Denzel! What a surprise — welcome to Owl Chatter — we are big fans (who isn’t?)! Didn’t think we’d see you in the puzzle, with that Z and all. And clued so simply – “Oscar winning Washington.” What did they expect us to put down: George? Loved you in Philadelphia — “Innocuous.” Ha!
So, let’s see — you’re 68 now — ouch! Born in Mt. Vernon, NY, married to actress Pauletta Pearson for 40 years this June — yikes! Renewed your vows in 1995 in South Africa, with Desmond Tutu officiating. Classy.
Four kids, including pro footballer and actor John David, Yale grad Katia, and the twins Olivia and Malcolm. Malcolm a U. Penn grad — the Red and Blue! Excellent!
Presidential Medal of Freedom last July — that must’ve been a kick. Listen, settle in — get comfortable. Can we get you a beer? You’re always welcome here at Owl Chatter.
Well, we made it back from DC. It was a very nice visit. Tipped off by Bob to a baseball-themed exhibit at the National Postal Museum, we checked it out and it was pretty neat. Lots of non-baseball stuff too — the place is enormous. Did you know they only started using stamps in 1847? And they only became mandatory in 1855. Before that a fee was collected from the person to whom an item was delivered. And there was no glue to lick on the back — you had to use a little gum to affix it to the envelope. Here’s the first stamp ever (it’s from 1840 in England). The Penny Black.
Do you guys know about the “inverted Jenny?” It may be the most famous error stamp. It was issued in May, 1918 to celebrate the start of air mail, but the plane was printed upside down on the stamp. It was a Curtiss JN-4, known as the “Jenny,” so the error was called the “inverted Jenny.”
William T. Robey, a collector, went to his local Post Office early to buy a sheet, hoping for an error, since the earlier printings were most likely to have flaws. He got lucky when he noticed the error, but when he tried to buy more, he was turned down and the Post Office immediately stopped all sales. Robey’s sheet was the only one that reached the public. The Post Office sent inspectors out to try to convince him to give it back but he refused. He came under intense pressure, but held fast, eventually selling the sheet to a dealer for $15,000, which was a whopping sum back then. It enabled him to buy a house for his family in an upscale neighborhood and, years later, he still had enough left to pay for his daughter’s wedding. Needless to say, the value has skyrocketed since then. A single stamp goes for roughly $1.5 million at auction these days. There were 100 on the sheet. The whereabouts of four of them are currently unknown. Hey, Denzel — you got one?
Denzel wasn’t the only actor in the puzzle today — Lon Cheney of the old horror films came by as well. He was a master of disguise as evidenced in The Hunchback of Notre Dame and The Phantom of the Opera. The studios didn’t know from makeup back then. He did all of his own makeup. His son was a horror movie actor too, Lon Cheney, Jr. He was the Wolfman. They were both honored with postage stamps, in a set with Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff.
Well, I was about to offer special Owl Chatter greetings from Maryland, the something state, and realized, to my shame, that I didn’t know the state nickname for Maryland. You know, like Florida is the Sunshine State and New York is the Empire State. So it turns out Maryland has much to be proud of, nickname-wise. Its primary nickname is the Old Line State and it was bestowed by George Washington, in lauding the state’s regular line troops for serving so courageously in the Revolutionary War. Bravo, Marylanders! And its secondary nickname is the Free State, relating to its abolishing slavery in its state constitution on Nov. 1, 1864, in celebration of which, under the direction of the Baltimore City Council, 500 guns were fired, bells were rung, and flags displayed.
Unrelatedly, here’s the view from my Best Western window.
Today’s puzzle was easy, after yesterday’s debacle. Actress Sela Ward was in it, not to be confused with Salma Hayek, as I usually do. Sela was an Alabama cheerleader a while back, and, of course, still roots for the Tide. She’s in the middle, below.
After hours of painstaking research on your behalf, Owl Chatter concludes that the Bama uniform has evolved over the years. This group was kind enough to pose for the Owl Chatter photographers. Hi Ladies!
117A was “Wear white to a chili cookoff, you might say,” and the answer was TEMPT FATE. It led Barbara S. to note: “The constructor must know me. Not that I’d ever be foolish enough to do such a thing, but I’m the champion spiller of staining foods on my clothing. I could rival any kid in a highchair. I remember the time in a restaurant that my cousin, who was sitting beside me, spilled red wine all over my white sweater. She felt awful but I just wanted to hug her because, for once, I hadn’t done it.”
It led me to post: On spilling wine, I forget which Rabbi said this, but the lesson was if you are the host of a Passover Seder and one of your guests accidentally spills red wine on your white tablecloth, you should “accidentally” do the same so that he or she doesn’t feel too bad. (Probably also best to avoid screaming “WHAT THE F**K, MURRAY?” if possible.)
Getting back to “tempting fate,” however, commenter Pete made my brain hurt a little with this point: “FATE, should it exist, exists on its own. You can’t tempt it. If something is alterable by someone’s actions, it isn’t inexorable, as is FATE.”
On the issue that arose yesterday: trans rights, triggered by a Harry Potter clue in the puzzle (JK Rowling has raised the ire of the trans community), Rex expounded today on why he always calls her out when that happens. Here’s what he wrote.
“A NYT article from yesterday that provides some context for my (recent, ongoing) intolerance of all anti-trans rhetoric; it details the politically popular and morally abhorrent legislative war on trans kids and their parents, a war which seeks to deny trans kids the gender-affirming care that keeps them healthy and in many cases saves their lives. Importantly, maddeningly, the medical care in question is unequivocally called for by medical science and supported by major medical associations (“When Parents Hear That Their Child ‘Is Not Normal and Should Not Exist’”). This is care that keeps trans kids from depression and suicide. The consequences of dehumanizing trans people are real, material, measurable, and widespread. Seems like people ought to be speaking out a hell of a lot more about this rather than (say) fear-mongering and lying about the alleged threat that trans women pose to “real” women. Lastly, there’s this article from The Onion, which gets to the heart of the matter better than I ever could (“It Is Journalism’s Sacred Duty To Endanger The Lives Of As Many Trans People As Possible”).”
***********
Here’s a picture of Debi Jackson, a self-described “army brat” who came to Kansas City, Mo., from Alabama — a faithful Southern Baptist, Rush Limbaugh devotee, straight-ticket Republican voter. She became a crusader for trans rights on behalf of her child. She’s fighting against anti-trans legislation in Missouri that would ban the medical treatment that saved her child.
“I’ve been ready for four years to walk up to those legislators with my hands out and say, ‘Just put the handcuffs on me now and throw me in jail,’” she said. “Because I will do anything I have to do to take care of my child.”
I read both articles Rex referenced and found them to be helpful on the topic.
I’m glad Rex, the commentariat, and my puzzling reached me under my rock to raise my awareness of the issue.
19A: “Presidential ‘pet’ that sprouts an Afro,” was CHIA OBAMA. It is a chia pet with an Obama base and you spread the little seeds on his head and a green Afro grows. The owner of the chia pet company, Joseph Pedott, is a Republican, but he came up with the idea sincerely to support Obama whom he felt entered office with an unusually full and difficult plate. But the minute it hit the stores it was viewed as racist and pulled from the shelves. Jesse Jackson approved of it, and Obama got a kick out of it when given one himself. “I’ve got green hair,” he laughed.
You can get one on eBay for about $25.
39D ruffled a lot of feathers. The clue was “Evidence derived from personal experience and observation rather than systematic research and analysis.” The answer was ANECDATA, like, from anecdotal. Some felt it was giving unscientific anecdotal evidence a scientific sheen. I think it’s just short for anecdotal evidence and have no trouble with it. But, as the commentariat likes to say — “Your mileage may vary.”
Second Sunday in a row with a whole bunch of tuchases in the grid, from the overt ASSES at 17D (clued as “Tushies”), to HIND at 38D (“Posterior”), and BUMS at 106D (clued, again, as “Tushies”). Plus a pair of hidden tuchases in GREEN AS GRASS and SMOOTH AS SILK.
Picked Nits: 34D “Big Ben hrs.” ANS: GMT
Comment: Big Ben does not reflect GMT (Greenwich Mean Time) per se. It reflects the city of London’s time. London recognizes daylight savings, therefore Big Ben’s clock changes when this occurs….thus differing from GMT by an hour. While it is true that during ‘standard’ time Ben equals GMT, it does not equal it in total.
Thank you. Noted.
Are you a fan of Kristen WIIG from SNL? Her breakthrough movie was “Bridesmaids,” though she was clued today as “Kristen of ‘Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar.’” If you’re wigging out over that seemingly extra “i” in her name, it’s because she’s of Norwegian descent and “Wiig” comes from the area of Vik in Sogn og Fjordane in Norway. Get this, her grandfather emigrated to the U.S. as a child, grew up in Rochester NY, and was a broadcaster for the Rochester Red Wings minor league baseball team. She’s married and has three-year-old twins, one of each flavor.
Here’s a nice shot of her.
One thing I enjoy in a puzzle is finding a fresh way to clue a simple “filler” word that’s appeared a zillion times. So I liked the clue for SAT today: “Succeeded at musical chairs.” I always sort of liked musical chairs. LMS, not so much. Here’s her take:
Ok. So about those musical chairs. I’m a lifelong sufferer of globophobia – a fear of balloons. But over the years I’ve come to realize that it’s a broader fear, the fear of being startled. The extreme anxiety when I know something is about to happen, I just don’t know when. The anticipation of that music stopping during musical chairs is as scary as waiting for a balloon to pop. I. DETEST. Musical. Chairs.
Owl Chatter is broadcasting from our nation’s capital tonight. Well, at least not too far into its outskirts in a Best Western in Maryland. Just a little getaway for the long weekend.
Special thanks to friend Bob for the head’s up on a terrific art exhibit in the Smithsonian:
“We Are Made of Stories: Self-Taught Artists in the Robson Family Collection”
Here is one of the featured artists: Bill Traylor was born into slavery in 1853 and worked as a sharecropper after emancipation. He only began drawing when he was 85, to document his memories. He produced close to 1,500 pieces of art, including this neat pig I photographed. He died in 1949 at the age of 96.
Watching a tight Michigan vs. Michigan State basketball game now. The game’s in Annie Arbor and the Michigan band, as a goodwill gesture in the wake of the Michigan State shootings this week, played the Michigan State fight song before the game. The ‘Rines held on for an 84-72 win. Go Blue!
I couldn’t finish the damn puzzle today! The Northeast corner did me in. I’ll spare you the details (too painful), except somehow the answer for “Mares, e.g.,” was SEAS. That’s a WOE in my book: What on earth? It turns out “mare” is the term for a lunar sea, i.e., a large dark plain on the moon. Galileo thought they were seas when he first saw them through a telescope. The plural is usually “Maria,” however, not mares. Oh, well. All’s fair on Saturday.
In this photo of the moon, the dark regions are the maria.
Remember the early James Bond films? Loved ’em! Sean Connery starred in six of them, and Goldfinger was the third (1964). Remember the hot blonde he seduced into betraying Goldfinger? He took his revenge by painting her entire body in gold so she died of “skin suffocation.” That’s how Bond explained her death in the film, but in reality, skin doesn’t breathe. The filmmakers didn’t take a chance, though, and left a small patch on the lovely lady unpainted. But painting someone completely can prevent sweating and cooling, and thus bring on heatstroke and death. Or the toxic chemicals in the gold or paint might prove fatal.
Anyway, back to that blonde, the actress was Shirley EATON, who dropped in on the puzzle today at 45D as “Shirley of ‘Goldfinger.’” This might jar your memory.
She is still living and is 86. She retired from acting way back in 1969 because she wanted to devote herself to her two children.
This note on blackbirds comes from Frank Bruni’s “For the Love of Sentences:”
In the BBC Countryfile Magazine, Nicola Chester examined an industrious specimen of nature: “Blackbirds are ostensibly a woodland bird, and can be heard loudly and furiously flinging leaves about to find insects, eggs and grubs beneath hedges and shrubs, like a teenager who has lost something on the bedroom ‘floor-drobe.’”
And this one:
In The Times, Annie Karni followed up on the visibly tense exchange between Senator Mitt Romney and Representative George Santos: “After the speech, Mr. Romney, a devout member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, told reporters that Mr. Santos is ‘a sick puppy, he shouldn’t have been there,’ in what could be construed as the Mormon equivalent of an eviscerating, curse-filled diatribe.”
Baseball’s Tim McCarver died yesterday in Memphis at age 81, after a lifetime in the sport, first as an All-Star catcher, mostly for the Cards and Phils, and then as a groundbreaking Hall of Fame announcer. He was the favorite catcher of Hall of Famers Bob Gibson and Steve Carlton. He once quipped that when he and Carlton died they’d be buried 60 feet 6 inches apart from each other. (Carlton is still living.)
McCarver was born on October 16, 1941 in Memphis. He married his high school sweetheart, Anne, on December 29, 1964. They had two daughters, Kelly and Kathy, and two grandchildren, and stayed married until death did them part.
McCarver won the World Series twice with St. Louis (’64 and ’67), and came in second in the MVP voting in 1967 to teammate Orlando Cepeda. His 10th-inning game-winning HR against the Yankees in Game 5 of the 1964 World Series was pivotal. On July 4, 1976, McCarver hit what is known as a “Grand Slam Single” when, after hitting a grand slam, he passed his teammate Garry Maddox on the base path (a no-no). McCarver later claimed to have said to the umpire, “I didn’t pass him, he lapped me.” Asked how Maddox could have done that, McCarver replied, “Sheer speed.”
He revolutionized announcing by analyzing the “why” of plays rather then just the “what.” In that fashion he brought a lot of “inside baseball” out to fans. He was criticized in Sports Illustrated (unfairly, IMO), by being described as someone who “when you ask him the time, will tell you how a watch works.” But even my Zoey can tell you the time. What’s special about that?
Here’s a famous example. With one out in the bottom of the ninth of the seventh game of the 2001 World Series, the Arizona Diamondbacks had the bases loaded with the score tied against the Yankees’ Mariano Rivera. McCarver noted that Rivera pitched inside to left-handed hitters, often giving up broken bat hits to shallow outfield, and that it was dangerous to bring the infield in in such circumstances, as the Yankees had. On the very next pitch, the Diamondbacks’ Luis Gonzalez hit a blooper just a few feet into the outfield grass behind the drawn-in infielders, winning the Series for ‘Zona. [Wow.]
I was watching a game he was announcing once and the pitcher threw over to first four or five times to keep the speedy runner close. “Speed slows down the game,” McCarver noted, channeling Yogi.
He was very close with the daunting Bob Gibson. In all the years he caught Gibson, McCarver always acceded to Gibson on what to pitch (fastball, curve, etc.). He said he was afraid to ever disagree with him. He went out to the mound once to talk with him, and Gibson just said “Get back behind the plate where you belong — the only thing you know about pitching is that you can’t hit it.”
McCarver was from Memphis and occasionally would come out with some verbiage from his past that was racist. Gibson would explain to McCarver why that was hurtful and worked with him to get him “cleaned up,” so to speak. When Martin Luther King, Jr., was killed (in Memphis, of all places), Gibson was devastated. He told McCarver to leave him alone — that as a white man McCarver could never comprehend Gibson’s feelings. But McCarver wouldn’t let go — he said he was going to stick with it until Gibson made him understand what it meant to him. (Gibson died just shy of his 85th birthday in 2020.)
Thanks for all of your honest and good work. Rest in peace McCarver.
POSTAL codes popped up today, which led Joaquin to post this funny bit:
Are you guys following the JK Rowling controversy? I’m not, except as it pops up on Rex’s blog. She’s accused of being anti-trans and is receiving a lot of grief over it. There was a huge op-ed in the NYT today that comes to her defense. For some history, I read this timeline by Yahoo on how things got this far: https://news.yahoo.com/j-k-rowlings-transphobia-controversy-102506549.html?fr=sycsrp_catchall.
Rex was not at all convinced by the defense, to say the least, and continues to complain when a Harry Potter clue sullies the puzzle. Some commenters came to JK’s defense, e.g., this post:
“Oh Rex, we know that in your heart you mean well. Have you ever contemplated that issues, like human sexuality, may not be BINARY – that perhaps not every issue is black and white, has a right or wrong – but there is an entire rainbow of hues and colors in between. Consider for example, that one may be a member of the LBGTQ++ community and still believe that individuals born with male genitals may have an unfair advantage competing against others not similarly characterized in certain sports ? Oh, Rex, you preach tolerance of the gender fluid, yet you have such little tolerance for those with opinions contrary to your own. In any event, the hatred and venom don’t become you very well.”
[Ouch!]
Later, this appeared:
“‘I’m not racist, but I think there should be arenas where Whites should not have to be exposed to or compete with Blacks. I mean seriously, why should white people have to compete in sports with Blacks? Use the same bathroom as blacks.’ That sounds racist, because it is. Change Black/White to Trans/Cis, and it’s transphobic, and that’s what JKR has said. JKR is factually transphobic, and she goes out of her way to announce that.
“My niece is trans. She was bullied mercilessly as a youth for being exceptionally effeminate, then bullied mercilessly as a young adult for being trans. She is nothing but a lovely young lady who now suffers from PTSD from all of the past abuse. Every time some bigot goes on some pointless rant about random instances where maybe, some time, some where, a cis-gendered person might be inconvenienced by a transgender person, proposed new laws putting her back in some closet, she gets triggered again, in that the rich and powerful really are out to get her.
“It’s easy to not present yourself as obviously bigoted – Just don’t say things like ‘it’s just that there are places/times/situations where [people in category x] don’t belong.’ If you can’t stop yourself from saying such things, or spending hours dreaming up places/times/situations which you think confirm your claim, that’s your problem. Just don’t say so out loud, or if you do, don’t whine when people call you bigoted. Ok JKR?”
Owl Chatter says: Why can’t we all just get along and go back to hating the Jews?
Here’s Tom Lehrer on it (he’s still alive, at 94):
Since you are all so well-educated (and all know what a logarithm is), you have heard of, and probably heard, Chopin’s MINUTE WALTZ, which was in the puzzle today at 31A. But did you know what inspired it? According to constructor Jem Burch, it was inspired by Chopin observing a dog chasing its tail. (Woof!)
In connection with the Rowling business, someone noted that Chopin had been involved in some controversy in his time as well. But I couldn’t discover what it was after a short search, and someone else posted this:
“So I was wondering in what way Frederic Chopin was flawed so I googled ‘Frederic Chopin cancelled.’ Turns out it’s the name of the international airport in Warsaw and there have been quite a few flight cancellations lately.”
Here are some neat clue/answers in the puzzle today:
57A: “Lowlife” — SLEAZEBALL
17A: “Place subject to food stains” — SHIRTFRONT.
Here’s what Rex said about that: Not sure why that last one makes me happy. There’s something apt and almost quaint about it. I just like the idea that at some point, someone was like “ugh, saying ‘front of my shirt’ is too long, too taxing, I need something shorter … [snap] … I’ve got it! We’ll move the FRONT to the back and make it one word! SHIRTFRONT!
6D: “Ennui + wealth =?” ANS: AFFLUENZA
38A: “Whom the Irish may call a gossoon” — LAD
How about 54A? — “Real-life sucker.” It’s a VAMPIRE BAT.
They are creepy little buggers. True to their name, they hunt only when it’s fully dark and they live off the blood of mammals, including humans, when one is on the menu.
Yuck, can we please go back to looking for photos of Ana de Armas?
Here — this’ll get the bad taste out of your mouth —
42A: “Some Hanukkah servings,” — LATKES!
Here are some nice-looking ones with apple sauce. BYOSC (bring your own sour cream)
Although she was born Jo Raquel Tejada in Chicago, Raquel Welch was about as far from your average Jo as you can get. She died a peaceful death in LA yesterday at age 82. Raquel’s nickname in high school was Rocky. Her dad was Bolivian and an aeronautical engineer. Her parents met when they were students at the U. of Illinois. Her cousin was the first female President of Bolivia.
This write up in Wikipedia seems on target to me: “Welch helped transform America’s feminine ideal into its current state. Her beautiful looks and eroticism made her the definitive 1960s and 1970s sex icon, replacing the blonde bombshell of the late 1950s as typified by Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield. Welch became a star in the mid-1960s and was exotic, brunette, and smolderingly sexual.”
You’ve all seen the poster of her as the cave woman in the movie “One Million Years B.C.,” so you don’t need Owl Chatter to reproduce it. But look how young, beautiful, and sexy she is here. Could you plotz?
Describing her cave woman poster, the obit in The Times said she “grabbed the spotlight by the throat with her defiant, alert-to-everything, take-no-prisoners stance and her dancer’s body. She was 26.”
She posed for Playboy, but not nude, and she would not appear nude in her films. Hugh Hefner remarked that the photos showed she could be the sexiest woman in the world without taking her clothes off. Playboy named her third on their list of the “100 Sexiest Stars of the 20th Century,” behind Monroe and Mansfield. In an omission that can only be attributed to anti-Semitism, Golda Meir did not make the list.
Apparently originally taking the position “I’m going to keep doing it until I get it right,” Welch married four times, but finally swore off the institution when the last one tanked. Her first marriage was to her high school sweetheart, James Welch, and she kept his name her whole life. They separated after only three years, but she had her two children with him. Husband #3 was Jewish: Andre Weinfeld, a French filmmaker. No doubt he fell for that shayna punim. Despite his success in cinema and marriage to the sexiest woman alive, Weinfeld’s mother never got over the disappointment of his not becoming a doctor and she died complaining to her mah jong group.
Welch’s last marriage was to Richard Palmer, owner of the Mulberry Street Pizzeria. OMG, how great is that!! But they couldn’t agree on toppings, and split up after four years. Then she decided enough with the marriages already and stayed single the last twenty years of her life.
Raquel’s kids are also good-looking. Her son Damon is 63, and went into acting for a while, but left for the quieter life of a computer guy. Her daughter Tahnee, 61, is an actress/model who appeared on the cover of Playboy and had a nude pictorial in November, 1995. She also appeared in quite a few films, including Ron Howard’s Cocoon movies. Here’s Tahnee.
So long Rocky. Thanks for making our lives a little brighter with your glamour and grace — rest in peace.
From the sublime to the unbelievable. This next story goes beyond “you can’t make this stuff up” to “WTF?” I’m just going to reproduce the first few paragraphs from yesterday’s NYT verbatim.
“On Saturday night, Wiebke Hüster, a German dance critic, was taking a break from watching a ballet program at Hanover’s main opera house when the choreographer Marco Goecke appeared in front of her.
“That morning, Ms. Hüster, 57, had published a review of Mr. Goecke’s latest work, and it wasn’t positive. Watching his new dance, ‘In the Dutch Mountains,’ audiences would feel like they’re either ‘going insane’ or ‘being killed by boredom,’ she wrote in the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, a major German newspaper.
“So it was perhaps unsurprising when Mr. Goecke, 50, the ballet director at the Hanover State Opera, confronted her, asking why she wrote so negatively about him.
“What was a surprise was that Mr. Goecke — who is known for his pet dachshund, Gustav, as well as for his work — then pulled a bag filled with dog excrement out of his pocket and rubbed the feces on Ms. Hüster’s face.”
Amirite? WTF Marco!
Hüster filed charges with the police, and Goecke, who has been a star in Europe for over a decade and has been called the most important ballet choreographer in Germany, was suspended by the Hanover State Opera.
Ms. Hüster stated she will attend a ballet performance again as soon as she can. “I’m a professional,” she said. “I will go back to my work.” But, she added, she would not see Mr. Goecke’s work again. Yup, that’s probably for the best.
Here he is, without Gustav (woof, woof), dancing his way down the Opera House stairs. The caption under the photo quotes him as saying “I’m still not free of this anger.” Apparently, he’s not feeling any morse, let alone remorse.
Have any of you heard of Avicii? I haven’t. He was an answer in the puzzle today, clued with “‘Levels’ D.J., 2011.” Pretty obscure for a Thursday, it seemed to me. Born Tim Bergling in Sweden, he was very big in electronic music internationally. Once he became successful, he was active philanthropically in anti-hunger campaigns. Sadly, he killed himself at the age of 28 in Oman.
The puzzle today was brilliant, and was a nod to Eagles’ fans since the theme was “Take an L,” as in loss. In five places in the grid L’s were formed by black squares and were cleverly used in the construction of answers. Even curmudgeon Rex was impressed. Kudos Kevin Patterson.
“Multihued bird” at 52A was MACAW. Here’s a cute couple. They remind me a little of our Welly and Wilma.
I checked An Exaltation of Larks to see what a group of macaws is called but there is no entry. For parrots, I found a “company” of parrots, and a “prattle” of parrots. How about a “variegation” of macaws?
There are nineteen species of macaws, the majority of which are endangered in the wild, and several of which are extinct. The greatest dangers they face are deforestation and illegal trapping. Get this — they are zygodactyl, i.e., of their four toes, the first and fourth point backwards. In North America they are native only to Mexico, although they sometimes appear in the U.S. in crossword puzzles.
Clue/answer of the day: “Ones who don’t want to hear that you’re laying down on the job?” ANS: GRAMMAR POLICE. (Get it?)
Second best: “Word that retains its meaning when its third letter is removed.” ANS: ROTUND.
For “Nonbasic characteristic, the answer was LOW PH. Joe Dipinto noted: “Halph a lowph is better than naan.” Ha!
I was today old when I learned that the French capitalize much less than we do. For example, they do not capitalize months or days of the week. They also do not capitalize religions. So in French “Two Jews and a Muslim walked into a bar on Monday, July 8th,” would be (in French) “Two jews and a muslim walked into a bar on monday, july 8th.”
How come I didn’t know this? When I was in high school, I took high school French for two years in high school.
If you can stand even more beauty, Owl Chatter’s favorite palindromic actress ANA de Armas was in the puzzle again yesterday. Nice to see you, Ms. A. Always welcome.
In a nod to Black History Month, yesterday’s puzzle honored several African-Americans, including U.S. Army Private GEORGE WATSON, to whom Bill Clinton awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously on Jan. 13, 1997. It’s the nation’s highest military decoration for valor. On March 8, 1943, near Porlock Harbor, New Guinea, Watson gave his life rescuing fellow soldiers from drowning. He was two weeks shy of his 29th birthday. Watson was a graduate of Colorado State University, and was married with one daughter.
Watson’s ship was attacked by nine Japanese bombers. With fires raging, the order was given to abandon ship. Once he was in the water, instead of saving himself, Watson assisted soldiers who could not swim get into life rafts. Exhausted by his efforts, he was dragged down by the suction of the sinking ship. On June 13, 1943, he was awarded posthumously the Army’s second-highest medal for valor, the Distinguished Service Cross for extraordinary heroism. He was the first Black American serviceman in World War II to receive this decoration.
By Ted Kooser, from Winter Morning Walks
A cold wind out of the west all night. Where our row of Norwegian pines lines the road, there were lots of joined pairs of needles this morning, blown over the grass and onto the shoulder, every pair an elongated V, coated with frost, and each pointing east southeast, where, sure enough, the sun was rising.
I learned a new word from a puzzle clue today, and it inspired me to write this limerick:
A lumberjack’s quota to fill Left him achy and feeling quite ill But on Valentine’s Day Lady Luck came his way In the guise of a cute lumberjill.
Back in 1986, the Poet Laureate of Owl Chatter, Ted Kooser, stole an idea from a family friend and wrote a poem and mailed it on Valentine’s Day to about fifty women, many of them wives of his friends. (His own wife tolerated this foolishness, he said.) It became an annual tradition, and the list grew and grew. He printed them on standard-sized postcards and if the timing worked out he sent them up to Valentine, Nebraska, to be postmarked from there. He added a small red heart to each card.
He did poetry readings around the country over the years, and took the names and addresses of women in the audience who wanted to get on the list. By 2007, the list had grown to 2,600 women, and the printing and postage costs grew prohibitive. So he included a note that year saying that it would be his last.
The poems are collected in a very attractive volume called “Valentines.” They are accompanied by illustrations by Robert Hanna, who added this “Illustrator’s note.”
“The illustrations created to accompany the poems in this book are not meant to represent the poems themselves, but rather give a glimpse of the world where they were written. The art is meant to reflect the aesthetic temper of Ted’s writing space–which includes his home, his work shed, and the rolling landscape of Nebraska’s Bohemian Alps–and reveal the heartland that provides his inspiration.”
Here is the poem that started things off, the one he wrote and sent in 1986, called “Pocket Poem.”
If this comes creased and creased again and soiled as if I’d opened it a thousand times to see if what I’d written here was right, it’s all because I looked too long for you to put it in your pocket. Midnight says the little gifts of loneliness come wrapped by nervous fingers. What I wanted this to say was that I want to be so close that when you find it, it is warm from me.
In the NYT today, Bret Stephens referenced the obit of Holocaust survivor Solly Perel featured in Owl Chatter yesterday. He homed in on a particular make-or-break moment Perel faced, which we left out of our discussion. When confronted with having to deny his Judaism to the Nazis, he was faced with conflicting messages from his parents. His dad told him: “Always remain a Jew.” His mom told him, “You must live.” (Thanks, Mom!)
Stephens added: It seems like contradictory advice, since he had to pretend to be a Nazi in order to survive. But from a Jewish perspective, the advice was actually the same. From Deuteronomy: “I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse — therefore choose life.”
I lifted this verbatim from The Writer’s Almanac today: Chaucer gets credit for establishing St. Valentine’s Day as a romantic occasion, when in the 14th-century he wrote in The Parlement of Foules of a spring landscape “on seynt Valentynes day” where the goddess Nature watched as every kind of bird came before her to choose and seduce their mates.
Since that includes owls, here is a message from Welly (on the left) and his bride Wilma, the owls behind Owl Chatter:
Happy Valentine’s Day! Thanks for listening to all of our nonsense!! This is Post #120 for Owl Chatter and it’s been a real hoot! We love you all very much!! And a special shout out to our special friend and Valentine Jenny, our honorary mom — we love you Jenny!
Robert Hanna’s mention of the Bohemian Alps of Nebraska got me wondering, What the hell are they? Who associates the Alps with Nebraska? So it turns out it is a region in Southeastern Nebraska, 25 miles north of Lincoln, and 25 miles west of Omaha, marked by rolling hills that reminded the Czech immigrants who settled in the area of their homeland. The settlements have great names: Abie, Bruno, Brainard, Dwight, Garland, Linwood, Loma, Malmo, Morse Bluff, Prague, Tuohy, Valparaiso, and Weston. Here’s a shot of downtown Brainard: Go Tigers!
The puzzle’s musical guest today is the British band THE CURE, clued with “‘Friday I’m in Love’ band, 1992.” Amazingly, The Cure has been in existence since 1978, although only songwriter, guitarist, and lead vocalist Robert Smith has been in it the entire time. The founding members were friends in middle school. The band was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2019. Here’s a wild version of the song from the clue. Give it 45 seconds and you’ll be hooked. (Is that Oliver Hardy in there?) Turn up your hearing aids!
Monday, you can hold your head Tuesday, Wednesday, stay in bed On Thursday, watch the walls instead It’s Friday, I’m in love
How about 29D for the ladies out there? “Dudes showing off duds” — MALE MODELS. Let’s dig one up to go with our lumberjill.
Yikes! Remind me never to google that again — I feel so out of shape now. Ouch.
The clue for 56A was “One who’s barely existing?,” and, of course, the answer was NUDIST. So I googled “nudist jokes” to see what I’d come up with. Did you hear someone punched a hole in the nudist colony fence? The police are looking into it.
But I did run into this oldie I had forgotten. It’s about centipedes, not nudists:
A man walks into a pet shop and says to the owner. “Ok I want to buy a pet, but I don’t want a boring normal pet, no cats, or dogs or budgies. I want something different.” [Budgies? Seriously?]
The pet shop owner informs him that he has a talking centipede. “Really?” says the man “How much?” The owner says $50. Happy with the unusual offering the man pays the money and takes his new pet home.
On getting home he lays the match box with the centipede in it on the table, opens it and says, “Hello Mr. Centipede, fancy going to the pub for a few drinks?” The centipede says nothing.
Figuring it must be tired from the journey he decides to leave it for a bit and try again later. A bit later he opens the match box and says “Hello Mr. Centipede, fancy going to the pub for a few drinks?” The centipede again says nothing.
Starting to get suspicious the man decides he will give it one more try a bit later, and if the centipede still doesn’t talk he will take it back to the shop for a refund. After a while the man opens the match box and says “Hello Mr. centipede, fancy going to the pub for a few drinks?” And the centipede says: “I heard you the first time you moron! I’m putting my shoes on!”
Here’s a Valentine’s Day observation on the difference between men and women:
If it came down to a choice between catching a fly ball or saving the life of an infant, a woman would go for the baby without even considering if there are men on base.
Valentine’s Day is a little less fervent when you get up in years. Remember these days?
I said to my wife Linda, Remember when sex was so fresh and exciting? And she said, Yeah, but all those men meant nothing to me.
Mazel Tov to the Super Bowl winners! Nice job guys! I’ll be honest, it didn’t look too good at halftime!
Owl Chatter was able to get into the winning locker room right after the game for this exclusive celebration footage. It’s a little wild!
Hi CRAIG Ferguson! Welcome to the puzzle and owl chatter! I’m not too familiar with your work, but this quote of yours is spot on:
“Alcohol ruined me financially and morally, broke my heart and the hearts of too many others. Even though it did this to me and it almost killed me and I haven’t touched a drop of it in seventeen years, sometimes I wonder if I could get away with drinking some now. I totally subscribe to the notion that alcoholism is a mental illness because thinking like that is clearly insane.”
Craig is Scottish, born in Glasgow on May 17, 1962. He was the host of The Late Late Show on CBS from ’05 to ’14.
If the army ever needs to form a brigade of nitpickers, Crossworld is at the ready. The clue at 21D was “Sounds during a dental exam,” and the answer was AHS. So an anonymous commenter carped: I’ve never had a dentist ask me to say “ah.” Doctors do it all the time to check for swelling or discoloration in your mouth and throat. But dentists don’t need “ahs” to determine if there’s a problem with teeth or gums.
But my favorite nit picked today was on the clue at 27D: “Alternative to a Ho Ho.” The answer was TWINKIE. Commenter Son Volt conceded that a Twinkie is “technically” an alternative, but it’s not chocolate. So Yodels are a more fitting alternative. Duly noted.
Here are some Ho Hos.
If you saw the film Europa, Europa, which came out in the U.S. in 1991 and won the Golden Globe for best foreign-language film, you know the story of Solomon “Solly” Perel, who died on Feb. 2, at age 97. I remember seeing it, but only vaguely. Perel himself attended the film’s premiere in Lodz, Poland.
Many Jews hid their Jewish identity to escape the Nazis, but Perel was unique in that he actually went so far as to join the Hitler Youth. He fled the Nazis with his brother from Lodz, Poland, and then fled from an orphanage in what is now Belarus. When he was captured in an open field near Minsk, he told the Germans he was an ethnic German and they believed him. He was welcomed into their unit and later sent to join the Hitler Youth. He recounted being relieved to discover the showers were in separate stalls so no one would notice he was circumcised. He said he wasn’t suspected because it was impossible to think a Jewish boy could penetrate so deeply into Nazi society.
He received a holiday pass for Christmas in 1943 and took a train back to Lodz in his Nazi uniform and walked the streets of the ghetto searching without success for his parents and sister. He saw men rolling carts piled with Jewish corpses. He never saw his parents or sister again, but his two brothers survived the war, and he was reunited with them.
Eerily, the Nazi indoctrination had a deep effect on him. “My mental faculties were so befogged that no ray of reality could penetrate. I felt just like one of them.” Towards the war’s end, his unit was captured by the Americans and he ended his charade. He eventually emigrated to Palestine and fought in the Israeli war of independence and settled in Israel, where he managed a zipper factory in civilian life. He gave lectures about his experiences, stressing the dangers of racism.
Perel died in his home near Tel Aviv, survived by a son and three grandchildren. Another son died in 2019. Perel said he never fully purged the Nazi identity that he adopted. “I love him [his Nazi self] because he saved my life.”
We’re honored to welcome Sir Elton John, in the grid today at 65A, with a clue that notes his AIDS charity work. I remember when his first album was released. We were at Brandeis. It feels like yesterday.
Here he is, performing his beautiful paean to Marilyn Monroe.
Here’s a poem by Kooser to send us on our way today. It’s from Winter Morning Walks.
Just as a dancer, turning and turning, may fill the dusty light with the soft swirl of her flying skirts, our weeping willow—- now old and broken, creaking in the breeze—- turns slowly, slowly in the winter sun, sweeping the rusty roof of the barn with the pale blue lacework of her shadow.
Happy Super Sunday, everybody! I hope it’s a good game. I also hope not to make a MINIPIG of myself from the snacking (fat chance of that). MINIPIG was an answer in the puzzle today (“Little squealer”) and it started a ruckus over whether they exist or not. But a quick check shows that they do exist: miniature or pygmy pigs. Adults weigh between 70 and 300 pounds and are described as follows: “They have a pot belly, a swayed back, a chubby figure, a rounded head, a short snout, short legs, a short neck, and a tail with thick hair at the end.” You probably had a high school teacher like that, no? Here’s a cute one.
The name of the puzzle was “Cheap Thrills” and it had a whole bunch of neat tricks having to do with “economizing.” For example, there were no squares in two of the corners, to represent “Cutting corners.” And the word SINGLE had to be entered as SSIINNGGLLEE to represent “Stretching a buck.” In BICENTENTIAL CENTER, the two times “cent” appears it gets squeezed into one square to represent “Pinching pennies.”
But the best of all was a tuchas extravaganza right smack dab in the center of the grid! I’ll try to replicate it.
I
N
C
A
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A L B U M A S S E T
B
U
T
T
E
If you look closely, you will see CAN, BUM, ASS, and BUTT, all meeting in the center square. It represents “Making ends meet.” (“Economizing,” right?) Yes, this crapload of tuchases is in the staid NY Times. As Bob Dylan noted long ago: “The Times they are a changin’.” At least the puzzle standards are. There used to be a “breakfast test,” under which the puzzle should not contain any words that might discomfort a reader sitting down with it over his or her breakfast and coffee. I can’t imagine this buttfest would pass. But I’m not complaining. To the contrary, I love a good tuchas in my puzzles. Can’t get enough of ’em.
The clue at 11D was “Tranquil discipline,” and the answer was YOGISM. Many complained that it should just be YOGA, and one fellow said the clue should have been “It gets late early out here, e.g.,” — i.e. a YOGI-ISM. I added one of my favorites of Yogi’s — “I’d give my right arm to be ambidextrous.”
The clue at 47A was “Offering from Dr. Mom, in brief,” and it was TLC. And 64A was “Scrapbooker’s project,” for ALBUM. It led LMS to post:
“The clue for TLC and ALBUM made me feel mildly regretful for the kind of mom I was. If one of my kids came in crying from some fall, I’d look at the injured area, tell them they were fine, and send’em back out. No frantic assembling of ice, no Neosporin, no TLC. And I did briefly try my hand at scrapbooking but lost interest and patience after about 2 pages. I remember visiting a high school friend who had shelves of gorgeous scrapbooks. Gorgeous. I bet she had oodles of ready-to-go ice packs and Neosporin, too. On the way home, I did a frantic mental inventory of anything right I was doing as a mom: 1. I’d take them out in the woods after a rain to turn over rocks and logs looking for interesting bugs. 2. I packed them epic April Fool’s Day lunches. 3. I would have them point to the area of whatever to ask exactly where they wanted me to squirt the whipped cream, and then I’d start at that spot and continue squirting right up the length of their arm.
That’s all I could come up with. AH ME.”
Hey, let’s class up the joint a little with some art. Jan van EYCK was in the puzzle today, the Flemish painter, born in 1390. The Ghent Altarpiece (below) is attributed to Jan and his brother Hubert and marks the transition from Middle Age to Renaissance art. An inscription that has been lost stated that it was started by Hubert, “greater than anyone” in art, and completed by Jan, identified as “second best.” (I’m not kidding: they sound like a hoot.)
Jan is considered by some to have invented oil painting; he at least was an early and significant user of it.
He was a punster, as noted in this Wikipedia entry: “Ten of his paintings are dated and signed with a variation of his motto ALS ICH KAN (As I (Eyck) can), a pun on his name, which he typically painted in Greek characters.”
LOL, van Eyck!
The altarpiece was seized by Hitler during the war and suffered some damage while stored in the Austrian salt mines. But it has been restored.
A great way to see his work is to click on: closertovaneyck. (That was shared by a commenter, and owl chatter concurs.)
Let’s also welcome “Civil rights icon, NANNIE Helen Burroughs.” Born May 2, 1879 in Virginia, she was an educator and orator who fought for civil rights and women’s rights until her death in 1961. She founded the National Training School for Women and Girls, in Washington DC, renamed in 1964 as the Nannie Helen Burroughs School. Born to former slaves who prospered in freedom, Burroughs was devoted to her work and never married. The Library of Congress manuscript division holds 110,000 items of hers.
On a lighter note, here’s LMS on “economizing:”
“It’s interesting how we all have our ways of cutting back. Mom will eat pretty much any kind of leftover in the fridge, regardless of its age or state. (Once she burned the crap out of some Eggo waffles but insisted on eating them anyway in the waste-not-want-not spirit. She insisted they tasted fine.) For me, I buy these little ROC retinol capsules – you’re supposed to use one capsule every night all over your face, but they’re too expensive. So I cut a little opening to squeeze out a tiny amount for around my eyes. So one capsule lasts several days.”
That’s all fine and well. But it was this video she posted of her mom with the Eggos that literally had me roaring in laughter. You must give it a few (32) seconds! Turn the sound up — there is no talking, but the chomping noises are good.
Vermont Lizzie tells me there’s a small brunch in honor of Susan’s memory up there today, so here’s a small Susan and Robert story I’ve always enjoyed. I was up for a visit and Robert offered me an orange, “A Colorado orange,” he said, and he and Susan both chuckled. I did not chuckle because I had no idea what was going on, so they explained.
Susan was going out to do some grocery shopping a few days before, and she asked Robert if there was anything special she should get. He said, “Yes, get some more oranges — they’re delicious. And make sure they are Colorado oranges, I checked to see what they are.” Susan said OK, and went out to the car. But she came back a moment later and said “I thought oranges only come from Florida or California.” And Bob said, “Well, I checked, but let’s check again.” So he rooted through the trash to find the orange peel and dug it out. It said on it: Color added.
Ever since then, I refer to all oranges as Colorado oranges. And that also goes into the “makes life worth living” file, along with Zoey’s smile.
Let’s open with a poem today. It’s from tomorrow’s Met Diary, and it’s by Danny Klecko.
45 Minutes in Central Park
Between the hours of 9 and 10 On a bench adjacent to mine Sat a man who was not put together A man in the grip of some battle Big drops of rain began to fall Raindrops by the tablespoon The man refused to move A woman with a terrier Stopped as if she knew him Offering dry comfort Underneath her umbrella The man began to cry What determines luck?, who makes up the rules? Why is value attached to everything but me? The woman sat by his side Put her arm around his shoulder In silence, the umbrella twirled Until she offered explanation Everything will be fine, she said Just not today
Today’s puzzle was by Sam Ezersky whom some of you may know as the dude who runs the Spelling Bee in the daily NYT online. (I don’t do that one; I only do Sunday’s.) Anyway, so it was neat to see his clue at 2D: “Unlikely trait for a beekeeper” (my italics). The answer was APIPHOBIA.
Right next to it at 3D, we got a sweet treat. “Snickers alternative” was MR. GOODBAR. And if your tastes run more to the hematologic, 1A was VAMPIRES, clued by “Those out for blood?” Rounding out that excellent corner, 1D was “Emotional assessment of one’s surroundings, in lingo,” with the answer VIBE CHECK. I can see using that phrase. Some party’s going on that you feel iffy about, so you send in your buddy to do a vibe check before committing.
Do you know what a pipit looks like? I sure don’t. I don’t even know what a pipit is. The clue was “Pipit lookalikes,” at 66A, and the answer was SKYLARKS. Here’s one!
According to Wikipedia, the female skylark builds an open nest in a shallow depression on open ground well away from trees, bushes and hedges. She lays three to five eggs which she incubates for around 11 days. The chicks are fed by both parents but leave the nest after eight to ten days. They scatter and hide in the vegetation but continue to be fed by the parents until they can fly at 18 to 20 days of age. Unless they try to make a living in the arts, in which case they are fed by the parents until their thirties. The skylark is known for the song of the male, which is delivered in hovering flight from heights of 50 to 100 meters, when the singing bird may appear as just a dot in the sky from the ground.
The toughest clue for me, was at 32A: “K, for Kay.” WTF? It turns out to be referring to Kay Jewelers. And for a jeweler, K stands for KARAT, which was the answer.
Hands up if you would say “Stiletto feature,” four letters, starting with H is “heel.” Well, it was HAFT, stiletto referring to the thin knife, as opposed to the sexy shoe most of us lunged for. Here’s a shot of the knife, so you can notice the haft (handle). Followed by one of my tax students, in her stiletto heels.
Let’s take a puzzle break. Wanna hear a joke? So these two Jewish guys are walking down the street and they come to a church with a sign out front that says: “Come in, convert, and we’ll pay you $50.” So one of them says, “I’m going to check it out; wait here.” He goes in and after about 45 minutes he comes back out. His friend says, “Well, what happened?,” and he says, “I converted.” His friend says, “Wow. Really?” He says “Yeah.” His friend says, “Did you get the money?” And he says, “Is that all you people care about?”
[I heard that joke told by someone on a panel of Jewish comedians discussing the old Sid Caesar Show. The subject of production costs came up and one of them said it cost $10,000 to produce an episode. And another one said, “For you, $9,500.”]
Sadly, a special Owl Chatter farewell to Ron Labinski, who died on New Year’s Day, at age 85, in Prairie Village, Kansas. If you’ve ever sat in a wonderful ballpark and couldn’t quite understand why you felt so happy, it may have been Labinski’s work. The Times described him as a “visionary” architect, and he specialized in ballpark design.
Labinski designed Orioles Park at Camden Yards, with that gorgeous warehouse wall beyond the right field fence. I’ve been down there for games 3 or 4 times. If you look around you notice that everyone is happy just to be there. It’s magical. The game is secondary. It has all the charm the new Yankee Stadium lacks. I’ve been there once and plan never to return. Labinski also designed Oracle Park in SF. Here’s a shot from Baltimore.
The Wellington Files 