it with the boy who sold bibles, the blond gangling country boy in the next seat. Most of the night, as the black cypress shot by outside, Rheinhardt had listened to the boy talk about money — commissions and good territories and profits — the boy had gone on for hours with an awed and innocent greed. Rheinhardt had sat silently, passing the bottle and listening.”
Stone never completed an academic degree, but taught in writing programs at various universities. He held a lectureship at Johns Hopkins in1993 before moving to Yale, and he taught writing in 2006 at Beloit, which is Lebanon, right? In 2010, he held an endowed chair in the English department at Texas State University which calls itself “the most beautiful university in Texas.” Here’s Sewell Park, four acres of land along a river on campus. I don’t know, fellas, I think I need more convincing on the “most beautiful” claim.
The soccer world is all abuzz about the kiss “planted” (says the NYT) on the lips of Spanish forward Jennifer Hermoso by the president of Spain’s soccer federation, Luis Rubiales, during the medals ceremony. Here’s a shot of Hermoso, followed by the photo our photographer Phil got of the actual kiss. It does seem a little intense.
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Hermoso said she “didn’t like it,” and it spurred an outcry, including calls for Rubiales to resign. Trump took a break from inventing ludicrous defenses to say Rubiales “should be hung up by his balls.” [No he didn’t.] But Hermoso released a statement seeking to put out the fires. “It was a completely spontaneous mutual [!] gesture due to the immense joy of winning a World Cup,” she posted. “The president and I have a great relationship; his behavior towards all of us has been exemplary, and it was a natural expression of affection and gratitude. There’s no need to over-analyze a gesture of friendship and gratitude; we’ve won a World Cup, and we won’t stray from what’s important.”
OK, Champ — but let us know if you change your mind and want us to rough him up a little. We can send a few enforcer owls over to “reason” with him.
One of the best vacations we had when the kids were little was a trip out to the Grand Canyon, Bryce, and Zion National Parks. We flew in and out of Las Vegas. Anyway, because of that trip, I was able to answer the clue at 12D today which was “National park with the notorious Angels Landing hike,” because we did that hike in ZION National Park. Well, not all of us did — we were worried that Sam might be too young for it — there was a sheer drop-off on both sides of a relatively narrow ridge. Hence the “notorious” in the clue. So Sam stayed back just for that part near the end.
For one or two nights on that trip, our room was a big space on top of a convenience store attached to a gas station. It probably had a “minus three star” rating, but the kids loved it. (“It pays to buy the best!” — Quick quiz — who said that and when?) I remember buying the kids candy in the store — it was convenient! It was like walking down to the living room in your house and there was a whole store there.
Those are good memories.
Feeling dizzy at all? Shouldn’t have had that stout. See you tomorrow, unless I slip.
How prescient was the puzzle today? I just watched the Spain women win the Soccer World Cup, one-love. One-nil? One-zero? Whatever. And the puzzle had ESPANA at 128A and CUP BEARER at 37D! Crossworld, meet real world.
Spain’s amazing Olga Carmona scored the game’s only goal (no relation to Carmona Burana). Owl Chatter photographer Phil caught up with her in the locker room after the game.
Okay, now get out of there, buddy — let the girls get dressed. Phil! Now! Who do you think you are, Trump at a beauty pageant?
Yesterday’s puzzle, at 40D, was a shout out to the Swifties among us. The clue was “Supposed subject of Taylor Swift’s ‘Dear John,’” and the answer was MAYER, for John Mayer an older man she dated and was hurt by when she was 19 and he was 32. It was painful and she was unable to perform the song for years, until reintroducing it on her current tour. What happened was — well, why not let her tell us about it?
Whew – we just need a moment to collect ourselves. Jeez Louise! I better use one of those end-of-section lines.
Who could possibly forget Darryl Strawberry? He had the sweetest lefty swing you would ever see — uncoiling his long arms and sending towering home runs over the right-field fence — 335 by the time he was finished, and exactly 1,000 RBI. Here he is with his wife Tracy.
There was a nice piece on him in the NYT this week. Owl Chatter is taking the occasion to induct him into our own eclectic Hall of Fame. Welcome, Straw! — sure, bring the wife — get in here, Trace.
Darryl led the Mets to the World Championship in 1986 and he owned New York, lock, stock, and barrel of the bat. And then, before you knew it, he was felled by a cocaine addiction and out of baseball, at first for a while, and then, after stints with the Yankees and Dodgers, forever. Today he and Tracy run a foundation that helps addicts. Tracy is an ordained minister with a doctorate in Theology, and is also a recovering addict.
Darryl credits God with his recovery, but he doesn’t try to save or convert anyone — he says most of his friends are Jewish. Kinahora! He and Tracy have nine children between them — yikes! — and he spends 200 days a year visiting churches, schools, hospitals, and prisons. He has special feelings for his prison visits and makes extraordinary connections with prisoners, sometimes getting involved personally in parole applications and the like.
He’s 61 now and I bet he can still park one in the seats. Maybe we’ll see him do just that on September 9th — he’s coming to Old Timer’s Day at Yankee Stadium. Until then, let’s remember the young Darryl — you won’t see a sweeter swing. The late Vin Scully is behind the mic.
Take a look at Puzzle 4 from the tournament yesterday, below: I want to point out some brilliant features of it. It was the hardest of the five puzzles. First, in each of those separate balloons, the letters HE had to be squeezed into a single square twice. That made them “helium” balloons. E.g., 6 across “Be told about” is HEAR OF, but the letters HE share a square so the answer can fit into five squares.
Next, in the main grid, some of the clues referred to the answers in the balloons, but you had to notice that there was a musical note in each of them which you had to convert into the higher note. WTF?? As it says on top “We’re scaling up.” So, e.g., the crossing clues lead you to fill in TINA TURNER as the answer for 49A, but only when you change the TI to LA, does it become LANA TURNER, which answers the clue. Wow.
I had never heard of Kevin G. Der, the constructor, but others at my table did. They gave us 40 minutes to work on it so I was able to fill in all the squares with what I thought were correct answers, but this was the one I got one wrong on — I don’t know which.
Hey, is that FAYE Dunaway in yesterday’s grid, clued as Bonnie from Bonnie and Clyde? It was 1967 and she was on top of the world. Come on in, girl! She’s 82 now. Did you know she earned a BFA at Boston University? She got a Best Actress Oscar nomination for Bonnie, and again for Chinatown, but it was her work in Network that finally got her the award.
Her personal life has been a whirlwind. She dated Lenny Bruce for a year, back in 1962, and then had several intense years with Marcello Mastroianni, while he was married. She wanted them to marry, but he couldn’t bear to hurt his wife so they split. Mastroianni later said he never got over his relationship with Dunaway. “She was the woman I loved the most,” he said. “I’ll always be sorry to have lost her. I was whole with her for the first time in my life.”
She married Peter Wolf, the lead singer of the J. Geils Band, but it didn’t last, and then she married British photographer Terry O’Neill and they have an adopted son, her only child. She credited O’Neill with being “the one person responsible for helping me grow up to womanhood and a healthy sense of myself.” But they divorced too, after which she hooked up with, among others, author Frederick Forsyth. That’s just part of the list, the more famous part – it might be easier if I listed the men she was not involved with.
Here’s what it looks like to be on top of the world.
Make yourself comfortable, Faye — let me get you a cold Zaydie and some Oreos. We are big fans here at Owl Chatter. It’s so good to see you.
I’m gonna hang with Olga, Taylor, the Strawberries, and Faye for awhile. Hope to see you again tomorrow!
Owl Chatter friend Boston Don apprised me of a grievous error in yesterday’s post. I had John Hiatt dead and buried but he lives! In fact, Don tells me he’s turning 71 tomorrow (Sunday), kinahora. Happy Birthday JH! Don surmised, rightly so, that I was confusing him with John Prine, who did pass away three years ago from Covid, at the age of 73. To honor his memory, please enjoy this remarkable song, Lake Marie. Standing by peaceful water. . . .
Today’s poem from The Poetry Foundation is called Have You Prayed? When I first read it, I failed to notice the poet’s name, and I got the feeling while reading it that he must be Jewish, because he made me think of my father. But his name is Li-Young Lee and he was born in Indonesia to Chinese parents.
When the wind turns and asks, in my father’s voice, Have you prayed?
I know three things. One: I’m never finished answering to the dead.
Two: A man is four winds and three fires. And the four winds are his father’s voice, his mother’s voice . . .
Or maybe he’s seven winds and ten fires. And the fires are seeing, hearing, touching, dreaming, thinking . . . Or is he the breath of God?
When the wind turns traveler and asks, in my father’s voice, Have you prayed? I remember three things. One: A father’s love
is milk and sugar, two-thirds worry, two-thirds grief, and what’s left over
is trimmed and leavened to make the bread the dead and the living share.
And patience? That’s to endure the terrible leavening and kneading.
And wisdom? That’s my father’s face in sleep.
When the wind asks, Have you prayed? I know it’s only me
reminding myself a flower is one station between earth’s wish and earth’s rapture, and blood
was fire, salt, and breath long before it quickened any wand or branch, any limb that woke speaking. It’s just me
in the gowns of the wind, or my father through me, asking, Have you found your refuge yet? asking, Are you happy?
Strange. A troubled father. A happy son. The wind with a voice. And me talking to no one.
I’m not going to be writing much tonight. My brain is tired from the Crossword puzzle tournament I attended in the city today: Lollapuzzoola. I loved it and did better than in the last one I went to, but I think the puzzles here were easier, and that was the consensus at my table — that most of them were a bit too easy. But there were five of them, plus the schlep in and out of the city, and you have to understand I haven’t done any real work since 1986. So I’m a little tired.
It was lucky that I signed up a few days ago, because they reached capacity and stopped selling tickets at some point.
The way it works is you earn points on each puzzle. You get a certain number for each correctly filled square with a 100-point bonus if they are all correct. And you earn a point for every second left on the clock. For example, if it’s a 20-minute puzzle and you finish in 15:35, you earn 265 “time” points — for four minutes (240 seconds) and 25 seconds under 20:00.
They had an interesting side feature. Everyone got 8 tickets to use if you wanted to. Each could “buy” you an answer. Say you were stuck on 15 across and you needed it to open things up. You write 15A on a ticket and hold it up. Someone comes and gives you the answer. But it costs you 25 points to do that and you cannot earn the 100-point bonus if you do that. I didn’t use any of my tickets. There were 7 of us at my table and only one solver used a ticket once.
I was able to complete all five puzzles and I earned the 100 bonus points on four of them. I had only one wrong on the other one, so pretty damn good, right? But I didn’t rack up enough points on time to really score high. Out of 170 solvers in my category, I finished at #97. But get this — I finished six slots ahead of Seth who constructed that puzzle we discussed that appeared in the WSJ this week. How the hell did that happen? Nancy — find out if he wasn’t really trying or if he was sick or something.
This was very funny IMO — the fifth puzzle was a tuchas extravaganza — how great is that? The theme was PIN THE TAIL ON THE DONKEY, and there were a bunch of long answers all containing the letters ASS in circles (as part of other words). But they each had two clues and you had to answer it first normally on the paper, and then “pin” the alternate (second) answer onto the second S in the ASS (the “tail” of the donkey). They gave us little pin thingies.
They gave away individually packaged OREOs — Oreo being the official cookie of Crossworld, for obvious reasons. So I grabbed a bunch and threw them in my bag. On the subway down to Penn Station the prettiest little 2-year-old girl got on with her mom and sat down next to me. I asked the mom if she was allowed to have cookies and gave her one of the little packages. It turns out Oreos are her favorite! Hooray!
See you tomorrow — thanks for popping in! If you skipped the John Prine song, scroll back up and listen to it!
I had an appointment with an oral sturgeon today. I’m having two wisdom teeth taken out. I like “taken out” better than “extracted.” Taken out sounds like they’re going on a date; extracted is serious shit with “implements.”
He went over the x-rays with me and agreed with my dentist (Kevin) that it was wise to remove them. He said his assistant would set up the date, shook my hand, and left the room. She brought up the calendar on her computer and asked me if November 14th was okay — a Thursday, at 5pm. I said it was. Then she said she’d meet me out front with some papers.
The papers said it would cost $625 per tooth and that it was scheduled for September 14th at 5pm. So I said to her, “Is it September? You said November.” And she said, “It is September. I may have said November in the room.” And I said “On purpose?” And she said, “No, why would I do that?” And I said, “Right.”
Does stuff like that happen to you too, or am I just lucky?
Trump’s lawyer was making the rounds of the Sunday TV news shows trying out defenses – trying to find one that doesn’t bring on howls of laughter. I think my favorite was that Trump was only being “aspirational” and not conspiratorial. When he asked Georgia’s Sec’y of State Ben Roethlisberger on the phone to find 11,780 votes, he was just “hoping” they could be found, you know, aspiring to them.
I had to fill out a form for the doc today and it asked for my height and weight. In that spirit, I added an inch and subtracted ten pounds. I was being aspirational.
And, btw, Mr. or Ms. Smarty Pants, I know the Georgia guy’s name is Brad Raffensperger. Here’s Big Ben.
Anais NIN was in the puzzle today, clued with “‘Little Birds’ eroticist.” She’s a popular puzzle presence for obvious reasons. She was born in France in 1903 to Cuban parents: her dad the composer Joaquin Nin, and her mom a classically trained singer, Rosa Culmell.
She started keeping journals at age 11 and kept them her whole life. They detailed her private thoughts, including those about her two marriages, many affairs, and personal relationships. She also published novels, essays, and the collections of erotica, Delta of Venus and Little Birds. She was one of the earliest, and is considered one of the finest, writers of female erotica, not that I would know. Nin was a friend, and in some cases lover, of many literary figures, including Henry Miller, John Steinbeck, Antonin Artaud, Edmund Wilson, Gore Vidal, James Agee, Tom Brady, and Lawrence Durrell. (Alright, maybe not Brady.) Many of her diaries were published, of course, and Delta of Venus was made into a movie with the actress Audie England.
Nin married Hugh Parker Guiler, a banker and artist, in 1923. But things got a little sticky when she met actor Robert Pole in 1947 in an elevator when she was 44 and he was 28. They married eight years later but she was kinda sorta still married to Guiler. So, get this — things hit the fan when both husbands claimed her on their tax returns. You can’t make this stuff up. The second marriage was annulled. She died of cervical cancer in 1977, but lives on with great popularity in Crossworld.
On the diamond, Jon Singleton of the Astros homered last Friday, which is no big deal, except that it had been eight years and thirteen days since his previous home run, the longest gap for a non-pitcher since Rafael Belliard went ten years and 144 days between dingers back in ’87 – ’97. Here’s what’s amazing about Singleton, though. He hit another one 26 minutes later!
Singleton spent much of the time between HRs in the minors, or suspended for failing drug tests. He’s admitted to being addicted to marijuana. Owl Chatter hopes he makes it. He’ll be 32 next month.
Teams like to win their series. For example, the Gnats just played Boston three games in a row, and it was a goal for them to take 2 out of 3 (as they did, surprisingly). Similarly, you very much want not to be swept in a series — you know, lose all of the games. Which brings us to the Orioles, who are having a very good year this year. As of this weekend, they have avoided being swept 78 series in a row. That’s the best streak since 1944 and the fourth best streak ever, in MLB history. The ’42-’44 Cards went 125 series without being swept; the 1903-1905 Giants went 106 series; and the ’22-’24 Yanks went 83 series. Here’s an oriole like you don’t usually see them: taking off. And, then, below, a finch, a zebra finch, not in olive drab.
This poem is from Winter Morning Walks, by Ted Kooser.
Our finch feeder, full of thistle seed oily and black as ammunition, swings wildly in the wind, and the finches in olive drab like little commandos cling to the perches, six birds at a time, ignoring the difficult ride.
Tomorrow’s the Lollapuzzoola tournament in the city. Getting nervous. Thanks for popping by.
The Wellington Files 