Jonesin' 4:25
Sun 4:11
LAT 3:12
NYT 2:39
(updated at 10:30 Tuesday morning)
Dan Kantor and Jay Kaskel's New York Times crossword noshes on some MIXED NUTS for a theme. About a year ago, there was another NYT puzzle with mixed nuts, featuring anagrammed nut names. This time around, NUTS is anagrammed into assorted letter sequences that appear inside longer phrases, in the circled squares:
The theme concept doesn't excite me, but the execution is terrific anyway. "Four phrases with some permutation of the letters NUTS in them" sounds like a lifeless concept, but these four phrases pack a lot of SALSA ([Tortilla chip dip]) in them and make it all work. Assorted other entries:
I know a lot of you like to get the jump on the Sun crossword. You may notice a couple blank spots on the Sun calendar page of puzzle downloads. The 1/15 puzzle is available only in PDF form, via the calendar on the right side of the page at Cruciverb. The 1/23 puzzle will be made available that day after the Oscar nominations are out. Returning to the present, the 1/13 puzzle is by editor Peter Gordon (a.k.a. Ogden Porter), and the "Oys of Yiddish" are the groans you may let out when you encounter the puns in the theme. No groans here, though—the "turn S-words into Yiddish SCH-words" theme was fun, and Peter saved the best one for the end. First, you've got your BATTING SCHLUMPS, clued as [Slovenly hitters?]. Sounds like a baseball fan's had too many beers, no? Then there's SCHMEAR CAMPAIGN, a [Set of ads for cream cheese?]. And the all-star, SCHLEPPED AROUND, plays on "slept around" and gets clued as [Carried?].
I'm surprised to learn that there was ever an OREO Fun Barbie doll. Top-notch fill all the way around in this Sun puzzle, from AM RADIO and the SUN BELT to CRAYOLA, "I'M GOOD," and HARLEM.
Updated:
Gail Grabowski's LA Times crossword has a "beautiful" theme—each of the long Across answers begins with a synonym for that word.
An ATTRACTIVE DEAL is a [Temptation for a business exec].
[Getting on in years] is BECOMING OLD.
A good [Chunk of change] is a PRETTY PENNY.
FETCHING STICKS is [Fun for Fido], but British vets say it's dangerous.
I don't think all the theme entries quite make it as stand-alone phrases. For example, playing fetch works better, but in this theme, the beautiful words come at the beginning. EMOTE is clued as a [Director's cry to an underactor?]. I recently read a couple articles that used the word. In one case, emoting was a good thing for a singer to do. In the other, when he felt the actors were going too far, a director cried "Emote! Emote!" to mock them into reeling it in a bit. There are several numbers hanging out in this grid: one [Till compartment] is TENS, which at first I thought would be ONES, but ONE is a few words away, clued as [Ace's value, at times]. There's also a TRIO, or [Small jazz combo], and an [Egg purchase] of a DOZEN. Yesterday, I bought my first half-dozen eggs, which I should've started long ago because I seldom finish a dozen before they're long expired. The nautical content doesn't goad me by skewing obscure, for which I'm grateful; there's just a CHART, or [Marine map], and STERN, or [Back on the ocean?]. The cruise ship I sailed on last month labeled the ends "forward" and "aft"—no bow or STERN in sight.
Matt Jones's Jonesin' crossword, "A New Beginning," rings in 2009 by finding the year (in Roman numerals) strewn throughout four phrases. The letters in MMIX (68-Across) appear in order (but not consecutively) in these answers:
I took a guess that [Boxer Ingemar Johansson's nickname] was the inferrable INGO because that's the only way I was getting that G. The crossing is ARGUIDOS, the [Portuguese term meaning "suspects," brought up in the 2007 Madeleine McCann disappearance case] that I don't recall seeing before even though I was reading the papers in England for two weeks when that story was fresh. I can easily forgive ARGUIDOS from making me use all eight crossings because of what it's sandwiched between: MAN-BOOBS ([Features of some fat guys, at a pool]) is off to a good start in the contest for my favorite crossword answer of the year, and the colloquial GOT NEXT ([Placed dibs on, as in a street basketball game]) is good, too. Both are unlikely to populate a daily newspaper's crossword, and I appreciate the sassy freshness that the indie puzzles can offer. (Does it ruin it, calling it "sassy freshness"?) Other fill I liked: AM-SCRAY, Gustav KLIMT, the SEX WAX surfwax brand name, and pop-culture names like KUMAR and PEREZ Hilton. Oh, and DITKA clued as ["Bill Swerski's Superfans" idol, on "SNL"]. Here's a video clip of that for you. The psyche of a Chicago sports fan, the Chicago accents, the sausage and heart attacks—it's all rendered in accurate splendor.
January 12, 2009
Tuesday, 1/13
July 01, 2008
Wednesday, 7/2
NYS 5:22
LAT 4:00
NYT 3:20
CS 2:53
How nifty is Daniel Kantor's theme in the New York Times crossword? I give the theme four stars for its cleverness. 
James Sajdak's New York Sun crossword is called "Last Gasps," and the final word in each theme entry is re-spelled to represent some sort of gasp. The Wizard of Oz turns into THE WIZARD OF AHS, a [Throat doctor's nickname?]. Jimi Hendrix's "Purple Haze" becomes PURPLE HEYS. A short fuse is transformed into SHORT PHEWS, or [Quick breaths of relief]. The primordial ooze is recycled into PRIMORDIAL OOHS. Highlights in the fill include DC COMICS, a bunch of Scrabbly words (ALTO SAX, QUIT, ZIGS, ZAP, WHISKS), AU JUS, and PANACHE—not to mention FIENDS clued as [Buffs]. Indeed! ["The Quest for ___" (John le Carre trilogy)] was a new one on me—the answer's KARLA.
Updated:
Randolph Ross's CrosSynergy puzzle, "Re Assessments," has four kinds of educational assessment tools for specific occupational categories, and while the theme description may be clunky, the theme itself is fun:
Joy Frank's LA Times crossword hinges on slangy words for thievery. Thieves might be said to lift, steal, take, or pinch their quarry, and the theme entries are standard phrases clued as if they were terms for thieves. A [Piggy bank thief?] might be a PENNY PINCHER, for example, and a [Theater thief?] a SCENE STEALER. I like those two and [Gym thief?], or WEIGHT LIFTER, but MESSAGE TAKER ([Office thief?]) seems less natural a phrase. Is it substantively different from a phrase such as "phone answerer"?
June 10, 2008
Wednesday, 6/11
Tausig 5:02
NYS 4:52
CS 3:56
Jonesin' 3:53
Onion 3:48
NYT 3:14
LAT 3:09
Because I am in a good mood this evening, let me share my son's cheery poem from earlier in second grade:
cherrys are red
Sweet and juicy
a grate cherry
Cool and shiny
I could eat
a hundred cherrys.
I meant to tend to this week's Jonesin' puzzle when it was e-mailed out from the Jonesin' Google Group on Monday, but I forgot. And I usually blog about the Tausig and Onion puzzles on Tuesdays, but when I'm minutes from heading to the NYT applet for the Wednesday puzzle, it seems silly to continue updating the Tuesday post. So the Wednesday post will cover seven puzzles this week. Wednesday's a busy day for me, though, so I'll need to be brief.
Matt Gaffney's Onion A.V. Club puzzle has a wonderfully fresh theme. Four phrases adopt an MC to turn them into things that might be associated with McDonald's. [Sandwich eaten in Eden?] is ADAM'S McRIB. [Sandwich only eaten in May?] is a SPRING McCHICKEN. [Mile-high mystery meat?] is DENVER McNUGGETS. And ["Congratulations on finishing this puzzle!"] gets you a "GREAT McJOB!" pat on the back. I can't say that the [Spider-Man villain] KAINE came to my mind. [Taste for fine art] is VIRTU, which seems a mite fancy for the Onion. More in line with the publication is MEH (["Whatever"]), and that is indeed a useful word, capturing an unenthusiastic disdain in a way no other word quite does. Favorite clue: [Parting shot?] for NIGHTCAP. I really like this puzzle, so I'm saving a copy in my "favorite mid-week puzzles" folder.
Patrick Blindauer cools off the June heat with his New York Sun puzzle, "Freeze Frames." This has nothing to do with the J. Geils Band song called "Freeze Frame." Nope, it's a rebus puzzle with six ICE cubes. [Booking agents?] are POLICE OFFICERS; [Van de Graaff generator generation] is STATIC ELECTRICITY; [It might have integral roots] is an incomprehensibly mathy clue for ALGEBRAIC EQUATION; and [Uses a knife, maybe] is SLICES AND DICES. I like how the 15s each contain a single rebus square (so they're really 17-letter phrases), while the 10s each have two ICEs (so they're 14s). The rebus revealed itself early, with the crossing between POLICE-something and ALICE, the Lewis [Carroll character] wedged into three boxes. Most surprising fill entries: EPISODE I, ["The Phantom Menace" title part] (though I think that's been in a couple crosswords before), and UV RAYS, [They're blocked by the ozone layer]. Did you know that GORDON was a [Name that's Old English for "round hill"]? I'll bet Sun crossword editor Peter Gordon did.
Daniel Kantor's New York Times crossword has a colloquial theme of white lies, or "LIE-ABILITY"—[What 17-, 23-, 37- and 51-Across may demonstrate?]. Those lies include the [Debtor's avowal], IT'S IN THE MAIL; [Doctor's assurance], WON'T HURT A BIT; [Gift recipient's declaration], JUST WHAT I WANTED; and [Prankster's denial], I DIDN'T DO IT. In the fill, I'm glad to see IRON clued as [___ Man, comics hero]; it's a good movie. [They're worth 1.0] means DEES, or D letter grades in a GPA. TO DIE FOR is all right, but I kinda wanted the answer to be as delicious as the clue, [Super-scrumptious].Ben Tausig's Ink Well/Chicago Reader puzzle, "Enqueued," modifies phrases that end with words or syllables that start with W, turning that W sound into a Q sound. Harry Potter's school, Hogwarts, becomes HOG QUARTS, or [Jars of bacon grease?]. Two of the theme entries are doubly Scrabbly—SEX QUIRK (sex work) is [Fetish?], and Cheez Whiz becomes CHEEZ QUIZ, a [Test on processed condiments?]. There are 14 fill answers that run 7 or 8 letters (SODA JERK! AIRHEAD! CARLS JR!), which gives the puzzle a fillip of Friday-style fill. Favorite clue: [Job tester] for GOD, as in the characters from the Bible's Book of Job, and not a lowercase-j job. CUBICLE clued as [Farm unit?] is good, too.
Matt Jones's Jonesin' crossword, "Fools on Film," bundles together a trio of items used to fake people out in movies. For example, a CARDBOARD CUTOUT is [put in front of a window to fool people into thinking someone is standing there (as in "Home Alone")]. Most surprising entry (ahem): the [Bank deposit] is SPERM. This puzzle's got the standard Jonesin' pop culture and slang fill, with entries like MEL C ([Sporty Spice's nickname]) and DORKY ([Out of style]). The [1990s sitcom character who had his own breakfast cereal] is URKEL; here's an entertaining writeup from a guy who ate a 13-year-old box of Urkel-O's and lived to tell the tale. The last name of ["Dirty Jobs" host Mike] is, of course, ROWE. Dirty Jobs is this household's consensus favorite, beloved by parents and child alike. If you've never seen it, here's a clip of Mike's visit to a worm ranch.
Updated:
I was halfway through Bob Klahn's CrosSynergy puzzle before I noticed the byline. Yeah, that makes sense—I was already enjoying the clues and they were making me think. The "In the Hole" theme includes four words or phrases that begin with HO and end with LE. It's not my favorite type of theme, but anything that brings HORNSWOGGLE, HONEYSUCKLE, and HOT TAMALE together is OK in my book. The clues tell us about two Benjamin Franklin inventions: DST (daylight saving time) and the bifocal LENS. Bracketing the right-hand corners are the quasi-related [She's got milk] and [Big jugs]—COW and EWERS. [Dangerous mate] means the mate of the word "dangerous"—"ARMED and dangerous." The preceding clue is [Mate's agreement], meaning AYE, what the captain's first mate might say. That's a Klahn trick, the evocation of different meanings of a word in successive clues. Usually a suffix is a lousy entry, but here IAN (which could be clued as the first name) is clued [Follower of Adler, Freud, or Jung?], so flexible thinking is needed. [Walk on water?] is a noun, not a verb—PIER.
Jack McInturff's Los Angeles Times crossword hid its grand unifying answer, PEN at 67-Across, in the very last corner of the grid I looked at:
- POINT SPREAD = [Oddsmaker's concern]
- LIGHT TOUCH = [Pianist's attribute]
- PAL JOEY = [John O'Hara classic]
- NAME-CALLER = [Nasty campaigner]—although these days, nasty campaigning goes way beyond name-calling
- KNIFE PLEATS = [Clothing folds]
I thought PEN POINT sounded awkward and contrived, but it turns out to be a self-contained dictionary entry so I can't complain. Just above PAL JOEY is STATE MAP, and when I wasn't looking at the PEN clue, I nearly convinced myself that PEN(N) STATE was part of the theme.
April 08, 2008
Wednesday, 4/9
NYS 4:59
NYT 3:42
LAT 3:16
CS 3:09
It's Tuesday, and it's trivia night. A friend of mine will be joining the group tonight for the second time—she felt like she didn't contribute that other time, but having another person way on this side of age 25 has got to help, right? I don't know how much help I'll be, though—I'm all yawny and felt very sleepy while solving the following crossword just now.
Tony Orbach's New York Sun crossword, "Done to a T," felt hard to me, but either it's a bit harder than usual for a Wednesday Sun (for which my average solving time is 4:46) or tiredness is knocking me down a peg. I'm not sure this is the best description of the theme: Phrases starting with __ND words become phrases starting with __NT words, and the clues reflect the new word's meaning. A trendsetter is one thing, but a TRENT SETTER would be an [Engliish water dog?],, and the phrase "...and counting" turns into entomological ANT COUNTING. Who knew that [Lucia's brother in "Lucia di Lammermoor"] was named ENRICO? Or that ALEX HALEY wrote a book called A Different Kind of Christmas? I hadn't made sense out of [Bedroom closet community?], and ended up filling in NARNIA strictly through the crossings—didn't even see the answer until just now. Favorite clue: [Notable two-dimensional performer?] for TV STAR.
Updated Tuesday night:
Huzzah! We won trivia! I'm not quite sure how we won with so few points, but apparently the other teams recalled fewer answers. My key contributions were knowing the name of Perot's '92 running mate (and I swear he also had a '96 running mate who was included in a themeless crossword recently, and I'd never heard of him and have again forgotten his name) and the country where Mother Teresa was born.
The New York Times crossword is a joint production from Daniel Kantor and Jay Kaskel. The very last letter I typed in was supposed to be a D (in DRUM), but I typed an adjacent S instead (and just now, I typed "asjacent" at first). In searching for the typo after getting the "incorrect" message, of course I started scanning the grid at 1-Across. Nothing like a 20-second typo search to enhance one's solving time. But the crossword's theme was kinda funny—WHINE AND DINE describes the kvetchy complaints a dissatisfied restaurant patron might have. For 20- and 47-Across, the snarkiest remarks are in the clues, with the straightforward equivalents in the grid (e.g., MY SOUP IS COLD is direct, where ["I asked for tomato bisque, not gazpacho!"] is the bitchy snipe. 28-Across takes the opposite tack, with ARE WE INVISIBLE being more oblique than ["Has our waiter even made eye contact?"]. Favorite clues and answers: [Language of the Hindustan Express] for URDU; ATM FEE, or [Money for money]; DADDY-O ([Pops]); and [Pal] for both BUB and BRO (MAC must have been busy).
Updated:
Donna Levin's LA Times crossword features four two-word phrases that rhyme with Alice, with four different ways of spelling that cluster of sounds. George Halas, a phallus, and callous are feeling a bit put out that the grid was not able to accommodate more than the other four. The [Renata Tebaldi rival] is MARIA CALLAS, the [Jazz at Lincoln Center director] is WYNTON MARSALIS, [Winston Churchill's ancestral home] was BLENHEIM PALACE, and the [Last Supper wine vessel] was a HOLY CHALICE.
Mel Rosen's CrosSynergy puzzle is called "How Do You Stand?" and "positions" are the theme. Each theme entry is both a word made of a prefix + position and a short word followed by the word position. For example, a [Dining room chair] is a SUP POSITION, and supposition is a word (not alluded to in the clue).
December 11, 2007
Wednesday, 12/12
NYS 4:48
NYT 3:26
CS 3:20
LAT 3:18
Tonight's trivia night, so if I get to the Times crossword tonight, it won't be until rather late. And maybe, just maybe, I will cut myself some slack and just go to bed when I get home.
In the meantime, y'all can talk about the Times puzzle after it's released, along with the New York Sun crossword by Sean O.F. Smith. (Why can't I avoid thinking of O.D.B. when I see those O.F. initials?) The puzzle's called "No Way!" and indeed, assorted "ways" (or abbreviations for types of streets) have been scuttled here and the resulting new phrases clued accordingly. A diving board loses its road (RD) and becomes DIVING BOA (see also discussion of anacondas and water moccasins in comments on previous post). Direct deposit drops a court (CT) to make DIRE DEPOSIT, a [Calamitous arterial accretion]. (Extra bonus points for the word accretion, which I like.) A Detroit Piston basketball player sheds a street (ST) to become a [Motown particle?], or DETROIT PION. A drill sergeant loses the drive (DR) to become an ILL SERGEANT. And last, above average detours around the avenue (AVE) to make ABOVE RAGE. Good crossword!
Updated Tuesday night:
Huzzah! We won at trivia! (We wouldn't have if not for wagering all 40 points possible on the final question, but hey, not every team could place these world religions in order from highest to lowest percentage of the globe's population: Muslim, Buddhist, Christian, Hindu. And we nailed it.)
The New York Times crossword by Daniel Kantor has a theme. Hmm, what was it? Lemme take a look. Ah, yes. Four things that are A GOOD DEAL: a BAJILLION (not to be confused with bajingo); getting [21 in two cards], or BLACKJACK; getting TWO FOR ONE at happy hour; and an executive's GOLDEN PARACHUTE (factoid from the Enron documentary: One of the execs who cashed in big became something like the second-largest landowner in the state of Colorado). Fave fill: HOBNOB, HOJO, "IT'S SO YOU," PHOTO ID (tonight before trivia, the bar's bouncer followed me to the table to ask to see my ID—hah!), SNOOZE, GOOEY like caramel, CANDIDE (which crosses IDEE at the end, making me wonder if it was originally CANDIDA and IDEA, and Will nixed the yeasty entry), and LEE J COBB in his entirety. Oh, and ANSON Williams, who played Potsie on Happy Days.
Updated Wednesday morning:
I couldn't find the theme in James Sajdak's LA Times crossword—three phrases began with roughly synonymous words, but the fourth did not. I'd filled in the explanatory 54-Down via the crossings and hadn't seen the clue—TOUCH can follow the first words, SOFT, GENTLE, SMOOTH, and MAGIC. Favorite fill: JUNKY, ZZ TOP, BOOZY followed by SOBER, and "TOLD YA."
Randolph Ross's CrosSynergy puzzle's called "A's, E's, and I's for You." He doesn't only have I's for you, in IT'S IN HIS KISS, but also A's (ATLANTA HAWKS) and E's (REFERENCE LETTER)—phrases that contain just one vowel. Scattered throughout the grid are numerous words with only O's (STOP SHORT, NONCOMS, BORN TO, etc.), but all U gets is pond SCUM. Poor U.
August 06, 2007
Tuesday, 8/7
Tausig 4:33
Onion 4:22
NYT 3:47 (minus 45 seconds of typo searching...honest)
NYS 3:32
CS 2:58
LAT 2:41
(updated at 9:20 a.m. and 1:30 p.m. Tuesday)
Patrick Blindauer shows off again in the New York Sun, with an unusual grid with left-right symmetry. It's rather obvious when you look at the pattern of black squares that there must be a reason for that extended chunk of black extending upwards from the bottom middle. When you fill in 17-Across, SWORD IN THE STONE, the picture gets its caption. The theme is further expanded with ARTHUR / PENDRAGON, the wizard of his acquaintance named MERLIN, and his sword, EXCALIBUR, which is represented by the black-squares sword-in-the-stone in the grid. (I saw the movie Excalibur in 8th or 9th grade...ah, youth. Things I liked here (besides the inventive white-and-black-squares theme): [Devil, e.g.] for NHLER, as in the New Jersey Devils; [Shot putter?] for SYRINGE; the linked 44- and 35-Across, a [stud's spot], a PIERCED...what?? Oh. Just an EAR. Goodness, I've left the semicoloned list and must return to it; UNSEALS clued with reference to indictments (more often, the word's clued with jars or mail, and who ever talks about unsealing those as opposed to opening them?); [Chocolate factory emissions] for AROMAS (I love the Blommer factory's chocoriffic air pollution); [Plum parts] for PITS, "plum" being the fruit rather than the adjective here; and [Former union members?] for EXES (not SSRS!). I didn't know anything about ADAM "Pacman" Jones of the Tennessee Titans. Go ahead and read the "Legal Troubles" section of that article and tell me if there's any reason he should have been suspended from playing football rather than just plain fired. Would you still have your job if you did what Jones has reportedly done? Hmph.
I have apparently lost the ability to complete a New York Times crossword on the applet without making a typo. This time, it took me 45 seconds to notice that I'd typed OMCE for ONCE. (And yesterday, I didn't mention it here, but yes, another typo. The civil rights march wasn't in SLEMA.) Daniel Kantor provides us with another Sopranos-linked crossword. (Will these continue beyond this year? I wonder.) Raise your hand if you managed to spell FUHGEDABOUDIT on the first pass, without checking a zillion crossing words to confirm the letters. (My hand remains unraised. I started with FUHGEDDA... and ran out of room, then FUHGEDABOUTIT, and eventually the right answer.) That phrase and two others are tied together as part of the MOB SCENE. Interesting clue: [First word of every Robert Ludlum title but one] for THE—here are the titles. And what's the [Army barber's specialty]? Why, it's a BUZZCUT. My son just got his first-ever super-short haircut:
It'll grow in.
Updated:
Cute theme in Jack McInturff's LA Times crossword—you might CALL A DOCTOR who's one of the three famous fictional doctors who being the theme entries. Dr. HOUSE(-SITTER) is Hugh Laurie's TV character; Doctor DETROIT(, MICHIGAN) from the Dan Aykroyd character (not a physician); and NO MORE MR NICE GUY starts with James Bond's foe, Dr. NO. (Was he a physician?) I like the MR in the third theme entry echoing the absent DR.
Harvey Estes' CrosSynergy puzzle, "Where the Children Are Above Average," marks the 65th birthday of a certain writer with a tribute puzzle featuring the writer's name and three of his book titles. Left-right symmetry, rather than 180° symmetry, governs this grid.
And again:
I find that I approach Francis Heaney's crosswords with a degree of trepidation. There's going to be some extra mental effort needed to grasp some sort of unexpected twist. (And yes, there is such a thing as an expected twist in a crosswords, such as a regular Thursday rebus involving a short word.) Here, the twist is that the theme entries are all cross-referenced in the clues, meaning that you've got to figure out what the hell Francis is talking about in the clues in order to make good headway. The theme entries make up the key words in this paragraph: MARCEL DUCHAMP defaced a POSTCARD of the MONA / LISA, adding a MUSTACHE and a GOATEE, and called it L.H.O.O.Q. If you pronounce those individual letters aloud in FRENCH, it sounds kinda like the French equivalent of "SHE HAS A HOT ASS" (Elle a un haut cul?) This discussion of L.H.O.O.Q. has more on the artwork and its name.
I solved Ben Tausig's Ink Well/Chicago Reader puzzle, "Muscling In," after a workout at the gym. (No, not all of my workouts are mental.) Some of the muscles added to theme entries (at or near the beginning of the base phrases) were given due attention at the gym. I didn't do much for my abs, and I also don't understand the base phrase for RABBI BASEBALL. I know RBI means "runs batted in" in baseball, but what's RBI baseball? The king cobra gets a pec (who wouldn't like a kiss on the cheek from a PECKING COBRA?). Scarface beefs up the thighs with SQUAD CAR FACE, and a fine mess works its shoulders into a DELTA FINE MESS. Highlights in this puzzle: the TWERP and TWIT [Ninny] combo; the Scrabbliness of KINKOS, IRAQI, and NIX; O'REILLY clued with reference to the book reviewed here; a refreshing SMALL OJ, an excellent source of vitamin C and potassium; and the quaint freshness of BIBLE BELT and MOPSY Cottontail. Anyone think Canadian pop singer EMM Gryner is a name we'll see in more crosswords?
