Thursday, 6/25

LAT 4:14
NYT 3:57
CS 8:54 (J―paper)
Tausig untimed

I dipped into Frank Longo's Vowelless Crosswords again tonight. Puzzle #11 took easily twice as long as those that preceded it. Anyone else tracking how long these puzzles are taking them? I had a dickens of a time figuring out a bunch of answers. And I was sleepy, which surely wasn't helping matters.

Bill Zais's New York Times crossword

Wow, this is a cool theme—unlike any I've seen before. The five theme vertical entries are actually much longer than what shows up in the grid, as the clue number would be the beginning of the answer:

• 3D. [<--- Plastered] clues three SHEETS TO THE WIND.
• 5D. [<--- Gambling game] is five CARD STUD.
• 7D. [<--- Sherlock Holmes novel, with "The"] clues The Seven PERCENT SOLUTION.
  
• 20D. [<--- One starting a career, perhaps] is a twenty-SOMETHING.
• 40D. [<--- Work period] is the forty-HOUR WEEK.

Let's walk through some clues and answers, shall we? 13A [Some arts and crafts] clues POTTERY, but I had trouble finding that thanks to trying ONE A.M. instead of TWO A.M. for the [Wee hour]. ["Follow me"] clues "DO AS I DO," which I can't help noticing is do-si-do with an A inserted into it. Our [Apple pie companion] is not ice cream, but MOM. (C'est très américain.) DIPTYCH, or [Hinged pair of pictures], rhymes nicely with dipstick. [Start of a Chinese game] is the dangling fragment MAH, as in mah-jongg. HAWAII is [Where "wikiwiki" means "to hurry"]. [Philemon, e.g.] is an EPISTLE in the Bible; any connection to the Philemon of Greek mythology? Or make that GRECIAN—[Like the Trojan horse]. For [Race before a race], I could only think of prelims in track and field—whoops, that's a PRIMARY election we want here.

Crosswordese classics! An [Archaeological find] is a STELE. An ARETE is a [Craggy crest]. That [Crumb] of food is my personal favorite, an ORT.

The constructor had little wiggle room for moving the theme entries around—he needed a symmetrical batch of theme entries that began with specific numbers. The upshot is that the innovative theme is swimming in clunky little answers. There are abbreviations (ASSOC, SRTA, STE, NNE, ORD, STA, SYSTS, OED, OTB, OTS, CPI), prefixes and suffixes (ETTES, ULE, TRI), and fragments (MAH, HOO, HEE) up the wazoo.

How did the balance work for you? A vexing slog, an enticing challenge? A "wow" or a "meh"? I'm clocking in at 75% wow, 25% meh, so I liked it.

Updated Thursday morning:

Rich Norris's CrosSynergy/Washington Post puzzle, "Two-Car Garage―Janie's review

Thank goodness for television and print ads extolling the virtues of various makes of automobiles. Otherwise I'd probably have spent twice as much time solving this puzzle which felt at times like a [Knock-down...] DRAG-OUT. But a fair and fun one? Oh, yes, saith the non-car-owning city-dweller. And how does this puzzle work? Each theme-phrase is comprised of the names of two car-models. The joy is that each sounds like it could be an in-the-language phrase.

• 17A. NAVIGATOR LEGACY [Inheritance from one on a ship's bridge?]. This is a Lincoln-Subaru combo.
• 24A. RABBIT ACCORD [Treaty with Bugs?]. The pair, VW-Honda; the fill―funny!
• 42A. MUSTANG QUEST [Search for a horse?]. Here we have a Ford-Nissan duo.
• 55A. SUBURBAN ECLIPSE [Astronomical phenomenon seen outside the city?]. And thank you, Chevrolet-Mitsubishi.

D'ya suppose Detroit will venture into some of these pairings? D'ya think it'd help?... (Btw, if today's theme seemed familiar, Rich published a similar CS puzzle on 2/25/03.)

Making its bow today in a major puzzle is SLUGGISH [Lacking energy]. This word would also describe my time (okay, my times...). What took me so long? Model-names aside, one reason I didn't speed right through was because there was some fill I simply didn't know. ASGARD? [Where Valhalla is, in myth]. D'oh. And I recently spent some 17 hours at the Met soaking in The Ring Cycle...

CS-debut MOP-UPS for [Post-invasion military procedures]? Got me again. The crossing didn't help either, because I balked with that [Skewered meal]: KABOB (yes) or kabab (no)? Something I wouldn't care for on either, thank-you-very-much, is EMU, clued in a way that left me clueless―[Low-fat meat choice]. Well, now we know.

[Lose on purpose] took me quite a while to sort out. It's THROW―as in the Black Sox Scandal of 1919 and "Say it ain't so, Joe." I had the same parsing/sense problem with [Put the tiara on] for CROWN. This kind of cluing makes for a more challenging puzzle and I enjoy that. I REPEAT, this is a good thing.

So, those are some of low-lights in my solving process. Highlights? We got those, too. There's the presence of VOICE BOX and ELLA [First name in scat] Fitzgerald―who had one of the great ones, whether performing a jazz standard or BE-BOP, a [Style that evolved from swing]. There's Italy's scenic TUSCANY clued as [Chianti's region]; if you choose to order some north of the Alps in Paris, you'll have to summon the GARÇON. There's POISE [Grace under fire]; FANATIC, the [Wild-eyed type] who lacks it; and RAJA, humorously clued as [Big Indian].

Speaking of humor, I was seriously amused by the [Swine swill] [Antacid dose...] sequence. Nothin' better than a BROMO after too much SLOP, right?

We're also lookin' at a pangram today, so here's a special thank you to JINX and KISSY (with its [___-face...] clue) and EQUAL and AVION and ZEST.

Finally, we get a lot in the way of bonus fill. Should any one of the theme-fill vehicles break down, the garage also holds ATVS, a LORRY, a MIATA and, hey―even a [Rolls's partner] ROYCE. Not too shabby. I'll also confess, I thought there might be yet another theme-realted answer in [Got ready to drive], but no. That's our golf pal: TEED.

John Lampkin's Los Angeles Times crossword

This seven-piece theme takes up a good bit of real estate in the grid. Given that it launches at 1-Across with a clue you can't get without first knowing some of the long answers, and given that the second long theme answer is not easy, and given the inclusion of two pairs of cross-referenced clues in the fill, this puzzle wasn't easy. There were also some unfamiliar answers lurking to further turn the puzzle into a veritable TAR PIT ([La Brea attraction]). Alrighty, here's the theme:

• 1A. [With 71-Across, extracurricular group concerned with the starts of the answers to starred clues] clues the two-part SWIM / TEAM.
  
• 18A. The SIDEWINDER is a [Dangerous snake of the Southwest]. You can swim sidestroke, and the beginning of each theme answer is also a swimming stroke.
  
• 24A. [Fortification about four feet high] clues the word BREASTWORK, which is not in my daily vernacular. Poultry BREAST MEAT would have been easier.
  
• 39A. The BUTTERFLY EFFECT is a [Chaos theory principle]. I was just talking about this the other day. If Sammy Sosa had not used performance-enhancing drugs in '03, maybe the Cubs wouldn't have made the playoffs and the game in which Steve Bartman caught that ball would never have taken place, so Bartman's life would not have taken a detour. When a steroid-pumped butterfly flaps its ridiculously bulked-up wings...
  
• 53A. The [Road less traveled] is not just an M. Scott Peck book, it's also a BACKSTREET. Who uses that term? I know "back roads," but never realized the Backstreet Boys used a dictionary word in their name.
  
• 61A. [Area where electricians can't stand to work?] is a CRAWL SPACE. Ceiling's too low to stand there. My sister keeps some space clear in her crawl space as a tornado shelter. I've been living near Chicago's lakefront for 19 years, and I've yet to hear a tornado siren here.

Raise your hand if you've never heard of ["Riverdance" fiddler Eileen] IVERS. Keep your hand up. Now raise your hand if you weren't aware that [Altair, for one] is an A-STAR. If you have any hands down, raise one if you didn't know ['80s-'90s Toronto pitcher Dave] STIEB. And raise another hand if your [Fairy tale meany] instinct was OGRE rather than WOLF. I have four hands raised now, and it's making it hard to type this post. I wonder if the constructor was shooting for a pangram (which he achieved) and it was getting those JQKXZ answers in place that led to the pesky abbreviations (ETO crossing REO, DBA beside JUN) and whatnot, the gnarly little bits.

Did you notice the "split" clues? To [Split up] is to END IT. To [Split (up)] is to DIVVY up. And further down in the puzzle, [Split] clues FLEE. Nice! I don't love building an entire theme around "things that mean ___," but having such a trio dropped into the puzzle as a bonus is sweet.

Updated Thursday evening:

Ben Tausig's Ink Well/Chicago Reader crossword. "Status Symbols"

Whoa, where did the day go? Without further ado, let's explain the theme. In the IM world, one sets one's status. I'm not a big user of instant messaging, so the theme entries came to me thanks to their straight clues, not based on any keen familiarity with IM status designations.

• [Imaginative child's companion, perhaps] is an INVISIBLE FRIEND. I prefer "imaginary friend," but if you set your IM status to "imaginary," I'm not sure anyone could contact you.
  
• In sports, an AWAY GAME is an [Occasion for facing a hostile crowd].
  
• The [Devil's tools, it's said] are IDLE HANDS.
  
• [Reshining the pencils, e.g.] would indeed be BUSYWORK, which is defined as "work that keeps a person busy but has little value in itself." Hmm, shining pencils again does indeed have little value.
  
• AVAILABLE CREDIT is the [Amount left on a card].

Nice corners in this grid—look at all those 6's, 7's, and 8's. Two popular websites are in the puzzle: FLICKR is the photo site, a [Picasa alternative], and TWITTER is the [Site with the tagline "What are you doing?"]. I'm OrangeXW on Twitter. Very rarely do my tweets actually say what I'm doing at that moment. I think people like Maureen Dowd who disdain Twitter tend to think that's all it is—that people are giving pointless and dull rundowns of their daily routine. But no. There's sharing of links and information, wiseacre observations, interesting musings and epiphanies. It's not at all an "I had oatmeal this morning" thing.

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Sunday, 2/10

PI 8:05
BG 7:55
WaPo 7:19
NYT 7:14
LAT 7:14
CS 3:32

Hmm, I need to go splash around in the pool of crosswordese poetry and choose a winner tonight. I anticipate that it'll be tough to choose just one winner, so there'll probably be multiple honorable mentions.

The Sunday New York Times crossword by Bill Zais is called "Reverse English," and he's packed a dozen theme entries (9 to 11 letters apiece) into the grid, occupying six full rows. Each theme entry follows the "[word]'s [opposite of word]" structure. For example, [Comeback of a Japanese game] is GO'S RETURN, [Privilege of liberals?] is LEFT'S RIGHT, and [The real scoop about lipids?] is FAT'S SKINNY. (Those three were my favorites.) I think the gettability of that structure made the theme entries mighty easy to figure out, and then the overall fill and clues weren't as tough as usual, either.

The fill contains some good longer entries: there's UTOPIANISM, clued nonintuitively as [Communist's belief], and SWEETIE PIE ([Darlin']), and the [Child-raiser's cry?] for UPSY DAISY. I'd have preferred a non-question-marked clue for UPSY-DAISY, given its length and the question-marking of all the theme clues, just for maximum clarity, but I'm glad to have UPSY-DAISY in the puzzle.

Favorite clues: [Puzzle page favorite] for REBUS; [Portion of a drag queen's wardrobe] for feather BOAS (all right, fess up—how many of you went straight for BRAS?); [Bumptious] for PUSHY and [Rambunctious] for ROWDY; [Missy Elliott's "___ What I'm Talkin' About"] for DAT'S (and what's the "dat" in question? Hot sex); ["Our Gang" affirmative] for OTAY; [Moliere's Harpagon, e.g.] for MISER; [Patriot Putnam of the American Revolution] for RUFUS (because I think I blogged about a similar clue a couple years ago, when I'd never heard of the guy, and because I dig the name Rufus—what, no love for Rufus Sewell of Cold Comfort Farm?); [Literally, "fish tooth"] for PIRANHA (etymology: "via Portuguese from Tupi"); ["Happy Days" character] for Ralph MALPH ('70s pop culture fun!); [It's pitched] for WOO; [Sully] for SMIRCH; [Perfecto, e.g.] for CIGAR (it's a cigar with a particular shape, fat in the middle and tapered at the ends); and ["The Lay of the Host of ___" (old Russian epic poem)] for IGOR (wow, that's a long way to travel for good ol' IGOR).

Updated:

Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer puzzle, "The Doctor Is In," puns with 10 different real or fictional or commercial doctors (spanning 11 entries). I suspect it was almost as easy as the NYT crossword, but I did the NYT with my old keyboard (which I'm having trouble letting go of) and Merl's with the wireless keyboard (which I'm still not used to—see first part of sentence—and have to look down at much more often while typing). Anyway, it's a classic Merl puzzle—lots of theme entries, heavy-duty punning action, and bold stacking of some theme entries (we see relatively little stacking of theme entries—constructors who can pull that off are perhaps the most adroit ones).

Henry Hook's online Boston Globe crossword is called "Happy Holidays!" and it's not curmudgeonly at all. The theme entries are all things associated with holidays—a HEART-SHAPED BOX OF CANDY, FIREWORKS DISPLAY, MACY'S PARADE, etc. Aw, happy times!

Okay, maybe I'm getting accustomed to this keyboard right this very morning, because the second and third crosswords have gone faster than Merl's. Randall Hartman's Washington Post puzzle, "All About Eve," splits EVE into E and VE in eight theme entries, such as EDDIE VEDDER and Edward Lear's NONSENSE VERSE. Fairly easy puzzle with no real trouble spots.

I think I enjoyed Randolph Ross's syndicated LA Times crossword, "Thinking Inside the Box," the most of today's Sunday-sized puzzles. (I haven't done the themeless CrosSynergy puzzle yet—will tend to it after delivering the fellas to the Chicago Auto Show.) Each of eight theme entries has an embedded IDEA, which isn't a particularly fun theme or anything, but I liked the puzzle's gestalt. I didn't care for the clue for ATOI—instead of going French, it's [First nine in a series], as in the letters from A TO I. Plenty of lively fill—ALAN LADD, PLATEAUS, NATIVE SON, I LOVE LA.

Updated again:

Will Johnston's themeless CrosSynergy "Sunday Challenge" is super-easy, not so much because the clues are simple but because the answers tended to be clear-cut with a couple crossings. Even if [Luxor's land] doesn't instantly shout EGYPT to you, what other lands start with EG? The fill was fresh and light—GOOGLE and TRAIL MIX, FRISBEES and LIBERACE, NOOGIE and TIE-DYE, SERENDIP ([Old name for Sri Lanka]—older than Ceylon or just Persian?) and "OLÉ, OLÉ."

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Friday, 12/21

NYS 5:32
Jonesin' 4:42
NYT 4:28
CHE 4:28
LAT 4:something (uh, I forgot to note the time)
CS 2:43

WSJ 7:27

Patrick Berry delivers the one-two knockout of the Friday New York Times crossword and the New York Sun "Weekend Warrior." Comparison by the numbers (some of them subjective):

Word count: 64 NYS to 66 NYT
Advantage: Sun

Question-marked clues: 6 NYT to 2 NYS
Advantage: Times

Clues that I found especially entertaining, interesting, or challenging: 16 NYS to 16 NYT
Advantage: tie

Scrabbly letter count: 2 Ks and an X in NYS to 2 Ks and a J in NYT
Advantage: tie

Cool entries: 9 NYT to 6 NYS
Advantage: Times

Clunkier or dull entries: 6 NYS to 6 NYT
Advantage: tie

"Roll your own" words formed with suffixes, prefixes, or excessive pluralizing: really none in either (bravo!)
Advantage: tie

Executive summary: Two superior themeless puzzles with a slight edge to the Times for a smidgen more enjoyment.

Here's what I liked in Berry's Times crossword: First, look what 1-Across is sitting on. BEBOP, UVULA? So close to Be-Bop-A-Lula that you can sing it. Favorite clues: [Novel that nobody reads] for AUDIOBOOK; [Net sales?] for E-COMMERCE (which feels like a real E-word and not, you know, an E-note or E-mag that feels cooked up for a tough spot to fill a crossword grid); [Grave mound] for BARROW (check out the three different meanings of barrow, all with different Old English etyma); speaking of Old English, here's GRENDEL, clued as [Cannibal of Anglo-Saxon legend]; [Union station?] for ALTAR; [The Pearl of the Danube] for BUDAPEST; [Stick on the grill] for SKEWER; [Product lines?] for BAR CODES; [Who's left?] for LIBERALS; and [Bridge declaration] for LAND HO, referring to the bridge of a ship and not that dratted card game that gets so much play in crosswords. Most favored entries: WINSOME smile; INSIDE JOB; VETERAN crossing the DRAFT; HANDILY; [King's successor as S.C.L.C. president] ABERNATHY; GENTLE BEN, the '60s TV show starring a young Clint Howard and a bear (I saw this show 10 years ago on TV in Vienna, dubbed into German, and I don't grasp why they went to the trouble); and WYNTON Marsalis. Side note: 2-Down EVA GABOR was born in 3-Down BUDAPEST.

In Berry's Sun puzzle, three women's names take a variety of clues: PAMELA is [Diplomat Harriman], CLORIS is actress Leachman, and AMANDA is some Boston song I have no recollection of ever hearing. My favorites clues: [Having the most guts?] for GORIEST; [Stubborn] for ORNERY (I get ornery when I'm sleepy); [They go back and forth through trees] for SAWS; [It's far from the point] for HILT; [Statue subject outside of Dolphin Stadium] for MARINO (which I was going to make fun of until I remembered the Michael Jordan statue at the United Center—no, wait, I can still make fun of the Dan Marino statue because it's painted and in a flowerbed); [What actually gets tapped with a hammer during a reflex test] for TENDON; [Special delivery?] for TRIPLETS; [What the chorus of "Escape (The Piña Colada Song)" is] for PERSONAL AD; [Purslane and peppergrass, e.g.] for POTHERBS; [Fictional writer of "The World According to Bensenhaver"] for GARP; and [Like some marriages] for SAME-SEX. The best entries: DEAR DIARY; TUMULT (it's an odd-looking word); NORMA RAE with its complete title; BOWLARAMA; UNALASKA instead of its fellow Alaskan island, Attu; and STENCILED.

Matt Jones's Jonesin' puzzle, "I Curse You," starts each of five theme entries with idiomatic synonyms for damned or effing. They make a fun quintet! And I won't spoil 'em for you. The Tool album title at 46-Down is said to be a blend of the Jungian word anima and the word enema. Ooo-kay, then.

Updated:

Nancy Salomon and Bill Zais's joint effort in the Wall Street Journal is a delight! "Christmas Presents" has two gimmicks in the grid—the obvious one is the highlighted squares in the middle, six interlocked 11-letter presents that form a big beribboned box. That's not really a gimmick per se, so much as a cluster of theme entries in a pleasing array. The other gimmick is the rebus entries, the four longest Across and Down answers aside from the gift box in the middle. Each of those long answers includes a wrapped-up [BOX] rebus, and those entries (one of which is, aptly, GIFT-WRAPPED [BOX]) sort of enclose the central gift box in a rebus wrapping paper.

Speaking of Christmas gifts, if you're looking to buy yourself some puzzle books, or to bestow same on others, print out the recommendations Rex and I compiled and head to the bookstore. Me, I'm not done with my shopping, and I haven't gone to the store all week. I should get on that, eh?

Ray Hamel's 12/7 Chronicle of Higher Education crossword is called "Hybrids," and the theme entries are two hybrids that can be plucked and two that can be found in jams—but not necessarily that kind of jam or that kind of plucking. The strangest entry in this puzzle is BEEF TEA, [Broth served to the ailing]. I Googled up a recipe for it and was delighted to see that the website's called "Recipes of the Damned." Yes, indeed. Not recipes I will be making. Speaking of food, the [Sauce put on rice] clue threw me. Asians typically eat white rice plain or with a saucy food on top—and do not douse rice with SOY sauce. (My husband was surprised to learn that I grew up putting butter or margarine on rice, but I drew the line at soy sauce.) Uncommon vocabulary word in the grid: RENITENT, [Uncompliant].

Dan Naddor's LA Times crossword is fortified with five essential minerals, worked into the theme entries in a successfully punny way. As a bonus, some of the theme entries are rather Scrabbly. Interesting fill and clues—overall an enjoyable solve. (And here, SOY is a [Vegan staple] rather than an Americanized abomination on rice.)

Martin Ashwood-Smith's CrosSynergy puzzle, "Striking It Rich," highlights three phrases synonymous with rich. Quite easy despite the generous amounts of white space.

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Sunday, July 1

(updated 9:30 AM Sunday)

Hi, Evad here, quickly jumping in for the traveling Orange,

with tomorrow's NY Times....a tribute to the "boys of summer," Diamond Jubilee.

(Right now our hometown Red Sox are trailing the Texas Rangers 5-4 in the 5th...I wonder if the game will be over before I finish this post?)

Constructor Bill Zais's name was new to me, but on Kevin McCann's cruciverb.com site, I see he's had many puzzles, some with his co-constructor today, the prodigious Nancy Salomon.

The circles in the center of the puzzle trace a baseball diamond, with four rebuses representing the four bases at the corners--HOME, FIRST, SECOND and THIRD.

Along the base paths, starting (of course) from HOME, our batter answers the clue (in the Across Lite Notepad) "Now I've seen everything!" with THAT'S A [FIRST] (maybe this is this batter's debut?). He then STEALS [SECOND]. The crowd roars! He then responds to the clue "Show" with FINISH [THIRD], rounding the base to STAYED [HOME], which he certainly is glad he did not, as he scores the run!

Other baseball puns pepper the corners of the grid--FIELD TRIPS is clued as "Cause of some baseball errors?", PARK RANGER is a Texas ballplayer (speaking of the Rangers, they're still leading our Sox, 5-4 in the 6th),
GRASS SKIRT is a "Diamond border" (skirt can be defined as the edge of the baseball playing field), and GROUND BEEF as a complaint on the field. Then there's the inclusion of the classic "Abbott and Costello bit," WHO'S ON [FIRST].

Other nice fill includes SLIPSTREAM, PIED-Á-TERRE, and MOBILE [HOME], clued as "Object of tornado destruction" (it does seem like they are tornado magnets, doesn't it?) There's also a definite druggy vibe with LSD and (Crystal) METH.

A couple areas I went astray: SEE YOU for SO LONG, TRY for SIP and BOO for COO (the last clued as, "Sound from the rafters"--I have to believe that misdirection was intended!) Also, LEHRS was new to me, but gettable from the crossers. And finally, [THIRD] ESTATE sounded only vaguely familiar. (The first are clergy, the second nobility, and the third, everyone left over. A cheer from the commoners!)

A home run from Nancy and Bill!

Updated:

Deb Amlen brings us today's WaPo, with another baseball-themed idea. She starts 7 theme phrases with common baseball verbs, clued instead as a discussion between 2 baseball execs about signing a free-agent. So PITCH, STEAL, HIT, THROW, CATCH, SWING and STRIKE move from the field into the back office. Fun idea which shows Deb can construct for the standard markets just as well as for the more edgy "Onion" readers. (Her most recent "Onion" puzzle featured a "Sopranos" theme with a definition of "Cosa Nostra" and other mafia-related entries.)

Lots of tea-related clues in the WaPo: "Like some tea" was ICED, "Invited for tea, say" was ASKED IN, and "Pekoe holder" was a TEA CHEST. Also enjoyed seeing the "oldies" references to "Get Smart's" KAOS, "Three Stooges" Larry FINE, and a game of my childhood, "Operation" with patient Cavity SAM. Strange bits with HISN clued as "Nonstandard towel word," and the French king, Hugh CAPET.


Today's LAT breaks the string of baseball themes with "Home Remodeling," a puzzle by Dan Naddor. Ten theme entries take phrases with features of a home and anagram ("remodel") the "homey" word. Fave entries included: BOREDOM (BEDROOM) EYES for "Ennui indicator?" and RICKETY SITARS (STAIRS) for "Poorly built Asian strings?" (If you're playing from your own home, the other 8 anagrams are of DEN, STUDY, KITCHEN, CELLAR, DOOR, BASEMENT, POOL and ATTIC.) I liked the idea, and was impressed with two long theme entries running down the NW and SE only a square apart. The inconsistency of most (but not all) entries being names of rooms bothered me just a tad, but I quickly recovered.

As for the fill, I liked the clue "Revolution period?" for YEAR, the word CAVORT (does anyone CAVORT these days?), and the consonant-rich PRMAN for "Spin doc." Things I learned: Merv Griffin was born in SAN MATEO, the Guardian Angels' founder's name was Curtis SLIWA (which crossed "ELIAS Sports Bureau," a tough intersection), THOR missiles, and New York Times film critic, BOSLEY Crowther. I thought the Tyson quote was going to be his more-oft quoted comment, "I guess I'm gonna fade into Bolivian" instead of "I was freer when I didn't have A CENT." Ahh, the perils and plights of the rich and infamous...

Now I guess I'll fade back into Bolivian myself...

Evad

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