NYS 5:19
NYT 4:33
LAT 4:27
CS 2:47
(updated at 9:30 a.m. Thursday)
Vic Fleming's New York Times crossword contains eight theme entries, all with the same clue, [Draws]. The theme answers are short, but they criss-cross in pairs in all four quadrants.
Wow, I drew a blank on the [Tony player on "NYPD Blue"], and all I could think of was Jimmy Smits and his Bobby Simone character. Eventually ESAI Morales percolated up to the surface. Knowing that there's a Clearwater, Florida, I almost put FLA for [Home of the Clearwater Mtns.], which of course are not in the very flat Sunshine State—they're in IDA., or Idaho. I don't quite feel that a HEEL is a [Sole support]; doesn't a shoe's heel support, well, the heel? I had zero idea who the [Female companion in "Doctor Who"] was—LEELA is also the name of one of the main character's in Futurama. [Board with a couple seats] isn't a corporate board—it's a SEESAW. Although any investment bank's board probably feels like a seesaw right about now—or maybe a precipitously steep corkscrew slide. Favorite answer, on account of its sheer weirdness: SPURGE, or [Poinsettia's family].
The "Themeless Thursday" puzzle in the New York Sun is by Jeffrey Harris. Medium difficulty as these things go, no? Favorite answers and clues:
Updated:
Scott Atkinson's LA Times crossword walks us through the dramatic solving process of an overconfident crossword solver:
In defense of crosswords, I must point out that the puzzles I blog about will almost never fall in the category of "stupid puzzle." There are crappy puzzles out there with mistakes, terrible fill, or bad clues that will irk even the aptest solver, but they're not the ones I blog about. If solvers find themselves grumbling, "Stupid puzzle," they're usually just mad that their skills weren't up to the challenge. But those skills are definitely amenable to improvement. (By reading my book, following the blogs, looking up unfamiliar answers and clues, and making a point of remembering those short words that are so crossword-friendly.)
In the fill, I got slowed down by [Catalogued compositions]. The word opus was already in the OCTETS clue, [Mendelssohn's Opus 20 and others], so it couldn't be OPUSES...except that it was. Having done a quick test-solve/edit of PhillySolver's puzzle that's posted at the Fiend forum, I learned that I wasn't at all attuned to catching that kind of duplication between clue and fill words. D'oh!
Patrick Blindauer's CrosSynergy crossword, "Splitting Airs," hides the word SONG (67-Across) inside each of the four otherwise disparate theme entries:
Favorite fill and clues:
September 24, 2008
Thursday, 9/25
July 10, 2008
Friday, 7/11
NYS 10:54
LAT 5:03
NYT 4:34
CHE 4:25
CS 4:10
WSJ 6:31
Ooh, Peter Gordon has deprived me of a themeless New York Sun crossword this week, and I don't even care. You'd think I'd be outraged, but Jeffrey Harris's Friday puzzle is an excellent and twisty follow-up to Patrick Blindauer's colorful theme yesterday. The "Missing Links" gimmick involves 24 answers that are one letter too short for the space allotted, requiring one square to be left blank. 
For example, [Tartan] is PLAID, with a blank square between the A and I, and in the crossing the blank square precedes LAW ([Corn or lemon follower]—tough clue for those of us unfamiliar with corn law). Wherever there's a blank square, there's one obvious letter that could be inserted to make the two incomplete words into two slightly longer words—in that particular pairing, it's a C, forming PLACID and CLAW. Those added letters (circled in my solution grid) spell out a certain phrase when read from top to bottom: CHAIN LETTERS. I'm tossing this one in my "year's best gimmick puzzles" folder. (P.S. I solved the puzzle without benefit of the Across Lite Notepad message.)
The clues are Friday Sun level, to be sure. DELLA is [Part of some Italian names]. [Director of "Wings," the first Best Picture winner] is WELLMAN (Who? This guy). [Lanolin of "U.S. Acres," e.g.] is a EWE; that was a comic strip from the "Garfield" creator, and the great Bill Watterson called it "an abomination." The first DH in baseball was RO_N Blomberg. [Figure on a certain island] is OCTANE on a gas pump in the little island at the gas station. [Pol Nol] is L_ON Nol of Cambodia. [Fall back?] is ELS_, as in more than one of the letter el. LATTE can be a [Tall order?] at a coffee shop with the ridiculous sizing system. [Chemisette makup] is LACE; I presume a chemisette is related to a chemise. [New York City's Carnegie ___] always gets me—it's DELI and not HALL. ENGEL is clued with [___ v. Vitale (landmark Supreme Court case of 1962]; this was the ruling against school prayer and not anything to do with Georgia Engel and Dick Vitale. [Contents of some chests] is _ICE. [By] is P_ER, which rather wanted to be take up all four squares as NEAR. [Italian filmmaker Petri] is ELIO, not to be confused with his fellow Italians with 4-letter E names, Ezio Pinza and Enzo Ferrari. ["Runny Babbit" author's first name] was a gimme for me—it's SHEL Silverstein, and the book features kid-friendly spoonerism-based poetry.
Meanwhile, over in the New York Times, Barry Silk's themeless crossword is in the same vein as most of his NYTs—kinda Scrabbly, with some surprising letter combos. The uncommon letter action features:
In the surprising letter combos category, the aforementioned LBJ RANCH features prominently, along with the following initials/abbreviation+word pile-ups:
Other items of note in this puzzle: ANNIE and EVITA are both clued as the Broadway musicals—[Tony winner between "A Chorus Line" and "Ain't Misbehavin'"] for the former, [Whence the song "The Lady's Got Potential"] for the latter. My wrongest turn: guessing BLOGS for the plural noun [Reads online] instead of the correct EMAGS (meh). Favorite clues: [Ones left holding the bag?] for TEAPOTS; [Stay-at-home worker?] for UMP; [It has a sticking point] for DAGGER; [Shadow] for VESTIGE; and [When German pigs fly?] for NIE (German for "never"). There are plenty of proper names in the grid: [Early Japanese P.M. Hirobumi] ITO; [Gifford's replacement as Philbin's co-host], Kelly RIPA; ARCADIA, or [Peaceful place]; a [Microwave option], the AMANA brand; MARAT [Safin who won the 2005 Australian Open]; EARLE [Wheeler, 1964-70 chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff]; ["Mecanique Celeste" astronomer], or LAPLACE; Patsy CLINE, the [Singer profiled in "Sweet Dreams," 1985]; and BOER, or [Great Trek figure]. How much do I like having a lot of names in a crossword? I would have to rate the [Heat meas.] of this puzzle pretty high, with a large KCAL or BTU amount.
Updated:
It's short shrift time again, since there are so many Friday puzzles and so little time.
Randall Hartman's CrosSynergy puzzle, "Who's Who?", plays around with homophones of names, converting four famous names into two-word phrases. The [Weasel's jolly cousin?] is a MERRY MARTEN (actress Mary Martin, who played Peter Pan way back in the day—isn't she Larry Hagman's mom?). My worst misstep was here, where I went with comedian/mammal STEVE MARTEN before I figured out how the theme operated. [Lockers?] are GYM NEIGHBORS (actor Jim Nabors, of "Golly!" fame). [Shanghai strokes?] are CHINA FILLIPS, and I love the word fillip so much (singer Chynna Phillips of Wilson Phillips, offspring of two members of The Mamas & the Papas. [A day off for the stevedores?] is a DOCK HOLIDAY (the Earps' friend Doc Holliday); I'm not sure how to clue HOLIDAY without using the word day, but I wish the constructor had found a way to do so. The fill's highlights include Hamlet's SOLILOQUY and ROCK-SOLID.
Larry Shearer's LA Times crossword uses the phrase ACT / OUT as its core. The theme entries are four phrases from which ACT has been removed. CHOIR PRICE, or [What the musical group is asking?], is modified from choir practice. [E's place?] is BEFORE THE F (fact). [Portrait of a former spouse?] is an EX LIKENESS (exact). And EVASIVE ION (action) is a [Hard-to-pin-down particle?]. I mistyped that last one as EVASISE ION, and boy, did that muck up the crossing. [Chin Ho's group] meant nothing to me, so *ISEO was mystifying (and I couldn't guess the first letter because I had no idea that [E equivalent] is F FLAT, just that it had to be A, B, C, D, F, or G FLAT. Eventually I pulled FIVE-O together, and then I grumbled because what the heck kind of pop culture clue is that? I'm astonished to learn that Hawaii Five-O ran until 1980, because I thought it was older than that. Never watched it!
Pancho Harrison constructed this week's Chronicle of Higher Education crossword, "The Wild Bunches." The theme entries toy with collective nouns, terms for "bunches" of animals. A [Bunch of angry geese?] is a CROSS BRACE. A murder of crows figures into BLUE MURDER, a [Bunch of depressed crows]. I had to Google that phrase—Blue Murder is the name of two bands, two plays, and three non-U.S. television programs. Those all seem too obscure to be the basis for a theme entry—anyone have a better lead? Pseudopod means the "false foot" extended by an amoeba, for example; PSEUDO POD is clued as [Bunch of phony dolphins?]. FOOLISH PRIDE is a [Bunch of dumb lions?]; this one's my favorite. And a [Bunch of ancient fish?] are an OLD SCHOOL. Outside of the theme, there's plenty of interesting and erudite fill and clues.
I kinda whizzed through this week's Wall Street Journal crossword by Patrick Blindauer and Tony Orbach, "One Mo. Time."—it seemed a good bit easier than the typical WSJ puzzle. The theme entries include 3-letter abbreviations for the months of the year, and are presented in chronological order:
I enjoyed the puzzle—it's fun to feel particularly adept when zipping through a crossword faster than expected—but part of me wishes the clues had been tougher so I could have spent more time with it.
November 27, 2007
Wednesday, 11/28
NYS 5:16
LAT 3:43
NYT 3:05
CS 3:01
I just wrote this in the comments over at Rex's blog, but wanted to plop it into a post here, too.
Sunday's ELEARNING entry and the occasional non-EMAIL, non-EFILE E-prefixed words, along with a mention of the word educe got me thinking about common crossword answers that start with E but can be redefined as E-prefixed words. The resulting faux crossword entries are too short to make a decent theme, so I'll share it here instead. EERIE? That's e-Erie, some sort of crazy online lake or tribe. e-Duce is Mussolini for the MySpace era. e-Ra, the virtual sun god. e-mend, fix a typo in your blog post. e-den, the room where you lounge with your internet-connected devices. e-RN, a nurse available online. Hell, why not e-DNA? (No offense to Ms. Krabappel from The Simpsons.) The dreaded e-pee—write your own clue. e-lie, not an uncommon thing on the web. e-no, a match.com rejection. Cook an epicurious.com recipe with your e-wok. Forget Abba Eban—have an e-ban on his name appearing in online crosswords. Send an e-pic in JPEG format. I could go on, but I won't.
The New York Sun puzzle is by Jeffrey Harris. The theme entries are clued with fish names that could define the phrases in the grid. An [ANGELFISH], for example, is a HOLY MACKEREL. My fave was LANCE BASS for [SPEARFISH]. The most ICKY answer here was OLEO OIL, a [Margarine ingredient] (crossing PECK AT, even though PICK AT feels like a much more natural phrase meaning [Nibble unenthusiastically]). On the up side, there's OKEY-DOKE, three answers that are slangy words for prison (STIR, PEN, COOP), ZEPHYRS, PASSWORD, and some other longish answers. Naked pandering in the clue for YOU: [The best-looking crossword solver in the world?]. Never heard of COE, ["Tyrell" novelist Booth]—here's the book's website. Youth fiction with an inner-city Bronx slant, by a woman named Coe Booth.
The New York Times puzzle was authored by Ray Fontenot. First, I must whine: Not fair to use the applet (which isn't free) and have no access while solving to what appears in print and in the Across Lite Notepad. After I finished solving the puzzle in the applet, I downloaded the Across Lite file to see that the Notepad says [DIAGONAL: What you might do eventually to make up for lost time]. Now, the clues were easy enough that I barely noticed the theme clues at all. Too many easy Down clues, I guess. The theme entries are GET LOST, FIND A GAS STATION, and BUY A MAP going across, and TAKE THE SHORTCUT along the NW-to-SW diagonal. Granted, it's tough to get fill to work with three-way cross-checking through the diagonal center of the grid, but the fill didn't excite me. I was fully prepared to grumble about "OH, ME" ([Words of woe]) until I Googled it and was reminded that it's also the title of a Meat Puppets song covered by Nirvana in their MTV Unplugged concert, which is one of my favorite albums and which is now available on DVD for the first time and I've ordered for my husband as a Christmas present. I had a soft spot for ENID, the [Sooner city], because at Absolut Trivia tonight, our biggest point-getter was knowing when Oklahoma, the Sooner State, was admitted to the union. I thought it was around 1905 (we needed to be within 5 years), and no sooner (ha!) did I mention that I thought the state recently celebrated its centennial then Tyler Hinman remembered an Oklahoma centennial crossword theme he'd solved this fall. As if Tyler needed any reason to continue doing Timothy Parker's Universal crossword online...sigh. Although we wagered (and won) 25 points for our 1907 answer and won tonight's round of trivia, alas, we lost the monthly prize by about 15 points.
Updated:
Randall Hartman's CrosSynergy puzzle, "RV Hookups," spotlights phrases whose words meet up at an R and V, like COMPUTER VIRUS. What I liked: GORE crossing the themer POPULAR VOTE; rocker JOAN crossing her last name, JETT; two more Js in HAJJ; COPENHAGEN, [Home of The Little Mermaid statue]; and [Walk, like a Pacer] for TRAVEL on the basketball court. Good to see OWEN clued with the Owen who's currently the hottest, career-wise: Clive Owen. This kind of theme, though, is a bit of a snooze. I tend to like such themes better if they include a longer batch of embedded letters or a word, or if the letters in question are Scrabbly ones like X or Z.
Robert Doll's LA Times crossword was hiding its theme from me until I reached the tie-together entry (maybe I'm just slow this morning). ARTHUR DENT from Hitchhiker's Guide, a good FIRST IMPRESSION, and evil OLD SCRATCH can all be fixed at the BODY SHOP. As can a WINGDING—and I hadn't noticed that WINGDING was part of the theme at first, probably because it and BODY SHOP are each stacked with another 8-letter entry that doesn't appear to be part of the theme...though DREAM CAR sort of ties in, I don't see how OVERTAKE would. New name I learned: ELDON [Industries, one-time maker of slot cars]; the only Eldon I know is Murphy Brown's painter. Favorite misreading of a clue: [Frozen desert chain] with a B, must be GOBI. Er, no. It's dessert, and TCBY.
November 22, 2007
Friday, 11/23
NYS 15:30
NYT 5:35
CHE 4:21
Jonesin' 4:20
LAT 4:10
CS 3:05
WSJ 7:46
We'll start out in a place that is alien to many of you: The land of cryptic crosswords. I'll list many of the answers to Fraser Simpson's post-Thanksgiving New York Sun puzzle, a cryptic crossword. If you don't know what cryptics are about and are skipping the puzzle, at least take a peek at the clues and see how I derived the answers. You never know—it just might appeal to you after all. And if you like to tackle cryptics but haven't done this one yet, unfocus your eyes as you scroll down to coverage of Friday's standard crossword puzzles.
In the Sun puzzle, I had a hard time getting my head wrapped around Simpson's cluing style. Some clues were too easy—12-Across, 15-Across, 2-Down, 8-Down, 15-Down, and 18-Down were straight-up anagrams of a word (or two words) in the clue, and 24-Across was a straight-up embedded answer. (Feel free to ask in comments if you need extra hints on any of those.) Granted, it's been a long day and I was ready to fall asleep at 7:00 while working on this puzzle, but a few other clues just weren't adding up. So I cheated and used Across Lite's "reveal current letter" a few times, and then was able to piece together the answers and see how they were derived. For 1-Across, catcher = C, to kid = to RIB, win = BAG, and electronic = E: game = CRIBBAGE. For 3-Down, a swimmer = BATHER, which hems about = RE, and a brief rest = BREATHER. Here's how the other ones shake out:
5-Across: Double definition, secure and place for baby Jesus—STABLE.
9-Across: Rub out = MURDER, answer = ANS.; both are "written about" or in reverse, making a SNARE DRUM percussion instrument.
11-Across: The fruit BERRY sounds like ("so it's said") bury, or put into the earth.
13-Across: The IRS AGENT tax collector is I + (SAG inside the musical RENT).
16-Across: Pennsylvania = PA, the word IS is inside it; PISA is a tower locale.
19-Across: LIFT = LI (Roman 51) + FT (abbrev. of foot); give someone a ride = give someone a lift.
20-Across: DWELLING (home) = D is Depot's "leader" + welling (up).
23-Across: EMERSION (coming out) = Ralph Waldo EMERSON protecting the letter I.
27-Across: THEME (topic) = THE + ME (abbrev. of Maine).
28-Across: "Better" able by anagramming it into ELAB + ORATE (to speak); ELABORATE = add details.
29-Across: ROTATE means turn. Turn = ROT + T ("turn" originally, first letter of that word) inside A & E.
30-Across: A $5 bill is a FIN, inside ice cream CONES -> CONFINES = encloses.
1-Down: COSTAR = commanding officers (COS) + a sailor (TAR).
4-Down: GARY = GRANARY (thresher's warehouse) - RAN.
6-Down: The note TI (do re mi fa so la ti) + BIAS (a bent) = TIBIAS (leg bones).
7-Down: Communist RED is uprising -> DER, inside BORING (pedestrian); BORDERING = surrounding.
10-Down: The initial of "mentioned" is M + character named ARI GOLD = flower MARIGOLD.
14-Down: AS A WHOLE (in full) = SAW (carpentry tool) inside A HOLE (a gap).
17-Down: AL OERTER = ALERTER (more aware) around O (Olympics' first letter).
21-Down: ASCENT (climb) = A + SCENT (trail).
22-Down: ANGERS = park RANGERS "after introduction," meaning without the first letter.
25-Down: PLAIN (everyday) = homophone ("in the auditorium") of carpentry tool PLANE.
26-Down: MAYO (spread at lunch) = MAY (might) + O (love in tennis).
I think it was hard for me to get into the constructor's frame of mind, since I've been spending a couple hours a week on British cryptics for the past three months. Here are a few clues I've admired in The Times Crossword Book 11. Can you figure these out?
1. Savoy, perhaps, gets cold underground? Just the opposite (5)
2. Uproar created by lout leaving a dance first (8)
3. Obsession about larva over in Winnipeg area (8)
4. Writer depicting seabirds according to Chinese dynastic principles? (6,9)
5. Quick pint, perhaps around four? (5)
Moving along to American-style crosswords:
For our post-gluttony dessert, everyone has room for Paula Gamache's New York Times crossword. There's a mini-theme with the VISITORS' DUGOUT ([Where Yankees are found at Shea Stadium]) across from BALLPARK FRANKS ([Fan fare?]). This crossword has a lot to say: "IT'S ALL GOOD" (["Everything's cool"]); "OH, GOSH" (["Jeez!"]); "LOOK, MA!"; "EVER SO SORRY" (["A thousnad pardons"]), hey, BRO ([Dude]); and "HOLA" ([Ciao, in Chile]). Can someone explain that last one to me? I though hola was hello in Spanish, and ciao is goodbye. Ah, ciao also means hello. Interrelated clues: [Waist products] for OBIS, [Waste product] for TRASH BAG, and TOSS for [Put into a (TRASH BAG)]. Tennis gets two, with the USTA ([Court org.]) and GRAND SLAMS, of which [Rod Laver won two]. The completely unrelated RURIK stands alone—that's the [Ninth-century founder of the Russian monarchy]. Never heard of him, but the Wikipedia story is interesting. Oddest clue: [What someone might win after stumping a cultural group?] for ETHNIC VOTE. I prefer the more colloquial stuff—the LOUSY ([Stinko]) [Two-timing types] are RATS, and DETOX and MAGS are both short for longer words, and there's GLOM and YADA. Stale crossword shoe width EEE gets promoted to EEE WIDTH. I learned a new word in the clue for ASIAN FUSION, [Cuisine that may be served with a chork]. Chork? Here's what it is, a chopstick/fork blend. People, it's not that hard to learn to use chopsticks. Honest. Avoid the chork.
Matt Jones's Jonesin' puzzle, "DEF Jam," has four theme answers that contain the DEF letter string. There's also a South Park character I'd never heard of, GINGER KID. And a band I wouldn't recognize, STEREOLAB (where first I entered STEREOGUM, but that's a music website, not a band.
Updated:
Dan Fisher's Wall Street Journal puzzle, "The Borrowers," has just five theme answers tied together by 104-Down, LOAN—each contains those letters in a chunk. CARMELO ANTHONY and APOLO ANTON OHNO cover sports, while movies give us actor EVERETT SLOANE, director MICHELANGELO ANTONIONI, and the toons LILO AND STITCH. The thematic lightness means there's plenty of room for good fill, with numerous chunks of 7-letter answers. MASHUP is clued as [Musical mix of two songs into one]—as in Danger Mouse's Grey Album combining music from the Beatles' White Album with vocals from Jay-Z's Black Album. Overall, I really enjoyed this puzzle's cluing and fill.
Jeffrey Harris's 11/9 Chronicle of Higher Education crossword, "On the Campaign Trail," takes political campaign terms onto the hiking trail, cluing those terms as if they pertain to a twig running for office. GRASS ROOTS, SPLINTER PARTIES, STUMP SPEECH, and the others can all be viewed from a tree's standpoint. Two unfamiliar names in the grid: PAVIA, the site of a battle in the much-beloved Italian War of 1521. (What? That's not one of your favorite wars to study?) It was [Where Charles V defeated Francis I, 1525]. The other mystery, wait-for-the-crossings name was [Bengals kicker Graham] SHAYNE. Is it Graham Shayne or Shayne Graham? The latter.
Dan Naddor's LA Times crossword really beats around THE BUSH—six other theme entries, all clued with [Beat], encircle THE BUSH. I admire the thematic density, but one of the theme entries, LIKE KEROUAC, rubs me the wrong way. I can overlook that thanks to the swath of stair-stepped Across answers in the middle—CAROUSEL atop HONOLULU atop THE BUSH atop OVERTOOK atop SEAN PENN.
Sarah Keller's CrosSynergy puzzle is called "Going Nowhere" because its four theme entries are verb phrases that sound active but don't involve making physical progress—e.g., RUN OUT OF STEAM, JUMP AT THE CHANCE.
August 25, 2007
Sunday, 8/26
NYT 11:28
BG 10:10
LAT 9:43
PI 8:04
WaPo 7:01
CS 4:18
Strange thing, that. Last night I overimbibed and still finished the Saturday Times puzzle about 15% faster than Byron Walden, my NYT applet benchmark. Today I spent 12 hours with my son, two nephews, and assorted kids (and plenty of grown-ups) at the Museum of Science and Industry, and I finished the Sunday puzzle about 25% slower than Byron. Sheesh, I probably shouldn't drive after spending that much time with young children. Clouds the noggin!
The New York Times puzzle, "Getting Ahead," is credited to two constructors, Andrew Greene and Craig Kasper, but Craig let me know that he and Andrew had two other collaborators, Todd McClary and Jeffrey Harris, who would perhaps be listed as co-constructors if the byline had enough room. This marks Andrew's debut, and if you happen to take any photos of people solving this puzzle, he'd love to get a copy. The theme of the foursome's puzzle is getting a head into the grid: The circled squares spell out facial/head features in the appropriate places. HAIR atop SCALP over the BROWS, a pair of EYES with vertical EARS just past them, a NOSE in the middle, and LIPS and CHIN holding the whole thing up. These 10 body parts are contained within long "theme entries," unrelated but for the inclusion of facial features. And look, over there at 80-Across—somebody's got a TOE dangling from an EAR. (Here are some badger toe bone earrings to complete the puzzle.)
What took me longer than usual? Well, that whole 1-Across corner fought me, for one. The [Toddler's mealtime accessory] is a BOOSTER CHAIR, but somehow having a 7-year-old means I've wiped the slate clean of toddler memories. The cross-referencing of 1-Across to 7-Across, which in turn referenced 1-Across and 61-Across, was kind of a nasty trick. (The EMBLEM of the IMAC is an APPLE.) The [Steve Martin romantic comedy] killed me, too—I thought of ALL OF ME and ROXANNE (but not THE JERK) when the 7-letter movie title needed was L.A. STORY. Ack! Cluing EBB as a noun ([Point of decline]) and sprinkling in BORAXO ([Heavy-duty hand soap]) and MOORAGE ([Dock payment]) didn't help that corner fall easily.
Favorite clues: [Crawl space?] for PUB; [Safari, e.g.] for WEB BROWSER; [Knight time?] for YORE; [___ Rose] for AXL; [Worth trying?] for ACTIONABLE, as in giving cause for legal action (here is an entertaining rant about the word being shanghaied by corporatese types); and [Subj. follower] for PRED. (short for predicate, as learned from Schoolhouse Rock's "The Tale of Mr. Morton"). Why is a KAZOO a [Skiffle instrument]? Skiffle is a "type of folk music with a jazz and blues influence, usually using homemade or improvised instruments."
Unfavorite aspects: ACIDY and RETAG are the kind of words that may appear at the end of a dictionary entry for the main word, in a fat and comprehensive dictionary, but don't get much use in the language. They're thisclose to being "roll your own" words. BLARNEYED ([Persuaded with flattery]) as a verb, also not as common as the noun blarney. That word and HEYERDAHL ([Noted explorer of Polynesia]) contain EYEs and the A of the crossing EARs. [Defense contractor whose stock symbol is the same as its name] is much less fun than Cousin Itt when it comes to ITT clues. I didn't know [Creatio ex ___ (Christian tenet)]; here's a definition of creatio ex NIHILO.
Updated:
Henry Hook's onlineBoston Globe puzzle, "Takeout Menu," strips the theme entries of a word in the clue, leaving an incomplete answer. Thus, [Thrill-seeker, out of tune?] is soldier of fortune minus tune, or SOLDIER OF FOR. Most obscure clue/answer, for me: [College basketball's Coach of the Year Award eponym] for Henry IBA, a complete unknown to me. (I wasn't following Oklahoma State hoops action during my toddler years, nor before I was born.) It's a tad surprising that this name doesn't find its way into crosswords more often. Two-thirds vowels?
Harvey Estes' themeless CrosSynergy puzzle, is packed with lots of colloquialisms, so it's a fun solve.
Gail Grabowski's syndicated LA Times puzzle, "In Reverse," adds BACK to the end of each theme entry, since BACK can change the meaning of the second part of each theme entry. I was fooled by the first theme entry, DIAMOND CUTBACK, because diamondback is also a meaningful word, but actually, the theme hinges on diamond cut and cutback. (Unless, that is, chicken back and jelly back are meaningful entities...)
Robert Doll's Washington Post crossword, "I Spy," has seven theme entries starting with spy-type words, like SECRET (INGREDIENT), UNSEEN (DANGER) and CRYPTIC (CROSSWORD). Nice theme, and a super-smooth, easy solve.
Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer offering, "A Kinder, Gentler Puzzle," puns on nine violent phrases to make them more palatable. For example, Give 'Em Hell, Harry morphs into GIVE 'EM HELP, HARRY, and barroom brawlers no longer have blood on their hands, they have spilled BUD ON THEIR HANDS.
July 25, 2007
Thursday, 7/26
NYS 4:55
NYT 4:36
LAT 3:42
CS 3:25
(updated at 8:20 a.m. Thursday)
The constructor of the Thursday New York Times puzzle, Joe Krozel, had another NYT puzzle last year, in which he included five 15-letter movie titles. This one has a phenomenal 106 theme squares! Granted, the theme entries are tied together via gimmick and not semantically, but still, 106 is a huge number! The gimmick is that every Across entry starting at the left edge of the grid is a continuation of the Across entry at the right edge. Thus, 15- and 13-Across together are ALSO / RAN, and 36- and 34-Across are ROBERT / E. LEE. The crossing fill one the left and right is not always great (e.g., OSSE and RESEE), but can you imagine the difficulty of squeezing in 13 pairs of phrasal entries that can be split this way and fit into a symmetrical layout? Good gravy. I didn't notice until after solving that the puzzle lacks the standard all-over interlock—the left and right halves are divided by that top-to-bottom snake of black squares. I liked this puzzle, but I'm sure the rule-breaking and the gimmick itself will have their detractors. I also liked the longer vertical entries in the grid's midsection(s)—LIP-SYNC, ON CREDIT (speaking of credit: I cannot hear about the Optimus Prime character from Transformers without thinking it sounds like a credit card. "Bad credit or no credit? You may qualify for Optimus Prime!"), and OPEN ARMS (alas, not clued with the Journey song).
The New York Sun Themeless Thursday puzzle by Jeffrey Harris was not too hard for a themeless. Plenty of Scrabbly fill, anchored by JOHNNY KNOXVILLE of Jackass infamy. Plenty of world geography, Africa edition: GHANA crossing RWANDAN; ASMARA, the capital of Eritrea; and the Egyptian setting for AIDA, [Memphis belle?]. Pop culture lesson: I didn't know that NENA's real name was Gabriele Kerner, but the Germanic name and "one-hit wonder" designation fairly shouted "99 Luftballons" and Nena. Geek alert: [Data representation expert?] is SPINER, as in Brent Spiner, the actor who played Data on that Star Trek spinoff. I never, ever heard of the thermodynamics term ENTHALPY, and the clue, [It's symbolized by an H], seems to serve no purpose other than to tempt solvers to think, "Could it be that easy?" and put in HYDROGEN. Including the word thermodynamic in the clue would at least serve an educational purpose. Awful clue for ROADKILL: [Animal that's tired right before dying?]. Picturing tire tracks on a dead animal fails the Sunday morning breakfast test. Then there's APRIL clued as [Roger's dead girlfriend in "Rent"]. I've never seen the show, but this synopsis tells me April committed suicide after learning she was HIV-positive from dirty needles. Cheerful! And the SKIN's clued as [Partner of bones]—"skin and bones" can also be depressing. At least the ATRIAL septal defect can be repaired surgically...
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If U have a partcular fondness for the letter U, U won't want to miss David Kahn's LA Times puzzle.
June 21, 2007
Friday, 6/22
NYS 5:15
LAT 4:44
NYT 4:43
Jonesin' 4:21
6/8 CHE 3:59
CS 3:09
WSJ 8:26
(updated at 11:30 a.m. Friday—and if you don't usually solve the Wall Street Journal puzzle, do this delicious one before you read the spoilers)
Mike Nothnagel's themeless 70-worder for the New York Times was a hoot and a half, with zippy fill and clever cluing. I'm gonna go ahead and plunk this one in my "great puzzles" folder because I thought it was awfully fun. Some themeless puzzles are dry and not so hard, or really challenging but not so entertaining; my favorite ones are chockablock with a certain comic sensibility. Take MR TOAD'S WILD RIDE, for example; my husband and I rode it about 10 years ago and it was ridiculous (not so wild, but there was retro fluorescent paint), and the name alone evokes a grin. The [Collector of bizarre facts] is RIPLEY, and I read those goofy Ripley's Believe It or Not books when I was a kid. [Yes-men] as LAP DOGS, a chess knight as a HORSE, the colloquialism of SLOW NEWS DAY, the green bottles of Rolling Rock beer (formerly brewed in LATROBE, Pennsylvania)—all these have such a playful vibe. My favorite clues and entries: [Slacker] (as in more slack) for LOOSER (not LOAFER); EZ PASS; ROTH IRAS; [One concerned with school activities?] for MARINE BIOLOGIST (nicely crossing the SAN DIEGO ZOO and its pandas); [Approve] for BLESS a few rows above a SNEEZE ([Cold evidence]); [Worn rocks] for JEWELRY; [Sweethearts] for STEADIES (better than cluing it as a verb); [Books with many cross references?] for BIBLES; [The orange variety is black] for PEKOE TEA; and SINEWS and TENSED beside each other.
Karen Tracey's Sun Weekend Warrior is a little less amusing and a little more of a Scrabbly spelling test (which I also love!). The trickiest to spell was KOSCIUSZKO, a bridge in New York named after Tadeusz Kosciuszko. I encourage you to read the Wikipedia article about him—he was a key figure in the American Revolution as well as in Polish and Lithuanian history (and hey! I'm part Polish and Lithuanian). What's more, when he was rewarded with a tidy sum of money for his service in the Continental Army, he used some of the money to buy freedom for slaves, and when he returned to Poland, he freed some serfs. Good guy, and worth the orthographic challenge. Another tricky spot in the grid was where [Forest swingers] meets [Forecasting tool]; APES just wasn't working, but AXES meshes with EXIT POLL. BAZOOKAS is a fun word because of Bazooka bubble gum, not the weaponry aspect. [Powerful pieces in ajedrez] is looking for "queens" in Spanish, ajedrez being Spanish for "chess"—REINAS. [Takes stock?] is RUSTLES, as in steals cattle. Lively entries include HIDE-A-BED, CUTTLEFISH, FEVERFEW, the Florida EVERGLADES, the character ADDISON from Grey's Anatomy, and SQUEAKER. Other favorite clues: [New Mexican?] for BEBE (Spanish for "baby"); the comic strip ZITS; [Significant one?] for OTHER; and [Present-day tennis] for the OPEN ERA. If you've never heard of the early '70s TV Western HEC Ramsey, make a mental note of it; HEC not infrequently rides to the rescue of a constructor trying to fill a tough section of the grid.
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Ha! Another really fun puzzle, this time with the humor coming from the theme. In Patrick Berry's Wall Street Journal crossword, "Vowel Play" (which is also going in my folder of appreciation), two vowels swap places in each of the 10 theme entries, and I couldn't help smiling at the results. Among my favorites: BAGGERS CAN'T BE CHOOSERS, ROMANCING THE STENO, the A-OK TREE, and NO SPRING CHECK-IN. Outside of the FANTASTIC theme, this crossword's notable for the two corners with stacked fresh 9-letter entries crossing a theme entry (because he's Patrick Berry and he can construct that way) and for the terrific clues (how many are from the constructor and how many from editor Mike Shenk? I don't know, but they're good). [This answer contains more than nine letters] clues MAIL TRUCK, which has 9 letters but may transport sacks and sacks of letters; [The wages of sin] are DAMNATION, straight up; [They might take you down] means STAIRS; [Bridge answer] is the nautical AYE; [Got in line, say] means CONGAED; [Put right?] is the right-slanted ITALICIZE; and [Chocoholic's bane] is CAROB. Other sparkly bits of fill include "YEA BIG" and the movie IT'S PAT ("What's that?") with Julia Sweeney.
Jeffrey Harris and Todd McClary's June 8 Chronicle of Higher Ed crossword, "On the Money," features the people depicted on the larger denominations of U.S. currency (the ones no longer available, as far as I know). In the fill is 19th-century detective ALLAN Pinkerton, whose grave I saw last week in Graceland Cemetery, just a few blocks away. (Many notable Chicago names are also buried in Graceland—architects Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, Daniel Burnham, and Louis Sullivan, retailer Marshall Field, early mayors, George Pullman of Pullman car fame.) Where was I? Crossword! Good to wedge a one-vowel word like SCHMALTZ into the grid, fortunately clued as [Sentimentality] rather than chicken fat. And IRKUTSK, a moderately Scrabbly geographic name.
Matt Jones's "Hi, Steaks" has three mashups of two kinds of steak, e.g., STRIP SKIRT, clued as if the mashups were actual phrases. Pluses: THE MATRIX, ROCK STAR, FOR KEEPS, and the ACTING BUG in the fill. Minuses: A GAP or two in my knowledge, particularly the [1990s MTV show that played electronica], AMP, and [Russian-born swimsuit model Sheik], IRINA. (No link!) And RRR for [Watchdog's warning] rather than GRR. How many people still have a [Colorful desktop] Mac, the IMAC, and how many people have long since traded up to a newer and more powerful non-colorful iMac or other computer by now?
Stella Daily and Bruce Venzke's CrosSynergy puzzle has the same sort of theme Mark Feldman had in his Monday Sun puzzle, with items of apparel doubling as verbs, Question: If you were inclined to violence, would you sock someone on the nose, as in one of the theme entries, or in the nose? I go for in, personally. Maybe it's a regional thing.
Jack McInturff's LA Times puzzle tacks a W onto the beginning of each theme entry.
January 29, 2007
Tuesday, 1/30
NYS 4:59
Tausig 4:33
Onion 3:34
NYT 3:33
CS 3:04
LAT 2:56
(post updated at 3 p.m. Tuesday)
First up, Oprah alert! This Thursday, February 1, Will Shortz and Merl Reagle will appear on The Oprah Winfrey Show. The episode features assorted "how'd they do that?" segments, including one on crosswords with Will and Merl. So set your TiVo, off-brand DVR, VCR, or viewing schedule (and keep an eye out for Tyler Hinman in the audience).
The main thing I want to say about Nancy Salomon's Tuesday NYT is that I have been lobbying for years for wider use of the word HUZZAH—and here Nancy includes HUZZAH, HUZZAH in a large-circulation newspaper crossword. Huzzah! I'm also fond of the letter Z, having grown up with it as one of my initials, and this puzzzzzzle has 18 of 'em. All those zeds make for spicy fill, including ABOVE ZERO (dammit, I want it to be ABOVE FREEZING—ABOVE ZERO is still too cold), KIBITZ, GRIZZLIES (are there any sports teams that are specific kinds of bears? We have the Chicago Bears and Cubs, but are there some Grizzlies in the NBA? Where are the Kodiaks? And how come there are teams called Colts and Broncos and Mustangs, but I can't think of any Horses or Ponies?). MUDVILLE is great non-Z fill, too. Anyone else lose a little time by filling in PTUI instead of PFUI?
Jeffrey Harris constructed the Sun puzzle, "Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes," which does not, alas, have a David Bowie theme. (Speaking of music popular in the '80s, among other decades, I heard the Wang Chung song "Dance Hall Days" on the radio today. Omigod, is that song awful. It pained me. Especially because I didn't hate it in the '80s.) So. The crossword. The theme entries change a word with a final K sound that's not spelled with a -CH into a homophone that is spelled with a -CH—"cross-check" becomes CROSS-CZECH; "mock turtle" is MACH TURTLE (clued as [Animal that's unusually fast for its species?]); "conks" is repurposed as [Shellfish repurposed as hats?], or the vivid image of CONCHS ON THE HEAD (which causes one to wonder if molluscoid slime would make a good hair pomade).
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Donna Levin's LA Times puzzle "shapes up" pretty nicely.
Matt Jones' Onion A.V. Club crossword, "Rap Sheet," echoes today's NYT puzzle in its Scrabbliness—the JAY-Z theme spotlights other names or phrases that contain both a J and a Z, with 15 J's and Z's in the grid. I love entries like JEEZ LOUISE, CAJOLE, and SAVEUR magazine, plus the other J-Z names. Where else but an alt-weekly would the answer to [Safe choice?] be TROJANS?
Highlights of Ben Tausig's Chicago Reader/Ink Well puzzle, "Painless Solutions," in which the OW is removed from the theme entries: [Publish or perish, e.g.] for VERB, ["Much ___ About Nothing" ("Simpsons" episode)] for APU, [Keep one's pants on?] for ABSTAIN, [Seinfeldian shorthand for control in a relationship] for HAND, [Song, once] for AIRLINE, and [Good thing to hit] for G-SPOT.
