Although the Texas anti-abortion law allows an exception when the woman’s health is in danger, it’s not clear how that standard applies. And since the penalties for a doc violating the law include up to 99 years in prison and loss of medical license, not surprisingly, docs have shied away from testing the exception. The following is from a story in the NYT on a case seeking clarification from Texas.
“During two days of court hearings in July, the lead plaintiff, Amanda Zurawski, described how she went into septic shock and nearly died when her water broke at 18 weeks, after doctors told her they could not abort the fetus because it still had a heartbeat.
“Another plaintiff, Samantha Casiano, began to cough and gag on the stand as she recalled having to carry and ultimately deliver a fetus that had no skull — and no chance of survival — because doctors could not perform an abortion. The judge called a recess after Ms. Casiano became physically ill.
“Lawyers for the state described the women as publicity seekers on an ideological crusade.”
Hmmmmm.
Judge Jessica Mangum found in favor of the women and broadened and clarified the standards. Texas is appealing the “activist Austin judge’s attempt to override Texas abortion laws.”
God bless the Lone Star State.
Can you use some “positive vibrations” after that? In the puzzle today at 74D, [blank] Vibration was RASTAMAN — Bob Marley’s great album. Let’s all enjoy a listen to the title song.
DYLAN dropped by too, at 35A, clued via his Nobel Prize in Lit, and The DOORS at 87A, although they weren’t really there — the clue was “Options, metaphorically.” (Get it?)
On Thursday, one of the clues was “Word before stamp or young.” Here’s Dylan with The Band:
May your hands always be busy May your feet always be swift May you have a strong foundation When the winds of changes shift May your heart always be joyful May your song always be sung And may you stay — forever young
My favorite clue/answer today was at 77A: The clue was “Why, you little stinkin’ …” and the answer was SON OF A.
And have you been out to SF and visited Pier 39? As the puzzle states, its residents are SEA LIONS.
At 78A, Time magazine’s “Actor of the Century” was BRANDO. Don Knotts came in second. He was pretty far behind though.
Back to rock ‘n’ roll for a moment — here’s the fifth Ramone — Morris Irving Crane Ramone. Son of Sarah Ramone and Sam Ramone. He doesn’t want to be sedated, but he enjoys his afternoon nap.
This piece by Jeremy Wayne was in this week’s Met Diary.
On a broiling summer day in July 2008, I was in the underwear section of a deserted men’s department at Macy’s in Herald Square, taking advantage of the store’s air conditioning as I looked for some new underwear.
A small older woman approached me and asked in a lilting Irish accent if I might help her.
Of course, I said.
“I’m looking for a pair of underpants for an older gentleman,” she said, “but I don’t know what style an older gentleman might wear.”
“Well,” I said, “I might avoid briefs if I were you.” I ushered her away from the displays of the more revealing items and toward some practical alternatives.
“Perhaps a boxer or an old-fashioned Y-front,” I suggested, “and in not too lurid a color. Or you might even run to a check.”
She seemed to like that idea and picked out a three-pack of checked boxers. Then she hesitated and explained that she only needed one pair. We searched again and found a single pair.
She seemed pleased with her choice, and as we said goodbye, she thanked me gently for my help.
“By the way,” she said, “I forgot to mention that the gentleman in question is deceased.”
In the puzzle today, I don’t get why “Big screens” is TAX AUDITS. Otherwise, I liked the puzzle despite some bruisers: “One aboard the Tiangong space station” is a TAIKONAUT, which is the name used in the West for a Chinese astronaut. That’s one serious-ass Saturday-level clue.
At 63A, “Belittling” was DEROGATIVE, like derogatory but with a different suffix. LMS said: I rather like being startled by an unexpected suffix. ‘Cause then I get to sit and ponder different suffixes and how they feel. Derogatistic, derogatant, derogatesque, derogatitious. . .cool beans.
The clue/answer that provoked the most chatter was 15A: “Adoration of the Kardashians, e.g.” The answer was HAGIOLATRY. It generally means the worshipping of saints, so what’s with the K-dashians? Well, a secondary meaning is “undue veneration of a famous person.” So there.
I am so out of it — who are these people? There are six of them? What’s that white thing on the fourth one in?
We learned from 7D that the MASAI giraffe is the tallest land mammal on earth. LMS again: It’s ridiculous how often I think about the Masai. No, really. I’ll trip and almost fall, then check to make sure no one saw me. Then I wonder if a Masai woman would have the same almost-fall-down insecurity. [I can’t tell if she’s kidding — probably, right? — but either way it’s just the type of perfect nonsense we live for at Owl Chatter.]
CDilly52 added:
My niece adored giraffes from a very early age and it was she at the ripe old age of 4 (I remember because she had not started public school kindergarten yet) who taught me about “Messy giraffes.” She read everything she could about them but I was confused. I asked her why they were messy and she said they were too tall to clean their rooms. Later I looked them up and found that they are Masai, but they shall forever be “messy” giraffes to me.
It’s hard for me to predict almost anything about Rex’s writeup. I’ll work my tuchas off to stagger my way through a puzzle and he’ll rate it easy. Ot he’ll fulminate about things that seem neat little nothings to me. His assessment of today’s puzzle was moderate praise, with some griping. And here’s what an anonymous poster said:
“Clearly, the constructor is a friend of Rex. Otherwise, this puzzle would be bashed. Looking back Rex’s write-ups at the constructors older puzzles, [what?] Rex holds back criticism.”
That’s a pretty derogative thing to say, no? — That Rex would fudge a review for a friend. It’s a challenge to his integrity. It’s also a discourtesy, because we are all visiting in Rex’s house when we’re on his blog.
In an unusual rebuttal of sorts, Rex replied simply to note he never met the constructor.
And then Weezie weighed in with:
I really feel like if you’re going to make this type of unkind, groundless claim you should at least have the courage to sign your name to it, aka, as we say in Brooklyn, say it with your full chest. Rex will often go in on the puzzles but rarely goes after the constructors; I wish that folks would afford OFL [Our Fearless Leader] the same courtesy and stay away from this kind of claim. It’s just mean, especially to someone who freely provides all of us a forum to nerd out about crosswords together.
Well put, Weezie!
It was a long day with our whole six-pack of grandchildren. I am worn down and worn out. What a beautiful bunch of kids. How blessed are we, kinahora?
At 8D today, “Charm, to King Charles” was ENAMOUR. The constructor, Brandon Koppy, threw in HRH to let you know you need that British “U” in there. It set LMS off down this path:
Once when I was teaching in WV, on the first day of school, this student (famous for being really smart, boisterous, and funny) came to me after class wanting to flex a bit. Our conversation went something like this:
Carter: Ms. Smith, for some reason when I write, I have to add the U to words like “honor” and “color.” Me: [Pausing to take his measure… squint my eyes, nod my head, raise one eyebrow] So basically what you’re telling me is that you’re an asshole. Carter: [Totally *getting* my point and pleased] Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what I am.
For the rest of the semester, we muttered asshole to each other if one of us used a fancy word. I miss that guy. He showed me how to use the snipping tool, and my life has changed.
It was a tough puzzle that really made me work. Have you heard of BITTORRENT, a peer-to-peer file sharing protocol? Fuhgedaboutit. Or how about ALAN MOORE: Graphic novelist who created “Watchmen” and “V for Vendetta.” Gimme a break! But I was able to pound them out via the crosses, so all is well.
All of the following were great:
“Things that can really make someone pop?” PATERNITY TESTS.
“Big sister?” MOTHER SUPERIOR
“Ineffectual sorts” WET NOODLES
“Junior mint?” PLAY MONEY
“High point of a trip to California?” EL CAPITAN
“A little taller than normal, say, as a kiddie” ON TIPPY TOE
“In shorthand, it’s written with two S’s and two T’s” WEEK
Great puzzle!
“Teacher’s directive” was SEE ME. If, like me, you can’t get enough LMS, here she is again:
“Teacher’s directive” – wanted “shush” first. I have screamy sign directives everywhere in my room, each one resulting from a little dust-up. KEEP OUT from behind my desk. STAY AWAY FROM THIS WINDOW AND GO BACK TO YOUR SEAT (on door window), DO NOT KNOCK ON THIS DOOR AND INTERRUPT MY CLASS (on outside of my door). No one ever pays attention to that one. Someone’s always knocking and wanting things. Ms. Smith, can I have one of those lip balm things? Do you have any snacks? Can I hang out in here with you? Can I borrow a blanket? Do you have a Band-Aid? Can I have just one piece of grandma candy? (those goo-filled strawberry candies). If I have the class engaged and working, a knock on the door breaks the spell, and I just want to cry.
Not everyone enjoyed the Paternity Tests answer. Here’s a comment from Anonymous: As a non biological father, what makes a Pop a Pop is definitely not a paternity test. You can go f*ck yourself with that joke.
Ouch!
Ray Lewis was a great linebacker for the Baltimore Ravens. He led their defense to a Super Bowl win in the Battle of the Harbaughs in 2013 with John Harbaugh, Coach of the Ravens besting his brother Jim of SF 34-31. [Jim coaches the UMich Wolverines now. Go Blue!] Lewis was elected to the NFL Hall of Fame and inducted in 2018. That’s where our story begins: His induction speech ran for 33 minutes and had the entire NFL fandom screaming for mercy. Unbearable. And his was only the worst of a flood of too-long speeches.
To the rescue comes Jezra Kaye, a little gray-haired lady who knows zippo about football. She’s a professional writing coach and has been working with the inductees on shortening their speeches. It’s been a success. Peyton Manning’s speech in 2021 lasted only nine minutes. He mentioned Ray Lewis who he said “just finished giving his speech that he started in 2018.” Tom Flores said his speech would be short because he’s “84 frappin’ years” old and has to be in bed by 9 o’clock. Here’s Lewis. Did I mention, he breathes fire? Scary dude.
Do you recognize this person? She’s been in the news, sadly, lately. I wouldn’t have. It’s Sinead O’Connor, with hair.
She comes up in Rex’s blog today, quite indirectly. The clue at 15A was “1990 film that Roger Ebert called ‘so implausible that it makes it hard for us to really care about the plight of the kid,’” and the answer was HOME ALONE. Rex remembered that Joe Pesci was in it. Rex rarely goes off on tirades about people he hates, but he did today about Pesci. Here’s the story:
Remember the famous SNL episode in which Sinead O’Connor tore up a picture of the Pope and threw the pieces on the ground? It was to protest the harm done to her personally by the Church in her youth and all the harm it has done to children the world over. It took place before the Church’s sordid and outrageous history of child abuse came out. She was ahead of her time. Anyway, in response, Pesci, hosting a later episode of SNL, showed the crowd that he picked up the pieces and taped it back together. And he proceeded to go on an obnoxious rant attacking her. Rex shared the link and I started watching it but couldn’t finish — it was repulsive. I posted that I’d never be able to watch My Cousin Vinny again. (Sorry, Marisa.)
O’Connor, of course, passed away last week. She was only 56. This beautiful and haunting song is called Three Babies and is about three babies she lost to miscarriages. (She had four children who lived.) I’ll let her usher us out tonight. Rest in peace, Sinead.
Well, I’m not much of a swimmer, so I’m pretty impressed. Last week, Caroline Kennedy, who is 65, kinahora, (and the U.S. ambassador to Australia), along with her son Jack Schlossberg and Owl Chatter photographer Phil, swam a portion of the route her dad the Prez swam in his heroic rescue of his PT boat crew back in WWII. The President’s swim was 3.5 miles; Caroline, Jack, and Phil covered about a third of it. It took them 30 minutes and it was between two tiny palm-fringed islets in the Solomon Islands.
Phil was a little winded, but managed to get these nice shots for us. Good work, Buddy — you can go dry off now.
Good-looking kid. Almost as handsome as the Finkelman boys. (Hi Roy and Pam!)
At 14D today the clue was “Cloyingly sentimental” and the answer was GOOPY. Not a direct hit, it seems to me, but probably “close enough for crosswords,” as the saying goes. This is what LMS said: If I knew GOOPY could mean “schmaltzy,” I’ve forgotten. For me, GOOPY means gooey. But it feels like they’re slightly different. Picture a big old ice cream sundae: Gooey describes it sitting there; Goopy describes it as a big glob drops off the spoon onto your shirt. Like, goopy connotes some kind of movement going on. I’m overthinking this. (By the way, “schmaltz strengths” has 15 consonants and 2 vowels. I’ll wait while you write this down.)
At 22D, the clue was “Things tube tops lack” and the answer was STRAPS. LMS again: “I kinda hesitated with the thought that a tube top lacks STRAPS, but I get it. I hate seeing women wearing strapless stuff and constantly tugging and re-adjusting everything lest their HOOTERS. . . ahem. If you’re gonna go the strapless route, make it so that you Wear it, wear it. Use some tape or something so that you don’t have to be constantly messing with it; it kills the effect. Follow me for more fashion advice.”
Note from the Dirty Old Man Dept: LMS, above, was referring to the fact that the answer right after the tube top STRAPS was HOOTERS, but right above that was OWLS, so get your minds out of the gutter everyone! Here are six members of the parliament.
On Ron DeSantis’s attempts to shirk responsibility for the Florida lesson plan that laundered the horror of slavery, Kareem Abdul Jabbar wrote: “DeSantis was trying to wrap himself in the Cloak of Invisibility but instead slipped on the Hoodie of Absurdity.”
It’s hard not to careen down the rabbit hole of Trump’s indictments, but you don’t need Owl Chatter on that topic. Once in a while though, something so wonderful jumps off the page and smacks you on the nose and you just can’t let it go by. It’s too delicious. As reported in The Hill, here is a quote by Alina Habba, one of Trump’s lawyers in the classified papers case:
“If President Trump didn’t want something turned over, I assure you, that is something that could have been done, but he never would act like that. He is the most ethical American I know.”
If you are wondering whether a person who could say that looks like an Earthling — here she is. Apparently the people on her planet have only one ear. Otherwise, quite humanoid.
This poem from today’s Writer’s Almanac is by Laura McKee and is called “Exotic Treats.“
Especially on long drives through the country, you like to tell that story about your old girlfriend whose parrot was killed one afternoon by a raccoon who stole in through the pet door. It was horrible, you say. Feathers everywhere. Are you laughing? Stop laughing. She really loved that bird.
The clue at 17A today is “Rickety piano, in old music biz slang” and the answer is TIN PAN, as in “tin pan alley.” But the story behind it is new to me (as shared by commenter Mack). Back in the late 19th/early 20th century, in an effort to capitalize on popular music demand, a bunch of songwriters and publishers set up shop in a particular area of New York . These folks would continuously be churning out songs to sell. It got to the point that if you walked down a particular street in the city [West 28th Street, between Fifth and Sixth Aves], you could hear a multitude of pianos plinking away through the windows. These were salesmen, not concert pianists, so they often used rickety old dime-store pianos. Someone remarked that walking down the street sounded like rain falling on a bunch of tin pans, and it earned the nickname “Tin Pan Alley.” A plaque on the sidewalk on 28th Street between Broadway and Sixth commemorates it.
Lucky Peterson is going to send us off tonight with his version of “Tin Pan Alley.” Watch out for that busted guitar string Lucky!
I had two contributions to make today to the gang at Rex’s blog. The first related to 32D where the clue was “Kind of gas station that’s illegal in New Jersey,” and the answer was SELF SERVE. There was an assumption that both Jersey and Oregon proscribe pumping your own, but Oregon fell by the roadside recently, so it’s just Jersey. Also, at 25A, “Rocket launcher that makes a whimsical buzzing sound?” was KAZOO BAZOOKA, and I had to share this video I found of a kazoo version of “My Heart Will Go On.”
So this was my post:
Oregon has fallen. You can pump your own gas there now. Jersey, like the cheese, stands alone.
I live in Jersey so it’s a real treat for me to be able to pump my own when I’m driving out of state. I love asking my wife “Check the oil, ma’am?”
In case your life has been lacking a kazoo version of “My Heart Will Go On,” I refer you to the following, for your listening displeasure. I burst out laughing at one point, but that’s me (ymmv). (Ymmv stands for “your mileage may vary.”)
It’s always nice when a common old XW answer gets a fresh new clue. That’s what happened at 6D today where the answer was I DO. The clue was “Possible response to ‘Who wants ice cream?’” egsforbreakfast said: Next time I get married, I’m going to have the officiant ask, “Egs, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife and do you want ice cream?”
At 50A, “Activist Abrams” was, of course, STACEY. But did you know that along with her political activity and writing, she also wrote a slew of romance novels under the pen name Selena Montgomery? Neat, eh? Here’s one of hers called The Art of Desire. I’d guess it’s very different from The Art of the Deal. It’s available from Amazon as a mass market paperback for $14.06.
KAZOO BAZOOKA, see above, was one example of “syllabic palindromes” that were in the puzzle today. There may not be such a thing, but it means the syllables reverse themselves. In kazoo bazooka, “ka-zoo becomes “zoo-ka.” The others were GO FAR IN FARGO, TIC TAC TOE TACTIC, and TORMENTED MENTOR. (In a traditional palindrome, the letters in a word or phrase read the same backwards and forwards. A famous one is Madam, I’m Adam. There’s also: A man, a plan, a canal: Panama.)
Tina Fey was in the grid today. Hi Tina! Nice to see you again. Here’s part of her prayer for her daughter:
“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
Guide her, protect her–
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.
While waiting for my train home today, in Penn Station, I had this exchange with an older man in a t-shirt and jeans. By “older,” I mean about twenty years younger than me. I remember it verbatim because I don’t have too many of these.
Him: Covid over?
Me: What?
Him: Covid over?
Me: I hope so.
Him: Seems to be.
Me: Yes.
Him: When the President is re-elected it’s going to start again.
Me: What’s the connection?
Him: Huh?
Me: What’s the connection?
Him: I guess so, yeah.
Then he walked away, leaving me with a handful of questions, but grateful that he left.
OK kids, here’s your assignment. Take nine (nine!) different trees and find words or word pairs that contain them backwards. Assemble them all as down answers in a crossword puzzle in such a way that the grid looks like a tree. This is what Kathryn Ladner came up with today, brilliantly, IMO. Can you find the nine? — the letters are circled. And can you see the tree?
Commenter Smith said he just couldn’t figure out the theme from the circled letters. He said he “spent quite a few post-solve minutes reading the circles forward, backwards, down and even boustrophedon.”
Wow — have you ever heard that word before? Bocamp did some digging for us:
Boustrophedon is an ancient style of writing that dates back to the early civilizations of Mesopotamia and Greece. The word itself is of Greek origin and translates to “ox-turning” or “as the ox plows.” This name comes from the pattern of the writing, which resembles the path of an ox plowing a field. In the boustrophedon style, the text is written in alternating directions, right to left and left to right, in successive lines. The lines change direction, much like the back-and-forth motion of an ox plowing a field, hence the name. It was used in early writing systems.
Here’s a couplet in boustrophedon:
Roses are red .eulb era steloiv
Who let the oxen out?
Remember 15A: The BAHA MEN? I didn’t. Their big hit was “Who Let the Dogs Out?” That was back in 2000. I’d have guessed it was longer ago. While the question makes sense in the appropriate context (assigning blame for whoever let the dogs out when they were supposed to stay in), the meaning of the lyrics eludes me. E.g.,
Well, if I am a dog, the party is on I gotta get my groove cause my mind done gone Do you see the rays coming from my eye Walking through the place That Diji man is breakin’ it down?
It won the 2001 Grammy for Best Dance Recording, and did very well on the charts. The band (The Baha Men) makes for a good crossword answer, but a little hard for Tuesday, it seems to me. I got it from the crosses and by guessing the first “A.” Here they are, chillin’, having forgotten all about those dogs, from the looks of it.
An ELAND was in the puzzle at 10D: “African antelope that’s the size of a moose.” I was happy to see it because Vermont Lizzie sometimes uses it as a Wordle starter. Hi Liz! Did you know they were moose-sized? Let’s have a look at one — what the hell else do we have to do?
Yup. Looks pretty damn big. They generally hang out in Southern Africa.
Exciting news: I picked up a pair of tix for a Buddy Guy concert in Red Bank NJ on Sept 30. Can’t wait.
I heard Leonard Cohen explain that the “sisters of mercy” were two mini-skirted teeny boppers who had the assignment of picking him up at the airport in Vancouver when he flew in for a concert once. It must have been a very long time ago, since that song is on his first album. I don’t know what my favorite song of his is — so many of them have been important to me over the years, and so many are so beautiful. But I do have a favorite lyric, and it is from Sisters: If your life is a leaf that the seasons tear off and condemn, they will bind you with love that is graceful and green as a stem.
Rex’s friend Rafa covered for him today, and he wrote these nice thoughts:
“I usually guest blog about late-week puzzles, so writing about a Monday puzzle is a bit new to me. Monday puzzles have a special place in my heart, as they were my gateway drug into the world of crosswords. (The crossworld, as they say…)
As such, I feel very strongly that Mondays need to be ultra smooth! Every Monday puzzle could be someone’s first puzzle ever, and if they see things like ARETE or SSTS or ASTA or OSES, etc., etc., they might think puzzles aren’t for them. But puzzles are for everyone! So the Monday puzzle has a huge responsibility to be fun and accessible and smooth.”
I liked the thought of imagining each puzzle’s being someone’s first. It reminded me of the following, which I posted: “That’s a nice notion — to think of every Monday as someone’s first puzzle. Joe DiMaggio said something like he played every game as if there were some kid in the stands who never saw him play before.”
It prompted this nice response from whatsername: “Loved your baseball story, a very apropos analogy to the concept of a first-time crossword solver and a good theory to apply to most any job. When Covid was raging I went to a Walgreens drive-thru for a swab test. The employee at the window reeled off the instructions so rapidly that I had to ask her to repeat some of it. I could see she was a bit annoyed so when I thanked her, I explained that while it may have been the umpteenth time she spoke those words, it was my first time ever hearing them.”
We had a very distinguished guest in the grid today — Justice SONIA SOTOMAYOR! Welcome Sonny! Take a load off — I think I have some chips or something around here. I can’t believe we’re coming up on your 14th anniversary with The Supremes next week. Jeez Louise! Here are those chips. The bag’s been open a while — hope they’re okay — how about a beer? You’re a Bronx girl, right? You gotta like beer! Ever knock a few down with Kavanaugh? Ha!
Back when she was in law school at Yale, Sotomayor had an interesting “run-in.” The DC law firm of Shaw, Pittman, et al suggested during a recruiting dinner that she was only at Yale via affirmative action. She refused to be interviewed by them further and filed a complaint with a faculty–student tribunal, which ruled in her favor. Her action triggered a campus-wide debate, and news of the firm’s subsequent apology made The Washington Post.
Hailing from the Bronx, it’s no surprise that she’s a Yankee fan.
My favorite clue/answer today was at 5D: “Comically packed circus vehicle,” CLOWN CAR. The caption for this photo read: “Twenty-nine clowns test positive for Covid after riding in same tiny car.” D’oh!
Let’s close with the other Supremes tonight. I never appreciated how painful this song is. See you tomorrow!
Here’s a story for those of you who went to rock concerts back in the 60’s and 70’s.
So this anthropologist scored a real coup and got invited to visit and study a tribe in deep Africa that has had no contact with modern civilization ever. She somehow connected with one member of the tribe who was briefly away from the tribal homeland, learned a bit of English, and got permission from the elders for her to visit.
So she made the 9-hour flight to the nearest airport, took a rickety bus to the nearest village, and hiked 15 hours through difficult terrain to reach the tribal land. Her contact met her and showed her to a tent which was to be her home for the two-week stay. And he showed her around, including where she would have her meals with tribespeople as a respected guest. She thanked him heartily. He said she should call him Enyi, which means “friend” in the Igbo language.
As she was getting her bearings she noticed a persistent drumbeat. The next time she was with Enyi she asked him about it, but he just froze and said “Drums good. Drums no stop.” She said, “Is it religious in some way? or cultural?” But he cut her off and just insisted “Drums good” and walked away.
She had trouble sleeping that night since the drumbeats weighed on her mind, but she knew she couldn’t raise the issue again, and she quickly grew used to them. They became a pleasing background, day and night.
Her visit was extraordinary: an anthropologist’s dream. The people were wonderful — the children adored her and the women were fascinated with everything modern about her. She brought cosmetics and hair-care items and toys to distribute as gifts. The men were respectful and kind. She brought small tools and sports items for them. The days flew by.
On her last night there, as she was packing up her things for the trip back to civilization, she suddenly felt something fundamental had changed. It took her a few seconds to realize what it was: the drumming stopped. It had become such a comforting presence, its stopping unnerved her. She went to Enyi’s tent to find out what it meant, if they were in some sort of danger.
When she entered, she saw him sitting on the floor with a look of dread or terror on his face. She had never seen him like that, even when they faced various minor dangers together. She approached him carefully and said: “Enyi. The drumming stopped. What does it mean? What is the danger? What happens now?”
In a voice tinged with agony he said: “Guitar solo.”
And speaking of guitarists, Buddy Guy was born on this date in Lettsworth, LA, back in 1936. He made his first guitar himself when he was 13 out of a two-stringed diddley bow, an instrument consisting of baling wire tensioned between two nails on a board over a glass bottle, which is used both as a bridge and to magnify the sound.
He learned to play by listening to John Lee Hooker records and other blues artists. His parents were sharecroppers and when he was young he picked cotton for $2.50 per hundred pounds.
Guy moved to Chicago when he was 21 and Muddy Waters took him under his wing. In the 70’s his career waned, until guitarists like Clapton, Keith Richards, Beck, and Hendrix said they owed their inspiration to Guy and other blues musicians. A resurgence followed. Clapton once called him “the best guitar player alive.” He’s 87 now and still touring. Holy Sh*t! — I can see him in Morristown in October. Here he is in Newport 30 years ago. According to him, he had the blues, — damn right — from his head down to his shoes.
This poem by Ellen Bass was in The Writer’s Almanac today. Those of you who have daughters (or sons) may relate to it, whether they are married or not. It’s called “After Our Daughter’s Wedding.”
While the remnants of cake and half-empty champagne glasses lay on the lawn like sunbathers lingering in the slanting light, we left the house guests and drove to Antonelli’s pond. On a log by the bank I sat in my flowered dress and cried. A lone fisherman drifted by, casting his ribbon of light. “Do you feel like you’ve given her away?” you asked. But no, it was that she made it to here, that she didn’t drown in a well or die of pneumonia or take the pills. She wasn’t crushed under the mammoth wheels of a semi on highway 17, wasn’t found lying in the alley that night after rehearsal when I got the time wrong. It’s animal. The egg not eaten by a weasel. Turtles crossing the beach, exposed in the moonlight. And we have so few to start with. And that long gestation— like carrying your soul out in front of you. All those years of feeding and watching. The vulnerable hollow at the back of the neck. Never knowing what could pick them off—a seagull swooping down for a clam. Our most basic imperative: for them to survive. And there’s never been a moment we could count on it.
Do you like spoonerisms? That’s what today’s puzzle was about, by the wonderfully named John Kugelman. My favorite was 94A. The clue was “Enjoy your stay on our horse farm. Hope it’s not too noisy. You can expect …” And the answer was THREE MARE SQUEALS A DAY. Ha!
The most controversial was at 38A. The clue was: “I know they’ve had them on all day, but let the kids eat their candy. After all, a Ring Pop is a …” WEARABLE THING TO TASTE. Get it? It’s a play on [A mind is a] “terrible thing to waste.” But the issue is do “wearable” and “terrible” rhyme? If they don’t, it’s an imperfection and heads must roll. The comments came down all over the place on the issue. To my ear, they do not rhyme. It’s wearable as in warehouse, and terrible as in terrier. But in many regions of the country, apparently, they do.
Oddly, a comment from a Northeasterner said they were a perfect rhyme to his or her ears and noted that Merriam Webster has them identical in pronunciation. Hrrrrumph.
Another cute one had Hugh Hefner being called MISTER BUNNY MAGS.
Commenter Nancy, who also constructs puzzles, had her own puzzle using spoonerisms a few years ago. She noted: “Loved it. When comparing this to my Sunday Spoonerism puzzle of 3/15/20, it shows that there’s more than one way to kin a scat.”
Two three-letter answers were clued as the “counterpart” of each other and started with TI. I quickly put in TIC and TAC, as did many others. But the puzzle gods wanted TIT and TAT (as in “tit for tat”). The commentariat was on fire with complaints. Many thought tic and tac should have been considered correct too. Others thought the key was the word “counterpart” in the clues. Tit and tat are counterparts — one is exchanged “for” the other. And tic and tac have no such relationship, they argue. I’m in that camp and am accepting my DNF (did not finish).
ANA de Armas was in the puzzle today and was interestingly clued, which caused me to do some research. The clue was (at 46A): “De Armas who name-checked the New York Times crossword on ‘S.N.L.’” It turns out she hosted SNL. She told a neat story — her first movie role was in a film with Robert de Niro, called Hands of Stone. And de Niro was very supportive and welcoming and friendly. When he learned that Ana is from Cuba, he asked her about her family and he said he was going to be down there in a while and he’d be sure to visit them. She forgot all about it. Well, a few months later she got a call from her dad who was sky high and he told her Robert de Niro just dropped by where he worked to say hello.
Anyway, re the clue, above, she also mentioned in the monologue that she knew she “made it” when she learned she was in the NYT crossword. You got that right, babe! And Owl Chatter!
Hey, Bob — you talkin’ to me? Are you talkin’ to me?
So, get this — on this date in 1975, Jimmy Hoffa vanished. He told friends he was going to meet with two “associates” at the Red Fox restaurant in Bloomfield Township, MI. When he didn’t return, his wife called the police, who found his car in the parking lot. That’s close to where my son Sam, and his wife Sarah and my grandson Mo live. Keep your eyes out for JH, guys. Could be anywhere.
Today’s “tiny love story” in the NYT Style section, “God’s Wife,” is by Caren Albers.
We called Dad “The Answerman.” He seemed to know the answer to every question. Mom accused him of thinking he knew more than God, which was funny since my father was agnostic. “I guess that makes me God’s wife,” she would say. She even went so far as to get a vanity license plate “GDSWF” (“God’s wife”). When she got it, she hadn’t considered any alternative meanings for “GDSWF,” like “Gay, Dominant, Single, White, Female.” When the honks and waves started coming, Mom laughed and waved back, celebrating the diversity of humankind, just as God’s wife would.
That guitar solo from the joke should be over by now — try to get some sleep. See you tomorrow.
I went to a funeral service last night for Tony Zhang, the husband of Wei (Vicky), who teaches with me at Hunter. They have a beautiful 9-year-old son, Ryan, who played a song on the piano to open the service. While they were vacationing in Wyoming, a terrible car crash took Tony’s life. He was only 48. Ryan was hurt, and had to be helicoptered to a hospital, but he’s fine now. The first speaker was Tony’s father, who flew in from China and spoke in Chinese. Several friends spoke next. Then Wei spoke at length and ran the gamut of emotions, from grief to laughter, recounting stories. Behind the open casket, there were arrangements of white roses, a Chinese tradition. Tony had both a PhD in Chemistry from RPI, and a law degree from Suffolk Law School. By all accounts, he was a true mensch — look at that sweet punim — and will be deeply missed by his family, friends, and colleagues.
My colleague Ken was also there. We were chatting before the service began, and I know he has a son who was previously his daughter so I asked him if he saw Barbie yet. I was half-joking. Ken was taken aback for a second and reminded me that his ex-wife was named Barbara and they were sometimes referred to as “Ken and Barbie.” He hasn’t seen the movie.
When Wei spoke, Ken said he didn’t think it was common for a surviving spouse to speak at a service. Then he remembered a story about an Economics professor at Penn whose wife died and who gave the eulogy at the funeral and was arrested for her murder several days later. “That’s cold,” I said.
Ken thought he was still in prison, but Google tells me he served the maximum ten years and was released in 2017. His name is Rafael Robb. It wasn’t exactly murder — he pled guilty to voluntary manslaughter. His wife, Ellen, retained a divorce lawyer and was planning to move out. They had a fight while she was wrapping Christmas gifts, always a stressful time, and he bludgeoned her to death.
I hope it’s not too creepy, but here’s a shot of her hands moments before she was killed. [I’m joking — it’s a random shot I found on the interweb. But I will go pretty low for a laugh from time to time.]
I may have shared this story before, but it’s good, so if I have it’s worth repeating. (Linda tells me most of my cooking repeats on her.) It’s the poet Stanley Kunitz’s birthday today. He was born in Worcester MA and lived to be 100. He was teaching at Bennington when the college tried to expel a student of his three months before her graduation for alcohol-related violations. Kunitz organized a protest and the president of the college came to his home to tell him to stop. Kunitz was potting a plant at the time. He threw the plant at the president and quit. The student was Miriam Marx, Groucho’s daughter. The protest was not successful.
Miriam went on to be a writer at Mademoiselle, and later worked on her father’s hysterical quiz show, You Bet Your Life. In her 1992 book, Love, Groucho: Letters from Groucho Marx to His Daughter Miriam, she detailed her battle against addiction, her difficult relationship with Groucho, and their eventual reconciliation. She died in 2017 at age 90.
Did you know that King David’s father’s name was JESSE? I forgot or never knew that, but that wasn’t what did me in today — it was 33A: “Delivery room offering, informally.” The answer was EPI, for epidural. I know epidural, but I never heard it called EPI. Oh, well.
Here’s Jessica Chastain who won an Oscar for Best Actress in The Eyes of Tammy Faye. She played one of the eyes, very expressively. Chastain is highly protective of her private life, but I was able to find out (it’s on Wikipedia) that she married Gian Luca Passi de Preposulo [I’m not kidding], an Italian count of the Passi de Preposulo noble family, who is an executive for the fashion brand Moncler, on June 10, 2017 at his family’s estate in Carbonera, Italy, which was Linda’s and my 33rd anniversary. They have two daughters.
I am aware that the link between the appearance of JESSE in the puzzle, clued as King David’s father, and the actress Jessica Chastain is tenuous. But it’s a slow news day for Chatter, and she has unusually colored eyes.
The commentariat gave a ton of grief to the constructor, Sam Ezersky, an old hand, for 11A: “Canal implement.” The canal is your ear canal, and the answer was Q-TIP, but many pointed out that you are not supposed to insert a Q-TIP into the canal — it says so right on the package, for Cripe’s sake! But doesn’t everyone?
A few days ago I vented here about a woman who got on the subway and blocked the way for the rest of us. Well, here’s a story about the commission of the same “crime” with a very happy ending. It’s from this week’s Met Diary, and was told by John Diefendorf.
On a sweltering Saturday in summer 1995, I was 25, hung over and waiting for the No. 1 train at 116th Street with a friend. We were on our way to Penn Station to pick up another friend.
When the train arrived, I stepped inside and stopped immediately so that I could lean against the door when it closed. A moment later I felt a sharp jab to my ribs and heard a stern, “Step aside!”
I apologized sheepishly.
The elbow jabber turned and looked at me. She was a petite woman about my age, and something happened when our eyes met.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” she said.
“No,” I said, feeling myself blush. “I just moved here from upstate.”
“You apologized,” she said, smiling. “That’s how I knew.”
“I just finished a parks restoration job upstate,” she continued. “Where did you live?”
By the time we got to Penn Station, I had her phone number and we had arranged to meet with a group of her friends and mine at an East Village bar that night.
We talked until 4 a.m., then went for falafels at Mamoun’s on St. Marks until the sun came up. June 27 was our 25th wedding anniversary.
We cannot let slip by a rave review of a new book on owls: “What an Owl Knows,” by Jennifer Ackerman. It sounds like a long love letter to our favorite bird. Here’s an eggs zerpt from Jennifer Szalai’s review: Each species seems like a marvel, but certain owls are so special that her book is peppered with superlatives. The Eurasian eagle owl is “the most powerful hunter of all owls” (though not to be mistaken for the powerful owl, which will eat as many as 250 to 350 possums a year). The Northern saw-whet is, she says, “arguably the world’s most adorable owl,” with its heart-shaped face and tiny, rounded form. Blakiston’s fish owl is “the world’s biggest owl.”
Here’s a trio of Northern saw-whets. Have you ever seen owls like these?
The title of the review is “Give a Hoot.” We do! See you tomorrow.
The clue at 57A today was “Polyamory portmanteau.” I love portmanteaus. It’s when you squoosh two words together (like squeeze and shmoosh). The answer was THROUPLE. Rex didn’t like it — he said he would have preferred “threedom.” (Let threedom ring!, he wrote.) It gave me the opening to post:
If a throuple decides to end it and winds up in court over who gets the property, it’s a three-piece suit.
When my wife asked if I picked up my outfit for the wedding, I told her I had the jacket and pants but the vest was yet to come.
My buddy “mathgent,” see below. added this:
I had some fun just now looking up THROUPLE (rhymes with “couple”) and menage a trois, and trying to figure out the difference. I think that a THROUPLE can all be of the same sex, menages are two and one. And in a THROUPLE, each member typically will have sex with the other two, not so in a menage.
Good to know.
NEVADA was the answer at 2D, clued with “Home to the U.S. city with the most hotel rooms.” It led Son Volt to share this tune by Deer Tick with us, called “Nevada.”
From the “You-Can’t-Win” Department:
On a family trip about 25 years ago, which included Nevada, I learned that I had been mispronouncing it my whole life (till then). I was saying Nevada like Nev-ah-da, but the locals said it with the “a” as in arrow. I immediately started pronouncing it correctly. My teenaged daughter continued to pronounce it Nev-ah-da. I said, “Caity — we just learned that the people who live here pronounce it Nevada.” And she said, “Well, I don’t live here.”
D’oh!
The puzzle went somewhere it doesn’t usually go with PAD and TAMPON. And Natasha said: “I loved that this puzzle had PAD and TAMPON cross-referencing each other and a neutral reference to “polyamory.” I didn’t love ENGAGEMENTPARTY as the marquis answer, however. F*** the wedding-industrial complex and amatonormativity.” [Wow.]
“Amatonormativity” is a neologism coined by Elizabeth Brake, a philosophy prof at Rice University, in 2011. (Long-grained) It’s the assumption that all human beings pursue love or romance, especially by means of a monogamous long-term relationship.
It’s a two-poem day at Owl Chatter (Hi Jenny!). This first one is from The Writer’s Almanac. It’s called “My Ancestral Home” and is by Louis Jenkins.
We came to a beautiful little farm. From photos I’d seen I knew this was the place. The house and barn were painted in the traditional Falu red, trimmed with white. It was nearly mid- summer, the trees and grass, lush green, when we arrived the family was gathered at a table on the lawn for coffee and fresh strawberries. Introductions were made all around, Grandpa Sven, Lars-Olaf and Marie, Eric and Gudren, Cousin Inge and her two children… It made me think of a Carl Larsson painting. But, of course, it was all modern, the Swedes are very up-to- date, Lars-Olaf was an engineer for Volvo, and they all spoke perfect English, except for Grandpa, and there was a great deal of laughter over my attempts at Swedish. We stayed for a long time laughing and talking. It was late in the day, but the sun was still high. I felt a won- derful kinship. It seemed to me that I had known these people all my life, they even looked like family back in the States. But as it turned out, we had come to the wrong farm. Lars-Olaf said, “I think I know your people, they live about three miles from here. If you like I could give them a call.” I said that no, it wasn’t necessary, this was close enough.
The clue at 27A today was “Outdoor installation using earth, rocks, vegetation, etc.,” and the answer was LAND ART, something I hadn’t heard of. It started LMS off on quite a paragraph. As you should recall, she teaches disadvantaged kids in NC. She talks about being moved to tears in it, and that’s what happened to me.
“I kept thinking about that LAND ART. As always, when ART comes up, I feel inferior and intimidated. I just don’t ‘get’ most art. The emotion I’m supposed to experience never happens. I take that back; once at the Louvre, a painting by Georges de la Tour rendered me speechless, stunned. And Maya Angelou’s ‘Caged Bird’ poem makes me cry every time. When that caged bird ‘opens his throat to sing … a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still,’ I’m overcome. I teach those birds, caged by the crappy circumstances they were born into, caged by the failure of our collapsing educational system, caged by the ignorance of the everyman who refuses to see their very real, very vast potential.”
Here it is, in case it’s been too long since you’ve read it:
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.
I got a nice e-note from “mathgent” yesterday, much appreciated. LIMERICK was in the puzzle and several folks shared limericks with us, including one on rabbits. It lead me to post this joke:
So these two life-long friends, Pete and Louie, make a pact that when the first one of them dies, he’ll come back after a year and tell the other what the afterlife is like. Years go by and Pete slips on a banana peel (badly) and dies. A year later Louie is waiting up, nervously, hoping to hear from Pete. But it’s midnight, then 1 am, and there’s nothing, so he falls asleep.
A few hours later, it’s pitch dark and he hears “PSST, PSST, Louie.” And he wakes up and says “Pete! You came back!! So what’s it like?” And Pete says, “Well, I get up in the morning, have sex, and then have a little breakfast. Then I have sex again, and then again, and then I have lunch. After lunch, I have sex again, and then again, and then dinner. And then there’s sex one more time and I go to sleep.”
And Louie says, “Wow, so that’s really what heaven is like?” And Pete says, “Who said anything about heaven? — I’m a rabbit in Colorado.”
I posted the joke fairly late in the day (4:30PM), so wasn’t expecting much of a response. But around 6:30, I got this email, which made my evening:
Dear Avi,
It’s too late to reply on the blog. Your joke cracked me up. Then I read it to my wife, who also doubled over. Great one.
mathgent
Quite an EGO BOOST, right? Well, the clue at 34D today was “Spirit-raising?” and the answer was EGO BOOST. It led LMS to post the following from which I learned that “peruse” is a contronym, i.e., a word that means both what it means and its opposite. Like “sanction” means both to allow and to punish. Peruse means both to skim over something and to study it carefully. Here’s what she wrote:
Loved EGO BOOST. Since BOOST can also mean “steal,” that phrase could *almost* be one of those Janus dealies like sanction and peruse. You can get your ego boosted by a compliment or a put-down. Last year, I called the mom of a student from the Congo because I wanted to tell her how terrific her son was. When she answered with an accented, tentative, Hello, I knew I was in trouble. Vic had told me that they speak Lingala, and my Lingala consists of one word: mbote. But I forged ahead. Parlez-vous francais? … Oui. I proceeded to tell her in French how lovely her son was – nice, smart, respectful. The next day my conversation with Vic went something like this:
Me: Did your mom tell you I called? Vic: Yes Me: Did she tell you I spoke to her in French? Vic: Yeah. She said your French isn’t that good.
EGO. BOOSTed. Ouch. Hey – I haven’t really spoken French in almost 40 years. But he assured me that she understood what I was saying.
On the Barbie front, I suggested to Daughter #1 that she take the girls (Lianna, almost 14, and Zoey, 8) to see it as a nice mother/daughter outing. And she told me Lianna already saw it and hated it. D’oh!
The Wellington Files 