Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day is girandole, which is new to me. It’s fitting for the day because it covers certain fireworks: a radiating and showy composition (such as a cluster of skyrockets fired together). It’s also often used for an ornamental branched candlestick, or a pendant earring usually with three ornaments hanging from a central piece.
Here’s a nice one, followed by my Aunt Bertha showing off some girandole earrings she found at a flea market somewhere.
A pair of Rex comments today about the puzzle’s theme (which was burger toppings):
Dr. Haber: Was wondering, can “plain” be a topping? Asking for a friend.
Bageleater: No. Plain can not be a topping. When a burger is plain, there is nothing on top.
Thanks for clearing that up, fellas.
So, as noted, the puzzle theme was burger toppings, with each topping part of long answer: TOMATO METER (Movie rating scale with “Fresh” and “Rotten” labels); GLASS ONION (2022 murder mystery movie with cameos by Serena Williams and Yo-Yo Ma); PICKLEBALL (Sport craze of the 2020s); and GREEN CHEESE (Moon’s makeup, fancifully).
And the toppings were sort of stacked (in the grid) on top of the
CHEESE BURGER
About “Glass Onion,” Joe Dipinto noted “before the movie, there was this song,” and he shared this Beatle tune that reminded me how long it’s been since I’ve heard a Beatle tune.
But the most exciting news of all is that our favorite commenter, LMS, is back, after a long (unexplained) absence, and the commentariat (and Owl Chatter) are delighted. Here are her comments on two of today’s puzzle answers: BUTTS (Cigarette discards), and NAME IT (“Whatever you want — just say!”).
“Mr. BUTTS is our tech guy at school and he’s a beast. Love him. But what a tough name to have if you work with teenagers. In WV, we had a Mrs. Butts who retired and was replaced by Ms. Heiney. I. Kid. You. Not.
“NAME IT. Hmm. Whatever you want. Apparently they’re offering signing bonuses to any teacher willing to work at Turning Point. So many are afraid of the idea of working at an alternative school that it’s extremely hard to find employees. (A substitute teacher was attacked a few months ago, and she was interviewed on the news. I’m glad she shared her story – every bit of it true – but it didn’t help in our constant endeavor to fill positions.) The obvious question for those of us who’re already there is obvious: what about us? Don’t we deserve a little something, too? I heard that they’re actually going to meet with us and ask what it will take to get us to stay. I haven’t worked out my demands yet, but honestly, I love it there so much that I don’t really need any kind of incentive.”
Here’s the TV report on the attack:
On Sunday, “Contents of some streaks on cheeks,” was MASCARA.
C’mon. Cheer up young lady. Tomorrow will be brighter. See you then!
Hey everybody! Welcome to Owl Chatter’s 250th Post! We’re so glad you could join us today!
As we “teased” earlier this week, our special guest is probably the most sought-after celebrity on the planet right now — C’mon, folks — let’s have a special Owl Chatter welcome for everybody’s favorite mutineer Yevgeny Prigozhin!
Yev! – C’mon in! You’re looking mighty spiffy out of uniform – just need to work a bit on that “thumbs up” signal — you’ll get it! Just fold in those other fingers a bit more. Phil — help him out!
And look what he brought, everybody! You can take the homicidal butcher out of the caterer, but you can’t take the caterer out of the homicidal butcher — as the saying goes. Amirite, Yev? You shouldn’t have — dig in everybody! Careful with those watermelon balls — if I know Yev, they’re soaked in vodka — or gasolene — Kaboom! Ha! I guess Zelensky’s not the only comedian around here! How about a few words, YP?
Thank you, Owl Chatter friends! What honor it is for invitation to wonderful 250th post party! Please enjoy food — there is plenty more in tanks. Thank you for making us feel safe — New Jersey is — how you say? — mob controlled. Even close personal friend Vlad Putin afraid to come here. We lost three men in Newark already, just shopping for CDs.
Thank you, Yev! The honor is all ours! But please, relax. We have a special guest for you and the fellas. TS — I think you have a message for YP?
Hey Mr. P and all of you good-looking manly Wagner Swifties! Welcome to Jersey — and Owl Chatter! Love those outfits! If anyone could use a good breakup song now, it’s gotta be you, amirite? You and that big Russian bully used to be so close! And now he’s trying to poison you, or worse — believe me, I’ve been there. Haters gotta hate. But here’s what you have to do, Mr. P — no question — Just Shake It Off!
Thanks for coming TS! Brilliant as usual. Enjoy the spread — Yevgeny brought it all — careful with those watermelon balls.
Here’s a wonderful poem from TWA today — perfect for the occasion. It’s by Sharon Olds (who has appeared in puzzles from time to time) and it’s called Diagnosis.
By the time I was six months old, she knew something was wrong with me. I got looks on my face she had not seen on any child in the family, or the extended family, or the neighborhood. My mother took me in to the pediatrician with the kind hands, a doctor with a name like a suit size for a wheel: Hub Long. My mom did not tell him what she thought in truth, that I was Possessed. It was just these strange looks on my face— he held me, and conversed with me chatting as one does with a baby, and my mother said, She’s doing it now! Look! She’s doing it now! and the doctor said, What your daughter has is called a sense of humor. Ohhh, she said, and took me back to the house where that sense would be tested and found to be incurable.
Let’s start today with some acrobatics. It’ll loosen us up. They are by Carly Schuna who happens to be the constructor of today’s excellent puzzle! Her performance on the German Wheel runs about 5 minutes at the end of which you may feel joyful. How often can you say that?
After referring to CHICK LIT as a “stupid derogatory term” today, Rex felt the need to write: “I should add that most everyone I know is a woman.”
So I added the following note:
“So Rex mostly knows women? That explains why he’s so grumpy most of the time. [That was a joke. I ran it by my wife before typing it. She told me not to use it, but only because it’s not funny. Good point.]
“And speaking of mostly women, my daughter Caity is an excellent RN in oncology. (I am very proud of her.) Once when she was a nursing student, she texted me and asked if I could bring her notebook to her in class — she had left it on her desk at home and she needed it for an open book/notes exam. She gave me the room number and said I should just come in, stand in the back, and she’d come and take it from me. I said sure, grabbed it, and drove the short distance to her school.
“The minute I walked in, about 20 exquisite 19-year old women turned and looked at me. It was like walking into a Victoria’s Secret catalog. The instructor said something, and I remember thinking if I could somehow get out the words ‘daughter’ and ‘notebook’ amid my stammering, I might be okay. Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, Caity rescued me (with a big smile) by coming up and taking the book.”
A Rex commenter today used the expression “generational difficulty.” Puzzles can be skewed towards a specific generation or generations. And if yours is not among them, you have to hope the crossing answers will rescue you. I’m at sea when it comes to rap stars and texting lingo, except for the few of each that are in widest circulation. I’m also weak on old movies and the sciences.
Today there were two long answers that were Gen-Z-centric. One was “‘I can relate,’ in Gen Z slang.” The answer was THAT IS SUCH A MOOD.
WTF? I have never seen that. This is what Google gave me: It means that something you see perfectly portrays a feeling/mood that you have/are having. For example: You’re at the zoo and tired and you say “That sleeping panda is such a mood.”
The other one was “‘As frickin’ if!’” The answer was HELL TO THE NO. Apparently, it’s said instead of “Hell no!” That’s news to me.
On the other hand, there was “Dancing duo of the early 1900s,” which was even before my time. It was ASTAIRES. Fred danced with his sister Adele back then. At least I’ve heard of Fred.
Did you know this about IDAHO? According to 26A, its name is completely fabricated despite being “translated” as “gem of the mountains.”
The clue at 47D was “Brief out line?” and the answer was I LOSE, the reference being to something like a poker game where I’m out = I lose. I agreed with several commenters who said a better answer would have been I’M GAY.
A few days ago Owl Chatter chatted about Miss Cleo, the TV psychic who was famous enough from her late-night TV ads to make it into the puzzle. I don’t recall seeing any of the ads, but I wish I had — she was great! Take a look:
The Poetry Foundation sent this poem today. It’s by Jacqueline Allen Trimble and is called The Language of Joy.
Black woman joy is like this: Mama said one day long before I was born she was walking down the street, foxes around her neck, their little heads smiling up at her and out at the world and she was wearing this suit she had saved up a month’s paycheck for after it called to her so seductively from the window of this boutique. And that suit was wearing her, keeping all its promises in all the right places. Indigo. Matching gloves. Suede shoes dippity-do-dahed in blue. With tassels! Honey gold. And, Lord, a hat with plume de peacock, a conductor’s baton that bounced to hip rhythm. She looked so fine she thought Louis Armstrong might pop up out of those movies she saw as a child, wipe his forehead and sing ba da be bop oh do de doe de doe doe. And he did. Mama did not sing but she was skiddly-doing that day, and the foxes grinned, and she grinned and she was the star of her own Hollywood musical here with Satchmo who had called Ella over and now they were all singing and dancing like a free people up Dexter Avenue, and don’t think they didn’t know they were walking in the footsteps of slaves and over auction sites and past where old Wallace had held onto segregation like a life raft, but this was not that day. This day was for foxes and hip rhythm and musical perfection and folks on the street joining in the celebration of breath and holiness. And they did too. In color-coordinated ensembles, they kicked and turned and grinned and shouted like church or football game, whatever their religious preference. The air vibrated with music, arms, legs, and years of unrequited sunshine. Somebody did a flip up Dexter Avenue. It must have been a Nicholas Brother in a featured performance, and Mama was Miss-Lena-Horne-Dorothy-Dandridge high-stepping up the real estate, ready for her close-up. That’s when Mama felt this little tickle. She thought it might be pent-up joy, until a mouse squirmed out from underneath that fine collar, over that fabulous fur, jumped off her shoulder and ran down the street. Left my mama standing there on Dexter Avenue in her blue suit and dead foxes. And what did Mama do? Everybody looking at her, robbed by embarrassment? She said, “It be like that sometimes,” then she and Satchmo, Ella, and the whole crew jammed their way home.
The Owl Chatter staff is still working on the lineup of special guests for the next post after this one, which will be #250. We’ll be broadcasting from the Walls of Jericho Valley in the Berkshires, where the air, we hope, will not be too smoky (cough, cough).
An article on the front page of today’s NYT sounded like Ray and Tom’s Car Talk theory that holds that the earth’s rotation is caused by billboards, i.e., when wind hits a billboard it causes the earth to rotate. It’s hard to argue against a view that is so strongly anchored in common sense, right? Similarly, Ki-Weon Seo, a geophysicist at Seoul National University, explained why the earth’s axis is going “off-kilter.” The wind is just part of it.
As it moves through space, “the Earth wobbles like a poorly thrown Frisbee” because it bulges at the Equator, water is sloshing around in the oceans, and air masses are whirling. [Oddly, the article does not mention billboards.] Well, now it’s been discovered that the Earth’s axis is “wandering” due to imbalances caused by glaciers and ice sheets melting, and because trillions of gallons of water are being pumped up from underground annually.
The effect has been pretty small so far — I certainly haven’t felt anything, though I do keel over from time to time. So, e.g., there has been no effect on the seasons (which are determined by the planet’s tilt). But navigation systems may be off. The next time you think your GPS is taking you to that new restaurant in West Orange, but you wind up in Lawrenceville, you know what to blame — that f*cking wandering axis. Or maybe this enormous woman. Or the billboards.
Bobby Osborne died on Tuesday at age 91 in a hospital in Gallatin, Tennessee. Besides his accomplishments in Bluegrass music, he fought with the Marines in Korea where he was wounded in combat and awarded a Purple Heart.
His brother Sonny and he formed the Osborne Brothers in 1953 and revolutionized Bluegrass music with innovative harmonies, instrumentals, and an expansive repertoire. Bobby was also a brilliant and innovative mandolinist. Almost single-handedly, he fought off the effort to rename it the persondolin.
He and Sonny were the first to record “Rocky Top,” written by hubby-and-wife team Felice and Boudleaux Bryant. It was the Osbornes’ biggest hit and was adopted as one of Tennessee’s state songs. It’s also the fight song of the U. Tenn Volunteers. “Ain’t no smoggy smoke on Rocky Top: Ain’t no telephone bills.”
I can’t decide which of two versions I like better, so I’m including both. (Neither is the original – sorry Bobby.)
The song appears to be celebrating the murder of federal agents.
Once two strangers climbed ol’ Rocky Top Looking for a moonshine still. Strangers ain’t come down from Rocky Top Reckon they never will.
Bobby was born on Dec. 7, 1931 in Thousandsticks, an unincorporated Appalachian enclave near Hyden, Kentucky. He is survived by his wife Karen, four children, a sister, five grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren, all of whom, he would be pleased to know, are still tapping their toes.
In the puzzle today “Captain’s emergency quarters” was SEA CABIN. I hadn’t heard of it in all my years on the sea (none). But commenter LTJG John said:
“The Captain’s SEA CABIN is a real thing. It’s a small space adjacent to the bridge on a warship where the Captain can sleep when the ship is under way. Allows him to jump into action quickly when there is an event that requires his immediate presence on the bridge. Otherwise, he would have to be fetched from his fancy Captain’s quarters, which would take many crucial minutes. Saw frequent use of it during 3 years aboard the heavy cruiser USS Saint Paul during the Vietnam war.”
Have you heard the word “dysphemistically?” It’s the opposite of “euphemistically.” In the latter, you use a nicer word; in the former, you use a less nice word. It came in the clue “‘Free to pursue other opportunities,’ dysphemistically.” The answer was AXED. Nicer ways to put it might be “let go,” or “in between jobs.”
How about: “French clog … and the root of an English word meaning “disrupt.” The answer was SABOT and the word that stems from it is “sabotage.” It does come directly from the shoe, per Wanderlust: SABOTage became an English word in the early 20th century, coming from the French saboter, which means “kick with SABOTs, willfully destroy.”
From the Owl Chatter Nit-Picking Dept: 5D today was “First name in pilsners,” and, that being my “wheelhouse,” as they say, I wrote STELLA right down. But it rubbed commenter okanaganer wrongly: “The clue for STELLA grated a bit… Stella is not a first name, it is actually THE name of the beer, latin for ‘star.’ And Artois was the name of the first brewery to make it.”
OK. Thanks! (Burp!)
This is nice — Crossworld doffed its cap to honor Gilda Radner whose birthday it was yesterday (as Owl Chatter noted). In today’s New Yorker puzzle, the clue at 5D was “Gilda Radner ‘S.N.L.’ character based on an iconic journalist.” (Eight letters, and you should know the answer.)
Happy 6th Birthday Leon! What an incredible little guy! To 120, Buddy! (Isaac on the side, uncharacteristically quiet.)
In yesterday’s Pirates-Padres game, Pirate pitcher Rich Hill got the win (his 7th), lasting 6 innings and giving up four runs. He faced Nellie Cruz three times, twice retiring Cruz, and once yielding a run-scoring single. When Cruz reached first, he may have turned to first-bagger Carlos Santana and said “Oy!” The reason these confrontations are noteworthy is that Hill and Cruz are the two oldest players currently in MLB. Hill turned 43 on March 11, and Nelson will celebrate his 43rd on Saturday. Cruz has 464 lifetime home runs. In the six-year period 2014-2019 he averaged over 40 HR and 105 RBI a year. Hill’s lifetime record is 89-66 with a 3.89 ERA.
Hill looks like your Uncle Morty up there on the mound after a sleepless night from his enlarged prostate. Cruz is graying but still looks pretty spiffy.
In the puzzle today, 33D was “Like a free ride when you’ve already paid, per a 1996 hit,” and the answer was IRONIC. It’s a line from the Alanis Morissette song Ironic. At the time, a big topic of discussion was whether the examples she used in her lyrics are actually ironic. Rex noted NPR had a segment with an English professor on the issue. I wish I had heard it. Here are ten examples from the song, most of which don’t seem ironic:
(1) An old man turned ninety-eight He won the lottery and died the next day (2) It’s a black fly in your Chardonnay (3) It’s a death row pardon two minutes too late
(4) It’s like rain on your wedding day (5) It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid (6) It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take
(7) A traffic jam when you’re already late (8) A “No Smoking” sign on your cigarette break (9) It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife (10) It’s meeting the man of my dreams And then meeting his beautiful wife
For one thing, aren’t (2) and (4) just bad luck? Where’s the irony? Comedian Ed Byrne said the only thing ironic about the song is that it’s called Ironic. Alanis herself admitted that she was using the term very loosely.
If your subscription to Fig City News has lapsed, then you missed the neat story on friend Alan’s pollinator garden that is in full bloom and was celebrated with a ribbon-cutting ceremony recently, the surprising part of which was that Alan is apparently trusted with scissors or some sort of sharp instrument. Along with the leader of an Eagle Scout troop, Alan spent months planning the garden, securing funding, and engaging the City’s Parks, Recreation & Culture Department. It’s in Cold Spring Park in Newton, MA; Alan is the Prez of the Friends of CSP.
As the article notes, the garden is composed of native plants that attract and nurture native birds, insects (including bumblebees and 10 species of butterfly), and amphibians. Insect pollinators — which are needed to support the procreation of 85% of plants — are in danger of significant decline, and gardens like this one counteract that trend locally.
Thanks to Owl Chatter friend Andreae, Newton Councilwoman (Councilor?) for this story! Easy with that blade, Alan!
It’s the birthday of the widely-loved Michigan girl Gilda Radner today. Gilda would have been 77, were it not for her untimely death way back on May 20, 1989, at age 42, just over 34 years ago. The cause of death was cancer. Gilda also struggled for many years with bulimia.
Rolling Stone said of her: “Gilda was the most beloved of the original [SNL] cast. In the years between Mary Tyler Moore and Seinfeld’s Elaine, Radner was the prototype for the brainy city girl with a bundle of neuroses.”
Here are several things she said:
I base most of my fashion taste on what doesn’t itch.
I’d much rather be a woman than a man. Women can cry, they can wear cute clothes, and they’re the first to be rescued off sinking ships.
Adopted kids are such a pain – you have to teach them how to look like you.
And this line of hers may be the best I’ve ever heard on overeating: “I’m so full I can’t hear.”
Happy Birthday, Gilda!
Owl Chatter Nit-Picking Dept.
The puzzle today had “Harbinger of danger,” for CANARY in a COAL MINE.
smalltowndoc asked: “Is a CANARY in a COAL MINE really a harbinger of danger? Shouldn’t it be a dead CANARY in a COAL MINE?”
Mr. Grumpypants replied: “The canary keels over before it dies and before humans would be affected, so, yes, that was accurate.”
Okay. Thanks fellas.
If you’re not familiar with Randy Rainbow, try this one.
Below is today’s grid. Note the circled letters. Can you infer the theme from them? The “revealer” is at 59A: MUSTACHE. The circled letters spell out four types of mustaches, and their shapes! Quite a feat of construction, IMO.
The best one is right in the middle: HANDLEBAR. The other three are FU MANCHU, DALI, and PENCIL. Happily, the Hitler mustache was excluded. Here’s a nice handlebar: it’s Rollie Fingers, Hall of Fame pitcher.
Rex liked the puzzle, but thought the clue for the revealer was blah. It was “What each set of circled letters in this grid represents.” Yup. Blah. Well, the constructor, Anthony Gisonda, chimed in to defend himself! He said he submitted the puzzle with a different clue, but Will Shortz changed it. The clue (for MUSTACHE) was originally going to be something about the puzzle’s “participation in MOVEMBER.” (What?) Here’s what Wikipedia says: “Movember is an annual event involving the growing of mustaches during the month of November to raise awareness of men’s health issues, such as prostate cancer, testicular cancer, and men’s suicide. It is a portmanteau of the Australian-English diminutive word for mustache, ‘mo,’ and ‘November.’” The NYT editors must have thought that was too hard for a Tuesday.
And now for something completely ridiculous, check out this video offered up by Rex commenter Mack:
The clue at 33A was “Famed 1990s TV psychic,” and it’s MISS CLEO. Her actual name was Youree Dell Harris. You may have seen her in late-night TV ads long ago, shilling for the Psychic Readers Network. She answered the big questions of life for callers. It was a total fraud, of course. Callers were charged by the minute, even if they were promised a free trial. She got into that only after failing in more legitimate theater — she wrote and produced several shows in Seattle, but fled the city leaving creditors and unpaid cast-members behind when the shows failed.
When the psychic scam blew up she managed to avoid indictment. The owners settled by releasing callers from $500 million in fees and paying $5 million to the FTC. It had been a billion-dollar business. Harris was very likeable and popular. She used a phony Jamaican accent it was easy to develop due to her Caribbean heritage. She said she never made much money herself as Miss Cleo. But she enjoyed having fans:
“If I’m standing in line somewhere and I’m talking, someone will whip their head around and look at me. People give me mad love, sweetheart. They’ll say, ‘Do you see anything? Where do we find you? When are you coming back? We miss you.’ I get a lot of love.”
Harris died from cancer at only age 53 in 2016. She is survived by two daughters. She can still be reached at an 800 number. Have your credit card ready, Honey.
At 49A, “Baby shower guest of honor,” was MOM TO BE. Here’s a surprise! If you think her dad was mad before over the legs business . . . .
And here’s a real one. Awwww. . .
Phil! Make sure she’s comfortable before you leave.
Here’s a note from mathgent I love:
I just found this on last Friday’s puzzle page. I think it’s the answer to the Thursday cryptogram.
“Have you checked out that chic new bistro, Karma? There’s no menu. You get what you deserve.”
Jim in Canada shared this nice note:
Interesting(?) personal trivia… I met my husband because of his mustache. I searched that term on a dating site and his profile popped up. He has a glorious big HANDLEBAR and looks a lot like the Monopoly guy. Had to quit my job, sell my house, and move to Canada to marry him…. Nine years ago now. Totes worth it.
[Sweet.]
If I could only fly If I could only fly I’d bid this place goodbye And come and be with you.
The answer at 9D was BLAZE, and it led Son Volt to share this song by Blaze Foley, called “If I Could Only Fly.” If you can spare five minutes, you might find it to be beautiful.
So — Owl Chatter fans — we’re coming up on our 250th post soon! I know — hard to believe. Don’t get your hopes up, but the staff is working hard on getting Yevgeny Pregozhin to stop by. It would be quite a coup. (Literally.) The hope is he’d bring some fancy eats — as you may know, he started out in the catering business before becoming a ruthless warlord, which is actually not a very uncommon path for warlords. Word is he’s in Jersey anyway, so it shouldn’t be too big an ask. Hope to see you YP! (If we can get Taylor to show, the men might forgive your gutless cave-in, amirite?)
We’ve heard back from Owl Chatter’s Director of Puns, Brookline Carl, who conceded that his eyes glazed over when he heard the topic was pottery. His first response was to go out and get plastered. But he is deep into his research now, starting with No Joy In Mudville, the acclaimed novel about a community of disconsolate potters. He’ll also be reading the speeches of Henry Clay and the entire Harry Potter series, as well as looking into the exploits of Sir Amic, Knight of the Round Table. He’ll keep us apprised of how things are shaping up.
Here’s a young lady in a neat Harry Potter outfit:
Today’s puzzle has the theme at 61A: PICKY PICKY PICKY, and it’s about folks who “pick” things: VEGETABLE FARMER, BANJO PLAYER, and TEAM CAPTAIN. It also sticks in a couple of things you pick as short answers: NITS, SPOT, PEA (as in pea-pickin’), and ACNE(?). Missing is NOSE! Boo!
Here are two of our finest banjo “pickers:” Bela Fleck and Tony Trischka.
An ANGORA CAT was in the puzzle today: Meow!
As much as Owl Chatter tries to avoid becoming a platform for Trump, once in a while there is a quote so delicious it can’t be ignored. This time, it’s his version of the notion that “Christ died for you.” Speaking at the Faith & Freedom Coalition gala in DC on Saturday (for 90 meandering minutes, according to the Times), Trump said: “I’m being indicted for you.” Hallelujah!
Forty years ago this week, Twilight Zone: The Movie opened to, at best, mixed reviews. Vincent Canby called it a “flabby mini-minded behemoth.” But do you remember this? — On the same day it was released, grand jury indictments were unsealed against five of the filmmakers, including director John Landis, in connection with a stunt that went bad and killed three people: 2 children, ages 7 and 6 (Myca Dinh Le and Renee Shin-Yi Chen) and actor Vic Morrow.
Morrow’s character was a loud-mouthed bigot who was transported into various scenes in which he is the victim of bigotry, e.g., the Klan-era South, and a Vietnam battle scene. In Vietnam, he’s carrying two kids to safety across a river as a village explodes behind them. But the effects were f’cked up and the explosion caused a helicopter to crash and kill them. It later emerged that use of the kids violated child labor law provisions. Also, Landis was abusive on the set towards everyone and cavalier about safety requirements. Get this — he ordered the use of live ammo because he didn’t like the effect of fake gunfire. All five were charged with involuntary manslaughter, a felony. But, as the NYT put it, all were acquitted “thanks to a somewhat bungled prosecution and a seemingly star-struck jury.”
Despite the horrifying and damning elements of the case, Hollywood rallied behind Landis. Sixteen major directors — including Francis Ford Coppola, Ron Howard, John Huston, George Lucas, Sidney Lumet and Billy Wilder (but not Spielberg)— signed an open letter of support for him, and his career was not at all derailed. Landis directed the music video for Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” and the feature comedies “Trading Places” and “Three Amigos” in that period. After the trial, Eddie Murphy hired Landis to direct his 1988 comedy “Coming to America,” though they clashed during production; while promoting the film, Murphy was asked if he’d ever work with Landis again, and he (tastelessly) said “Vic Morrow has a better chance of working with Landis than I do.” But the film was a gigantic hit, and six years later, Landis again directed Murphy in “Beverly Hills Cop III.”
The Times says people are still dying on film sets as budget concerns take priority over safety. Those poor children died needlessly. Their parents filed civil suits and settled out of court. The same occurred with a suit filed by Jennifer Jason Leigh — Vic Morrow’s daughter. In an Owl Chatter exclusive, here’s Morrow carrying the kids in the scene before they were all killed.
Let’s end on a brighter note: The lovely Duchess of Sussex, Meghan MARKLE visited the grid today. What in the world does Harry see in her?
On this date 85 years ago, the federal law was passed establishing a minimum wage, time-and-a-half pay for overtime, and proscribing child labor. And it all started with a pretty girl! What doesn’t? FDR was campaigning for re-election when a young girl was held back by security trying to pass him a note. He asked to see it, and was at first disappointed that it didn’t contain her phone number. He went on to read it nevertheless. It said “I wish you could do something to help us girls.” She described her pay in a sewing factory as just $4 per week. Yikes, that’s almost as bad as CUNY faculty salaries! Roosevelt decided then that he needed to act on child labor and minimum wage laws.
I couldn’t come up with a photo or name for that girl, but another story popped up — the Anna Sklepovich story (that was her real name). In 1941, Anna wrote a note to FDR wishing him a happy birthday and noting that they had the same birthday (Jan. 30). FDR’s secretary, Margaret LeHand, sent a nice note back to Anna. Here’s where things run off the rails: Anna’s brother intercepted the note and added a phony invitation to the White House at the bottom. He must have done a convincing job, because two days before the birthday, Anna took a train to DC (from Gary, West Virginia), and showed up at The White House! FDR’s staff explained that the invitation part of the note was a scam, and settled her in with the DC police for the night and arranged a trip home for her.
Bummer, right? Well, that’s not the end of it. The story hit the press and FDR read about it the next morning. He had his staff transfer Anna to a fancy hotel and arranged for her to visit him for real (they talked about fishing), and to attend his birthday party. That’s Anna on the left and ER on the right with the knife.
Lana Turner is standing next to Anna and a bit of a flap arose between them. According to Anna, Turner was not happy with Anna stealing some of her limelight and pushed her aside for the photo. Anna told the press, “She poked me in the ribs and tried to get me to move out of the way.” She added that Lana “isn’t so pretty. She’s artificial-looking.” ER smoothed things over. Here’s a shot of Lana — you decide.
The puzzle today was roundly disliked by Rex and most of the Commentariat, who I thought went a little overboard. It included the following great clue/answer at 81D. The clue was “Stop hiding behind?” The answer was MOON. (Get it?) (Think tuchas. When you moon someone, you stop hiding your behind.)
Another good one was at 72A: “Famous drawing of a ship?” The answer was SIREN SONG. (The Siren “draws” the ship to her.)
I was glad Rex rated it “challenging” because I crashed at several points and couldn’t finish. I didn’t know BRIAN MAY (79A) — he’s the “Lead guitarist of Queen, who has a PhD in astrophysics.” (Wow!)
97A also nailed me: “Like much prized blue-and-white porcelain.” It turned out to be MING ERA, a WOE for me (what on earth?).
And 75D, “Old timer” turned out to be SAND GLASS. Ouch. (Like hourglass: Old timekeeper.) The letters I had led me to SANDAL ASS, which I like better. It seems like a good name for a 70-year old (“old timer”) who spends a lot of time in the sun. Hey Sandal Ass — pass the Fresca!
The baseball fans among you may have heard that the LA Angels beat the hapless Rockies last night 25 to 1. LA scored 13 runs in the 3rd inning and 8 more in the 4th. It was 25-0 going into the bottom of the 8th but Colorado rallied for a run. All the runs were earned: the Rockies made no errors. The third Rockie pitcher gave up 9 runs and may have felt he was drowning: His name is Noah (Davis). Glug, glug.
The 21 total runs scored in the 3rd and 4th innings tied the all-time record for runs scored in two consecutive innings — it was only done once before: By the Pirates on June 6, 1894.
Rockies’ infielder Mike Moustakas didn’t play in the game, but after watching it, he said, “Shit, I’d rather be on that team.” So he was traded to the Angels. [I made up the quote, but the trade did occur.] Here’s Mike with his pretty wife Stephanie. Start packing, Steff!
This poem from today’s Writer’s Almanac is by David Romtvedt and is called “Sunday Early Morning.” (It’s a week late for Father’s Day, but I’m in a forgiving mood.)
My daughter and I paddle red kayaks across the lake. Pulling hard, we slip easily through the water. Far from either shore, it hits me that my daughter is a young woman and suddenly everything is a metaphor for how short a time we are granted:
the red boats on the blue-black water, the russet and gold of late summer’s grasses, the empty sky. We stop and listen to the stillness. I say, “It’s Sunday, and here we are in the church of the out of doors,” then wish I’d kept quiet. That’s the trick in life— learning to leave well enough alone.
Our boats drift to where the chirring of grasshoppers reaches us from the rocky hills. A clap of thunder. I want to say something truer than I love you. I want my daughter to know that, through her, I live a life that was closed to me. I paddle up, lean out, and touch her hand. I start to speak then stop.
The poet David Romtvedt’s daughter, by coincidence, is (like mine) named Caitlin, which she spells “correctly.” He is 73, was born in Portland, OR, and grew up in ‘Zona (see pic, below). He lives, writes, and teaches in Wyoming with his wife, Margo Brown, who is a potter. When she says something funny, his response is “Stop! You’re kiln me!” [No it isn’t.][Carl! — Send more pottery puns!]
This is for those of you, who, like me, would like to read another one of his poems about his Caitlin. It’s called “Surprise Breakfast.”
One winter morning I get up early to clean the ash from the grate and find my daughter, eight, in the kitchen thumping around pretending she has a peg leg
while also breaking eggs into a bowl— separating yolks and whites, mixing oil and milk. Her hands are smooth, not from lack of labor but youth.
She’s making pancakes for me, a surprise I have accidentally ruined. “You never get up early,” she says, measuring the baking powder, beating the egg whites.
It’s true. When I wake, I roll to the side and pull the covers over my head. “It was too cold to sleep,” I say. “I thought I’d get the kitchen warm.”
Aside from the scraping of the small flat shovel on the iron grate, and the wooden spoon turning in the bowl, the room is quiet. I lift the gray ash and lay it carefully into a bucket to take outside.
“How’d you lose your leg?” I ask. “At sea. I fell overboard in a storm and a shark attacked me, but I’m fine.” She spins, a little batter flying from the spoon.
I can hear the popping of the oil in the pan. “Are you ready?” she asks, thumping to the stove. Fork in hand, I sit down, hoping that yes, I am ready, or nearly so, or one day will be.
When Owl Chatter throws its weight around, there’s no limit to what can be accomplished. Happily, our recent story excoriating the LA Dodgers for caving to right-wing pressure and dropping the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence from their Pride night lineup helped the team see the error of its ways.
After a vehement backlash from LGBTQ+ groups, their allies, and Owl Chatter, the Dodgers reversed course — re-inviting the Sisters’ LA chapter to be honored for its charity work and apologizing to the LGBTQ+ community. Bravo team!
In a brief ceremony held on the field, the Dodgers gave a Community Hero Award to the Sisters. The public-address announcer said the group supports meal programs in the LA area and cited “their outstanding service to the LBGTQ+ community.”
The team was lambasted in a statement from Archbishop José Gomez of LA, Cardinal Timothy Dolan of NY, and the president of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, Archbishop Timothy Broglio. They asked Catholics to pray on Friday “as an act of reparation for the blasphemies against our Lord we see in our culture today.”
“A professional baseball team has shockingly chosen to honor a group whose lewdness and vulgarity in mocking our Lord, His Mother, and consecrated women cannot be overstated,” the archbishops said. “This is not just offensive and painful to Christians everywhere; it is blasphemy.”
Cannot be overstated! Owl Chatter questions where the outrage was when children by the hundreds were sexually abused by the Church whose consistent response was a wide-ranging cover up. Are you kidding me? That these f*ckers still pretend to hold any moral office is chutzpah with a capital chutz.
But don’t get me started on the Church, puh-lease.
Sister Jeannine Gramick, has ministered to LGBTQ+ Catholics for more than 50 years and is a co-founder of New Ways Ministry, which advocates on their behalf. She publicly shared a letter she wrote to the Dodgers, welcoming the re-invitation. “I believe that any group that serves the community, especially those who are less fortunate or on the margins of society, should be honored.”
Let’s leave the last word to Mike Milligan of West Hills, CA, who wrote to the LA Times. He reassured the right-wing haters that there was no way the Dodgers sold their soul on Pride night. If they had, he reasoned, they would have come out of it with a much better bullpen.
Amen to that, right Mookie?
Crossworld is all in a snit over the developments in Russia. How the hell is YEVGENY PRIGOZHIN going to fit into a grid? There’s a reason why Mstislav Rostropovich never shows up — these f*cking Russians are impossible to cross clue.
Yevgeny — where is the anger coming from? Use your calming tools. Breathe. Breathe. He’s damn photogenic, though — I’ll give him that. The eyes aren’t smoky, but they’re knockout eyes. You nailed him Philly.
Maybe we should slip into some YOGA PANTS to calm down? A pair was in the puzzle today at 19A, clued with “Relative of leggings.” Girl! — Where your mat at? That floor doesn’t look very forgiving.
The puzzle had two nice 15-letter answers that spanned the grid. One was clued with “‘Elvis has left the building,’” and the answer was EVERYBODY GO HOME! The other was “Words accompanying a snap, perhaps,” and the answer was QUIT DAYDREAMING! (I’ve been there. I live there.)
Also, it was a “pangram,” which means all 26 letters of the alphabet were contained in the grid. That only happens a handful of times during the year, it seems to me. As a point of pride, I was the first commenter on Rex’s blog to point that out today. And if you’re thinking I have to dig pretty low to score a point of pride these days, I can only say — you got that right.
Poet and essayist John Ciardi was born on this date in 1916. Some of you may remember him (as I do) from his short segments on the language on NPR in the mornings, a long time ago. His 1959 book How Does a Poem Mean? is still used in high school and college English classes.
Born in Boston, Ciardi touched some Owl Chatter bases, earning his graduate degree at U. Mich, and living for many years in Metuchen, NJ. He once said: “The reader deserves an honest opinion. If he doesn’t deserve it, give it to him anyhow.”
Back to the Church, favorably, for once. The Times reported on a goodwill meeting between the Pope and a bunch of artists from various parts of the world to mark the 50th anniversary of the opening of the Vatican’s art collection, which includes works by Matisse, Van Gogh, and Marc Chagall. The Pope called on the artists to strive for social justice.
Among the invitees was the American Andres Serrano whose photo “Piss Christ” is an image of a plastic crucifix submerged in a tank full of urine. It was considered blasphemous when it debuted in 1987. Yet on Friday, as reported by the Times, “Francis blessed Mr. Serrano and gave him a cheery thumbs up.” Serrano was delighted and said he was sure the Pope knew exactly who he was. “It was a great, mischievous smile,” he said.
Owl Chatter’s Phil was one of the honored invitees, of course, and he managed to catch the Serrano moment.
According to the Times today, a federal judge in Florida, Gregory A. Presnell of Orlando, essentially called DeSantis a hateful idiot in blocking one of his ridiculous anti-gay laws: the one penalizing businesses that allow children in to see drag shows. Is that really where Florida is these days? Sheesh. Florida has also been busy restricting the discussion of personal pronouns in school — clearly a life-and-death matter — and forcing people to use certain bathrooms.
The State filed a complaint against a theater that hosted a Christmas drag show that had three kids attending with their parents. But undercover agents found no lewd behavior occurred. So there.
Hamburger Mary’s, a restaurant that hosts drag shows, sued the state claiming the law violated its right to free speech. Anybody remember that one? It’s, like, the first. The judge agreed, and noted that existing obscenity laws were sufficient to protect children from whatever the state was worried about. Of course, there’s a lot of hate out there — who knows what will happen on appeal.
Here you go, DeSantis: Public Enemy Number One.
This is from Met Diary this week, shared by Lenny Shine. It took place on Broadway and 19th.
Characters: Me, walking north in a hurry while eating a sandwich, and a woman walking south at a quick pace, also eating a sandwich. We make eye contact.
Me: “Two fried eggs on a toasted roll, no meat, no cheese.” Her: “Ham, egg, and cheese on a roll.” And on we went.
I was on a walk once and was on a long stretch where you can see the people coming towards you for quite a distance. A couple was down the way a bit walking towards me. They were in their 40’s, and had a nice look about them. Suddenly, the wife turned and punched the husband on his arm, quasi-playfully. When they got up to me, I said to the wife: Don’t hit him! And the husband said to me: Tell her!
Rex noted that PRIDE FLAGS was in the grid today, but that there was also (probably unintentionally) a British gay slur: PONCE, clued as the Puerto Rican city. Apparently, it’s a derogatory word for an effeminate male. One commenter took umbrage at Rex for “advancing the gay agenda.” But Weezie shot back: “There’s no such thing as ‘the gay agenda.’ There’s just human rights, and we’d like to have the same ones as everyone else, thanks very much.”
See you tomorrow! Thanks for putting up with the rants today.
This beautiful woman with smoky eyes is Anna Akhmatova, the poet, born near Odessa on this day in 1889. С днем рождения, Anna! Her major work was Requiem, a tragic masterpiece on Stalinist terror.
In Paris, she met the artist Modigliani, who painted more than 20 paintings of her, several of them nudes. He was passionately in love with her, and for the rest of her life, no matter where she lived or what her circumstances, she kept one of his nude portraits of her above her couch.
Folk singer Iris Dement’s album The Trackless Woods is comprised of songs the lyrics of which are poems of Akhmatova’s in translation. Here’s a short one called “Prayer.”
Give me comfortless seasons of sickness, Visitations of wrath and of wrong On my house; Lord, take child and companion, And destroy the sweet power of song.
Thus I pray at each matins, each vespers, After these many wearying days, That the storm-cloud which broods over Russia May be changed to a nimbus ablaze.
Anna’s popularity kept Stalin from arresting her, although he imprisoned her son and common-law husband. She spent 17 months in line outside the Kresty Holding Prison with thousands of wives and daughters, waiting to catch a glimpse of their loved ones and to give them bread. Her son once refused a loaf of rye from her because she forget to ask for it with seeds. [No he didn’t.]
She worked on Requiem for over 30 years, fragment by fragment. Terrified of being discovered, she had friends memorize the fragments, and then she would burn the pieces of paper. There is now a statue of Anna across from the Kresty Prison. She died in Moscow in 1966, at age 76.
Owl Chatter is blessed today with another beautiful woman, Golfer Michelle Wie West, who visited the puzzle at 42A. [I don’t know what Phil said to her that she was so miffed about for this shot — he’s generally a whiz at getting pretty smiles.]
Since she was clued with her married name (West), a Rex commenter opined that he hoped she didn’t marry Kanye West, God forbid! Well, the good news is I was able to let him know:
Michelle Wie married Jonnie West, the Director of Basketball Operations for the Golden State Warriors, — he is the son of legendary NBA player Jerry West. Wow! Stephen Curry attended the ceremony, but only gave them a shitty blender as a wedding gift. (I made up the last part of that sentence: I’m sure he was quite generous.)
Wie and West have a gorgeous little girl named Makenna Kamalei Yoona West. She’s two years old and dribbles (except when using a sippy cup).
Wie got into a flap with Rudy Giuliani, of all people. BTW, the hapless men of my generation owe Rudy a big Thank You. No matter how boorish and loutish we are, we can only look good next to Rudy, and I’m not even talking about the black dye dripping down his head.
Anyway, Giuliani told a story on Steve Bannon’s podcast. He and Rush Limbaugh attended a women’s golf tourney, and Limbaugh complained that there were too many photographers on hand because of Giuliani. So Rudy said, “It’s not me – it’s because Michelle Wie is playing. She has an unusual putting stance in which she bends over and you can see her panties — so that’s why the photographers are here — it’s not for me.”
Wie shot back:
“What this person should have remembered from that day was the fact that I shot 64 and beat every male golfer in the field leading our team to victory. I shudder thinking he was smiling to my face and complimenting my game while objectifying me and referencing my ‘panties’ behind my back all day.’’
She added: “What should be discussed is the elite skill level that women play at, not what we wear or look like. My putting stance six years ago was designed to improve my putting stats (I ended up winning the US Open that year), NOT as an invitation to look up my skirt!”
Hrummph! You tell ’em, MW!
From the new New Yorker. We’ve all been there:
One last guest today, from the puzzle — Marie OSMOND at 19A. Hi Sis!
Phil! — What the hell kind of pose is that? — It can’t be comfortable. Help her up!! — She’s 63 and has eight kids! — what the hell’s wrong with you??!! She may never walk again!
The Wellington Files 