Showing posts with label Pamela Amick Klawitter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pamela Amick Klawitter. Show all posts

September 12, 2009

Sunday, 9/13/09

NYT 11:33
PI 7:16
LAT 5:45
CS 3:20
BG tba—file not found

Congratulations to Eric Maddy, champion of Saturday's Bay Area Crossword Puzzle Tournament. I haven't heard any other details, such as who the finalists were and whether Tyler Hinman's Sunday-sized tournament puzzle will be published in a newspaper or online. I'll share what I learn.

Todd Gross's New York Times crossword, "Let's Play Bingo"

I've seen a few of Todd Gross's unpublished (or not yet published) puzzles, so I know he's drawn to gimmicks. Gimmicks can be highly polarizing, but I had fun with this one. The bingo gimmick is that a dozen interlocking entries are unclued, and you have to piece them together with the crossings and check to see which letter/number combos on the bingo card in the middle of the grid will fit in those spaces. When you fill in, say, B-SEVEN, you circle B-7 on the bingo card (the clue says Mark your card! for each). Play the crossbingo game right, and you'll get bingo. The last bingo number I filled in in the crossword was N-FORTY at 124-Across, and that won bingo for me. Congrats on your debut, Todd.

The bingo entries lack any sort of wordplay, of course, as you're looking at the bingo card to see what those answers could be. They are:

  • 1A. B-SEVEN
  • 25A. G-FORTY-NINE
  • 60A. I-SIXTEEN
  • 73A. B-FIFTEEN
  • 111A. I-SEVENTEEN
  • 124A. N-FORTY
  • 1D. B-TWELVE (this one is also a vitamin)
  • 16D. O-SIXTY-ONE
  • 29D. G-FIFTY-THREE
  • 53D. O-SEVENTY-TWO
  • 75D. I-NINETEEN
  • 92D. I-TWENTY
Suddenly I feel like I'm blogging about sudoku...but I did enjoy teasing out the bingo entries. Plus, I got bingo, so I assume the New York Times will be sending me my prize money shortly.

Returning to crosswordland, the least familiar word in the whole puzzle was in the 119A clue: [What an aurilave cleans]. That is a dreadfully obscure word! But the auri- root shouts EAR, and -lave covers the washing part of the word. Also on the unfamiliar side is 33A: [Third year in 31-Across's reign]. Cross-referenced Roman numeral clue? Good gravy! The year is LVI, for NERO, the 31A: [Emperor who married his stepsister]. (Ick.) Then there's 44A: [Manfred ___, 1967 Chemistry Nobelist] EIGEN. And I'm not sure I've seen NET TV used; that's 50A: [Hulu, e.g.], a website on which you can watch TV shows and clips. DARE ME as a 13D: [Statement of self-confidence] sounds weird, too. Moreover, I hadn't heard of either of the early 20th-century pop culture bits—94D: [Popular 1940s radio show "___ Alley"] is ALLEN'S, and then there's 100D: ELSIE [___ Janis, star of Broadway's "Puzzles of 1925"].

This could be a horrible class of clues, but I dig genealogy and geography so I liked 26D: [Second-most common Vietnamese family name, after Nguyen] for TRAN. If you're curious about the most common surnames in various countries, Wikipedia has a compilation.

Ooh, U.S. Open play has resumed after lengthy rain delays. Must go!

Updated Sunday morning:

My husband offered to pay me a dollar if I'd take his turn putting the kid to bed so he could watch tennis. I fell asleep before the kid and missed the dramatic end to the S. Williams/Clijsters match. Oh, well. I still think Serena is a phenomenal athlete.

Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer crossword, "See You in September"

It's September, and the "See You" of the title can be read as "C.U."—the letters that begin the words in each two-word phrase in this theme. Although the entertainment oomph of such initials themes can be lacking, most of the phrases here qualify as lively fill. Merl being Merl, the top and bottom pairs of theme entries are stacked.
  • 19A. [Surrenders] clues CRIES UNCLE.
  • 23A. A fun [Drink addition] is a COCKTAIL UMBRELLA. If I get one of these umbrellas, I have to bring it home for my son. Kids love cocktail umbrellas and yet are not the usual market for cocktails. They should be milkshake umbrellas, not cocktail umbrellas.
  • 32A. I love the term COME UNGLUED, meaning [Fall apart]. Imagine if your arms were glued on but would fall off when you lost your composure.
  • 44A. CORNELL UNIVERSITY is the [Home of Big Red], the college team and not the chewing gum.
  • 57A. COFFEE URN? Boring. That's a [Catering need].
  • 69A. [Its 10 Down station is WILL]—and 10D is NPR—clues CHAMPAIGN-URBANA, home of my state's flagship school, the University of Illinois. My friend's sister-in-law is traveling to today's game to watch her nephew play. He's a freshman starter who passed up full scholarships to Stanford and a couple Ivies to play for Illinois, where his dad went.
  • 87A. CATCHES UP means [Pulls even].
  • 94A. CONDUCT UNBECOMING is a [1975 courtroom drama about Bengal Lancers]. I have no idea what that drama is (play? movie?), but highly recommend Randy Shilts' book Conduct Unbecoming: Gays and Lesbians in the U.S. Military.
  • 104A. [It makes low-interest loans] refers to a CREDIT UNION.
  • 123A. Hang on, I don't think CAFETERIA UNIFORM is "in the language." It's clued as a [Certain server's outfit].
  • 129A. A [Human being, in sci-fi movies], is a CARBON UNIT. Which sci-fi movies might those be?
I did this puzzle last night, so it's not fresh in my head and I can't think of anything else to say about it. Onward to other crosswords!

Pamela Amick Klawitter's syndicated Los Angeles Times crossword, "Rainbow Connection"

Whoa, nelly—the only Sunday puzzles I've finished this fast are Frank Longo's Premier King crossword and the Newsday puzzles. The sixth clue I read was for RED HERRING, and with the title, I skipped to the next long answer and filled in the ORANGE through INDIGO theme entries right away. Didn't see the VIOLET one and couldn't have filled that in with no crossings, but it made a huge difference to have the theme entries anchoring large swaths of the grid. Here are the theme answers:
  • 49D. [Mnemonic for this puzzle's theme] is ROY G. BIV.
  • 22A. [Fake footprint at the murder scene, e.g.] is a RED HERRING.
  • 28A. [Tea type] is ORANGE PEKOE. Yum!
  • 33A. [Coward, slangily] is a YELLOW-BELLY.
  • 66A. [Anne's home, in a 1908 Montgomery classic] is GREEN GABLES.
  • 98A. Another term for [Aristocratic] is BLUE-BLOODED.
  • 107A. ["Closer to Fine" folk-rock duo] are INDIGO GIRLS, of Wordplay fame.
  • 115A. The [Ponytailed pal of Lucy Van Pelt, in "Peanuts"] is named VIOLET GRAY. I sure didn't know that last name.
Not all of the fill was so easy (particularly the lesser-known names in the grid), but the color spectrum theme was a romp in a way very few themes are. It's kinda fun (sometimes, not all the time) to have a puzzle that's markedly easier than the norm, isn't it?

Paula Gamache's themeless CrosSynergy "Sunday Challenge"

This grid's anchored by the four 14-letter answers that criss-cross around the center square. (Do you see the spirit of Paul Lynde in that black square?) Today, though, let's focus on the entries that evoke other languages.
  • Latin: 44A: [Final episode of a Monday-Friday miniseries] is PART V. Roman numeral! 56A: [Coach Parseghian] is named ARA, which is also the Latin name of the constellation known as the Altar. 9D: ECCE ["___ homo"], that's Latin too. 15D: IN LOCO PARENTIS is [How a babysitter may act (Latin)]. LOCO refers to location, not craziness, in Latin. 60D: Today's random 60D: [Mid sixth-century date] is DLI, or 551 in Roman numerals.
  • Spanish: 7A: [Guadalajara greeting] is QUE PASA. Terrific entry, that.
  • Italian: 37A: [Stella ___ (Italian food brand)] is D'ORO. The company name means "star of gold" in Italian.
  • French: 20A: SALIC [___ law (early Frankish legal code)] is a French historical term. I'm guessing the Franks themselves (back in the sixth century—see 60D!) had a different form of the word; the modern French call it loi salique. 32A: ILE [___ de la Cité (where Notre Dame de Paris stands] is fairly common crosswordese French, as is 51A: ETRE, clued by way of [Raison d'___]. 13D: [Fictional gentleman thief Lupin] has a French name, ARSENE. 24D: TARTE [___ Tatin (French apple dessert)] is probably tasty.
  • German: 8D: [German connector] is UND, meaning "and."
  • e-Crosswordese: 22A: ENOTE is clued as a [Cybermemo]. This word and ETAIL don't seem to have much traction in the real world.

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February 14, 2009

Sunday, 2/15

BG 8:27
NYT 8:22
PI 7:18
LAT 6:47
CS 4:43

Happy half-birthday (the 42½th) to baseball player Scott Brosius! He and I are the same age. Watch out for the crossword about us in the year 2166.

Jim Leeds' New York Times crossword is called "Double-O Seven" because there are seven theme entries in which an O has been doubled to change the meaning of a phrase. Double-O is inherently a fun letter combo, if you ask me—that's why I'm so tempted to change "dude" into "dood." And look at the double double-O words— boo-boo, choo-choo, doo-doo, The Goo Goo Dolls, "koo koo ka choo," the Teletubbies' Noonoo, pooh-pooh, Scooby-Doo, "The Shoop-Shoop Song," too-too, Cubs fan Ronnie "Woo Woo" Wickers. OO is gOOd stuff, I'm telling yoo.

Here are the theme entries:

  • [Numbskull who likes Macintosh computers?] is a BOOB FOR APPLES.
  • [Entrees for oilman Pickens?] are T. BOONE STEAKS.
  • In the middle of the grid, three theme entries are stacked together. [Between a dozen and a score of Disney creations?] is SIXTEEN TOONS. [Overexposure or redeye?] is a PHOTO OOPS. [South Carolina Gamecocks?] are TEAM ROOSTERS.
  • [Kids' whistles and horns?] are TOYS FOR TOOTS.
  • [Place to sit by the highway?] is a ROADSIDE STOOP.
Let's take a look-see. What else is in this puzzle?
  • [Some people dress in them in the winter] clues LAYERS. I see the signs that spring will come, but I'm still stuck in LAYERS for the time being.
  • The [Poetry movement of Ezra Pound] is IMAGISM.
  • WAR ACE sounds awkward to me. That's one sort of [Military hero].
  • OVERDID looks lonesome without a trailing it. The clue is [Exercised too much].
  • The crossword's favorite young salamandery amphibians, EFTS, are clued as [Reddish-orange creatures].
  • CAYS make up [A lot of the Bahamas]. I wouldn't mind being on Disney's Bahamian CAY again, what with not needing to dress in layers there.
  • YAW is a [Rocket measure] of twisting or movement around a vertical axis.
  • [Fox News anchor Pemmaraju] challenges actress Thurman's dominion in the crossword. They form a Notable UMAs Club of two.
  • Two very weird "jobs" show up at the bottom of the puzzle. SEEDMAN is a [Planter] and AURIST is [One treating disorders of the ear]. I don't know agricultural terminology, but I'm pretty darned certain that you won't find an otologist or otolaryngologist who will admit to being an "aurist."
  • ICE FOG is an [Arctic weather phenomenon].
  • Usually crosswords seem to consider Thai to be the [Spicy cuisine] of choice. INDIAN is a good bit spicier, and so is Mexican.
  • [Gray location?] is the hair ROOTS if you've been coloring your hair to camouflage the gray.
  • I wish PEORIA had been clued as [Caterpillar's home] rather than [Home of Caterpillar] to fool people.
  • [It "never won any battle," according to Eisenhower] refers to PESSIMISM.
  • [Bookbinding leather], 4 letters? Gotta be ROAN. And no, I don't think this has anything to do with roan coloring of horses.
  • NAXOS is the [Largest of the Cyclades]. There's an opera, isn't there, called Ariadne auf Naxos?
  • ATTO is [Quintillionth: Prefix].
  • [All people, according to the Bible] are SINNERS. Hey! Speak for yourself, Bible.
  • [European boundary river] is the ODER. Which boundary? The border between Poland and Germany.
  • [It's nice when checks have lots of them] clues ZEROES. I have a friend who's just pleased when every paycheck has a comma in it.
  • AREOLE is usually clued as a cactus's areola thing, but this time it's a [Space on a butterfly's wing].
Updated:

Pamela Awick Klawitter's syndicated Sunday Los Angeles Times crossword (which is not the one in the LA Times itself, but a crossword syndicated to other papers) is called "Snake in the Grass" because there's an ASP (107-Down) hiding in seven long theme answers. For example, SARATOGA SPRINGS is a [New York city with a famous racetrack] and SEA SPRAY is a [Windy day phenomenon near the shore].

Among the less familiar answers and trickier clues in this puzzle's non-theme fill are:
  • TANA, or [Lake ___, source of the Blue Nile].
  • ["Tennis Is My Racket" autobiographer] is Bobby RIGGS—probably not one of the five leading crossword-fill tennis players. Arthur ASHE is more commonly seen, as is ILIE Nastase, [Rival of Bjorn] Borg.
  • [Par ___: on the ground] is the French TERRE. I haven't seen that phrase before.
  • [Bk. after Ezra] is NEH., short for Nehemiah. It crosses a tricky clue for TEA, [Wonderland spot] as in "a spot of tea."
  • [First part of Miller's "The Rosy Crucifixion"] is SEXUS. Henry Miller's two follow-ups are Plexus and Nexus.
  • [Little men in the front row] are chess PAWNS. At first I was picturing the front row at a movie theater.
  • [Some oil barons] are SHEIKHS. The sheik spelling shows up more often in crosswords.
  • [One throwing things, maybe] is a RAGER, though someone who's raging is seldom ever called a "rager."
  • REWET is clued as [Keep on dunking]. Wait, doesn't the dunkee have to dry off before it can be re-wet?
  • ANTIBES is a [Cote d'Azur resort].
Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer crossword, "Literally Speaking," interprets common idiomatic phrases as if the speaker tacked on the word "literally," without regard for the inaptness of using "literally" in that setting. Misuse of "literally" is one of my pet peeves, so this theme was right up my alley. Here are my favorite theme answers:
  • GLUED TO THE TV finishes ["I was literally ___!" (Really? Could you still see?)].
  • BURNING UP fills in the blank in ["I was literally ___!" (I thought I smelled something cooking!)].
  • SITTING DUCKS is the answer to ["We were literally ___!" (Why didn't you just fly away then?)].
  • BLOWN AWAY finishes ["I was literally ___!" (Was it hurricane season?)].
If you want to read more about "literally" and its long history of being used as an intensifier in non-literal ways, check out Jesse Sheidlower's Slate article, "The Word We Love To Hate."

Bob Klahn's CrosSynergy "Sunday Challenge" isn't as challenging as the typical Klahn themeless. Favorite clues/fill:
  • [Relief providers, perhaps] are relief MAPS, not EMTs.
  • [Land shaped like a boot] is ARABIA rather than Italia. Really? Hmm, the Arabian Peninsula does look like a snow boot.
  • [Salt deposit?] is a TEAR drop.
  • Anne [Frank account?] is a DIARY.
  • One type of [Bar challenge?] is to do the LIMBO under a pole.
  • [They're downwardly mobile] clues SKIERS. With several letters in place, I opted for SEWERS.
  • TOOK A BATH is a metaphor meaning, metaphorically, [Lost one's shirt]. Either way, you lost some money there.
  • Music history: WORK SONGS [became the foundation for the blues], and ARTIE SHAW was a [Gramercy Five Swing Era clarinetist].
Unfavorite clues/fill:
  • TOO LARGE is clued [With a lot to lose]. "Too large" doesn't strike me as an in-the-language phrase meaning "overweight."
  • STARSHIP are the dreadful ["We Built This City" pop-rockers]. Completely fine as fill, 100% accurate clue—but abysmal song.
  • [Flower from the French Alps] is the RHONE, a river that is a flow-er. I've finally reached my limit for flow-er clues, I think.
The previously published Boston Globe crossword now available in Across Lite is Emily Cox and Henry Rathvon's "Search Party." The theme is HIDDEN GEMS, with various gems and semiprecious stones hidden within longer, made-up phrases (see the squares I've highlighted for the gems and stones). The theme feels like a retread because I'd enjoyed Dan Naddor's LAT puzzle with the same sort of theme just two weeks ago. Actually the Globe version of that theme combines real phrases—e.g., DROP A LINE, BAGATELLES—with goofy ones—e.g., MAMET HYSTERIA, NONSTOP AZALEAS—so it feels uneven. Naddor went the full-goofball approach, which I think was more fun.

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January 10, 2009

Sunday, 1/11

NYT 10:34
BG 8:52
LAT 8:15
PI 7:32
CS 3:07

(updated at 11:50 Sunday morning)

On January 20, Barack Obama will take the oath of office and become the 44th president of the United States. Remember the election a couple months back? Yeah, Obama won a lot of states, and those states' 2-letter postal abbreviations all appear in single squares in David Kahn's New York Times crossword, "Making History." There are seven symmetrical entries relating to the theme, all with one or more rebus squares, along with scattered other states (not placed geographically) needed to represent STATES WON BY BARACK OBA[MA] / [IN] THE PRESI[DE]NT[IA]L ELE[CT]ION. Throughout the grid are other bits of presidentially oriented fill—CONG., POLLERS, OATH, a couple United Nations references, and the 1840s first family the TYLERS. Here are the official theme entries besides the two longest ones already mentioned:

  • HA[IL] TO THE C[HI]EF is the [Song with the lyric "We salute him, one and all].
  • A[ME][RI][CA]N [FL]AGS are [Patriotic displays] with four hidden state abbreviations.
  • The chief justice of the Supreme Court swears in the president. J[OH][N J]AY was the nation's [First U.S. chief justice].
  • The O[VA]L OFFICE is a [White House tour highlight].
  • Many a [Political insider] was a [CO][NV]ENTION-GOER.
This puzzle wasn't easy, and it would have been nefariously tough without the circled squares marking the location of each rebus square. Added elegance comes from the absence of any other state abbreviations outside of the circled squares in the theme entries. The rest of the grid has a few non-rebused LAs, MAs, and ARs, but that's fine. Assorted other answers and clues:
  • HIP-HOP feels fresh in the grid. The clue is the straightforwardly synonymous [Rap].
  • E[NC]HASE is clued [Set, as a gem]. Raise your hand if this word was unfamiliar to you, too.
  • [Wyoming Senator Mike] ENZI is a bit thematic, I guess. I needed all the crossings to identify him.
  • [Green's songwriting partner in old musicals] was Betty CO[MD]EN—again, didn't know her, used the crossings. (Thanks for the ID, Zulema.) David Kahn isn't known for being an easy constructor, after all. I hope everyone working this puzzle knows Comden or the Internet Movie Database, I[MD]B. the [Popular film Web site, briefly] because if they don't, ouch.
  • The crossword clue [Organic compounds] screams ENOLS, doesn't it? Ah, my old crosswordese friend. I knew I could count on you.
  • My favorite clue is [Record holder?] for a FELON.
  • [Like many campgrounds at night] clues FIRELIT. And here I was trying to choose between MOONLIT and STARLIT.
  • THE DEAD is a noted [James Joyce short story]. Snow, anyone? I have plenty.
  • [Nobel physicist Tamm] is named IG[OR]. Another only-through-the-crossings answer for me.
  • I don't know my [Old German rocket]s at all. This one's a [V-T]WO.
  • [Country singer Black] is named CL[IN]T. In the NYT applet, I typed only the first letter of each state abbreviation in the circled square, leaving a little surprise in that completed puzzle.
  • Some [Numbers?] numb you up: OP[IA]TES.

Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer crossword, "4-N Relations," has a trivia theme: people (and one creature) who have four N's in their names. Merl being Merl, there are two pairs of stacked entries among the ennead, and if you think it's no big deal to put a 13-letter name on top of a 20-letter name and have workable crossings throughout, give it a whirl yourself. I'm guessing it's quite difficult because it's not done too often. The theme itself is pretty dry, with straight-up factual clues. For example, ["The Great Commoner"] was WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN, QUENTIN TARANTINO [plays Jimmie in "Pulp Fiction"], and BENJAMIN FRANKLIN is easy to get as [$100 figure?] since the note is slangily called a Benjamin. Two of the people are fictional characters, as is FRANKENSTEIN'S MONSTER.

Updated:

Pamela Amick Klawitter's syndicated Sunday Los Angeles Times crossword, "Spread the Wealth," spreads an ATM (120-Down) across two words in each of nine theme answers:
  • My favorite is "YOU LOOKIN' AT ME?"—[Fightin' words].
  • [Dieter's dairy choice] is LOW-FAT MILK. I hesitated on the beginning—NONFAT or LOWFAT?
  • [Regardless] clues COME WHAT MAY.
  • E FLAT MINOR is the [Key of Prokofiev's Symphony No. 6].
  • They ask "Who is THAT MASKED MAN?" about [The Lone Ranger, after riding off].
  • MEERKAT MANOR is an [Animal show set in the Kalahari]. I haven't seen this. Is it fun?
  • [Quicker picker-upper?] of..."your vocal fold vibrations (phonation)" is a THROAT MIKE (or mic, short for microphone). I had no idea. Does everyone else know about these things?
  • MEAT MARKET is clued as a [Chop shop?].
  • BAT MASTERSON was a [Friend of Wyatt Earp].
Henry Hook's Boston Globe crossword, "Iron-Ons," originally ran in the Globe on 11/23/08. The seven theme entries are formed by adding the chemical symbol for iron, Fe, to the beginning of familiar phrases. My favorite examples:
  • FEED MCMAHON is clued [Don't let an announcer starve]. If you missed the news last year, it was Donald Trump who stepped in with an offer to bail out Ed McMahon.
  • [Hitcher's punisher?] is FERULE OF THUMB. Hook's not afraid to toss in a vocabulary word to make a theme entry work. (A ferule is a flat ruler intended for hitting children (really! the dictionary says so), and a ferrule is the metal tube that anchors the eraser to a pencil.)
  • Speaking of high-end vocabulary, FEOFF BROADWAY is a [Feudal estate in NYC?]. I suspect feoff = fief, but I haven't seen that spelling before. One could argue that it's too obscure for a Sunday crossword, but I think it works here.
  • [Genetic cause of campiness?] clues FEY CHROMOSOME, building on "Y chromosome." Cute!
Well, I know which is this week's easiest themeless puzzle—it's gotta be Martin Ashwood-Smith's CrosSynergy "Sunday Challenge." The triple-stacked 15's run vertically this time, with two more 15's crossing them horizontally. Though I had not heard of A CHILD IS WAITING, the [Judy Garland movie of 1963], the crossings all over this puzzle facilitated the filling in of, well, everything. The first or second answer I put down was BINOCULAR VISION, which is [Cyclops's lack], and the rest spun out from there. My favorite clue here is [Diamond Gil]. It plays on "Diamond Lil" but refers to baseball's Gil HODGES, the baseball diamond being where the game is played.

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December 30, 2008

Wednesday, 12/31

Tausig 4:30
LAT 4:10
NYT 4:06 by the time I found the typo
Sun 3:59
Onion 3:35
CS 3:15

(updated at 10:30 Wednesday morning)

Hey! I just reserved my room at the Brooklyn Bridge Marriott and booked my flight for the 2009 American Crossword Puzzle Tournament. The Friday evening program includes a panel about crossword blogging. Listen, don't ask me hard questions if you want me to look smart, okay? (Ridiculously hard questions for the other folks are fine, of course.) Thanks. I hope to see many of you in Brooklyn!

Tim Wescott's New York Times crossword has a foursome of 15-letter entries, but those aren't exactly the theme answers—rather, the theme lies within the first letter of each and a trio of letters in the middle. The center of the grid has a WWW, [Letters after two slashes]. The first letters of the four 15's spell out HTTP, or hypertext transfer protocol. The circled letters within each 15 are a web domain:

  • [Feel like quarreling about something] clues HAVE A BONE TO PICK.
  • [No halfway effort] is TOTAL COMMITMENT. This phrase seems like a weird choice for a crossword answer.
  • [Basis of a false arrest, perhaps] is a TRUMPED-UP CHARGE.
  • [Going past the fourth quarter, say] clues PLAYING OVERTIME. "In overtime" is what I'd say, not "playing overtime."
I like the visual twist of the theme, but would be happier if the 15's were more unimpeachable as crossword fill and if the 3-letter domains were all split across answer words.

I blew a half minute or so in the applet by typing DUKE instead of [Dick Van ___] DYKE. Dang those adjacent-key typos that yield plausible words in one direction! Toughest answer in the grid: YAKUT, or [Native of NE Siberia]. Those Yakut folks are thousands of miles from the URALS, a [Range extending south from the Kara Sea]. Biggest duplication: ONE P.M. is a [Common lunch hr.], while U.S. ONE is an [Auto route from Me. to Fla.]. Tastiest answer: GUMBO, clued as [Okra stew]; my husband just polished off the last of Sunday's carryout gumbo from Heaven on Seven. Favorite answers: SKORTS are [Women's hybrid clothing], the spork of fashion; and SCREWY means [Off the wall].

Do you know how many 4-letter words there are for your rear end? In Patrick Blindauer's Sun crossword, "Rear Ends," he's taken six 4-letter rears and split them in half, putting 2 letters at each end of a longer phrase:
  • [Belmont Park statue subject] is the horse SECRETARIAT, which is embraced by a SE AT.
  • [Farm laborer] clues HIRED HAND, with a HIND.
  • TUNA FISH is a [Melt ingredient] and is bracketed by a TUSH.
  • DUSTS OFF means [Takes out for use after a period of inactivity]. DUFF is also the beer brand on The Simpsons.
  • Lou Costello's ["Pardon My Sarong" costar] is BUD ABBOTT, who lives inside a BUTT.
  • To RUBBERSTAMP is to [Endorse without question], clasped by RUMP.
The British prat and arse are left out, as are the assorted 3-, 5-, 6-, and 7-letter synonyms. Twenty points to Patrick for working in six theme entries without forcing untoward compromises in fill. A bonus of 5 points for BUMPPO, or [Natty of literature]. I don't know what James Fenimore Cooper was thinking when he came up with that character name for The Last of the Mohicans. (You're picturing Daniel Day-Lewis in his flowing locks promising "I will find you!" now, aren't you?)

This is the week for butt themes, apparently, because Ben Tausig's Ink Well/Chicago Reader crossword, "Bum Deal," is also fixated on the hindquarters. The term ASS BACKWARDS holds the key here: The other three theme answers contain synonyms for your rear end (or maybe somebody else's) backwards. To wit:
  • [Rocker's plectrum] hits us up with some guitar vocabulary—that's a GUITAR PICK. The word PRAT appears backwards within it.
  • Comedian DANA CARVEY is Wayne's World's [Garth Algar, in real life]. He's got a CAN facing the wrong way.
  • Turn around a TEST-TUBE BABY, or [Conception breakthrough of the 1970s], to find a BUTT.
ASS BACKWARDS is definitely "in the language" these days, but would be verboten in your standard daily crossword puzzle. I'm glad we have these other indie xwords opening up new angles in puzzling.
(Whoops, that's last week's puzzle, and Angela blogged it last week, and I did actually read that post.)

Highlights in the clues and fill:
  • SPIRO is clued as [Agnew whose name has at least two famous anagrams]. Hmm, I had to Google this. They're "grow a spine" and "grow a penis."
  • [Cambodian tongue] is KHMER. That mash-up of consonants looks wrong until you figure out the answer.
  • [Southern rapper Young ___] JEEZY doesn't get much play on the crossword page. Definitely a better name than Natty Bumppo.
  • The MINK is a [Muskrat eater]? Who knew? The Captain and Tennille's "Muskrat Love" didn't warn of the mink menace, did it?
  • I didn't know YAHTZEE was a [Yahoo! Games staple]. Are there any other double-Yah__ combos out there?
  • BEAVIS, of Beavis & Butthead fame, is the [Cornholio alter ego].
Deb Amlen celebrates New Year's Eve in her Onion A.V. Club crossword. Deb groups four staples of the evening, pairs them with various beginning words, and gives them holiday clues. You have a toast at a party, the Waterford ball drops in Times Square, and people make resolutions for the coming year:
  • [New Year's hair-of-the-dog breakfast?] is CHAMPAGNE TOAST. The original NYE thing is a champagne toast, so this theme entry feels a bit off to me. Is this TOAST toasted bread at breakfast?
  • [New Year's soiree that brings in the bucks?] is a STAG PARTY. Stags are male deer, or bucks. Most NYE parties are not stag parties—maybe in Boystown they are.
  • [New Year's item "'dropped" in a brothel?] is a BEN WA BALL. If you don't know what that means, I will leave the Googling to you. Be forewarned, it's a sex thing and highly unlikely to be mentioned in the New York Times.
  • [New Year's promise made to one's self while stoned?] is a HIGH RESOLUTION. High-resolution images are crisp and clear. Usage question: Shouldn't that be "oneself"?
Favorite clues:
  • ["Schyah!"] means the exclamation AS IF.
  • BEAKER is [Dr. Bunsen Honeydew's assistant at Muppet Labs].
  • "ZING!" is a [Possibly sarcastic joke response].
  • Captain AHAB is that ["Grand, ungodly, godlike man" of fiction]. Who doesn't like a non-Omoo Melville reference? 
Updated:

Ben Tausig's Ink Well/Chicago Reader puzzle for this week is called "Chasing Out the Rats." 2008 was the Year of the Rat, and 2009 will be the YEAR OF THE OX. That joins six other theme entries that end with OX:
  • MAGNAVOX is a [Blu-ray player maker]. Our new Sony PlayStation 3 also plays Blu-ray disks.
  • SLYLOCK FOX is a [Mysatery-solving comic strip character]. Who? I haven't seen this before.
  • The PENALTY BOX is [Where one goes after slashing].
  • DEWEY COX is John C. Reilly's ["Walk Hard" protagonist]. Is that movie worth seeing?
  • The RED SOX are a [Team owned by the New York Times, oddly]. How did I not know that? Hmm, could be my complete lack of interest in the Red Sox.
  • FT. KNOX is a [U.S. city with tons of expensive bars] of gold.
Other good stuff:
  • MYSPACE is a [Notoriously busy-looking site]. Facebook is much crisper, less appalling to grown-ups.
  • I like that BULL drops into the OX crossword, though it's clued as a [Vatican decree].
  • UNISEX is clued with [Like the name Blake]. Yep, that works.
  • This week's "music clue I didn't know at all" is [Johnny Rotten's post-Sex Pistols project, for short]. The answer is PIL. That's Public Image Ltd., or PiL. I think this was in another indie crossword in recent months, so I should remember it.
  • BOK CHOY looks tasty in the grid; it's a [Stir fry ingredient].
  • ["When is this thing over?"] clues a bored YAWN.
Pamela Amick Klawitter's LA Times crossword has APB'S, or [Emer. broadcasts (and this puzzle's hidden theme)] parked within the four theme entries. I was led astray by the theme answers all starting with S, though SNAP, SOAP, SCRAP, and SAP don't rhyme and have varying letter counts, so I was confused. The theme entries are:
  • SNAP BEANS, or [Casserole legumes]. I have never called green beans "snap beans." Nor have I eaten green bean casserole.
  • SOAP BOX DERBY is an [Annual world championship competition held in Akron].
  • SCRAPBOOKING is the [Subject of the how-to book "Keeping Memories Alive." I prefer to store the memories in my brain. Much less hassle that way.
  • SAP BUCKET is a [Sugar shack vessel]. I think this is maple sap and a sugar shack's where syrup gets its start. Mmm, maple syrup.
Who doesn't love those [Mythological vengeance deities] known as the FURIES? The [Rodent yielding the fur nutria] is, as luck would have it, called the nutria. It is also called the COYPU. The scientific name of this "large semiaquatic beaverlike rodent" is Myocaster coypus. The word coypu is from the Araucanian (an Indian language family from Chile and Argentina). [Hawaii's "Gathering Place"] is OAHU.

Randolph Ross's CrosSynergy puzzle, "Count Me In," counts in a ME to change each theme entry's base phrase into something new:
  • [Contests in which little energy is expended?] are INERT GAMES. We see INERT gases used as dull fill often enough—it's good to extract more value from it by playing around with it.
  • [Milne's marsupial lover?] is KANGAROMEO. Kangaroo + ME = Roo's mom Kanga + Romeo. Good play.
  • [Get-together of Mr. Universe contestants?] is a HE-MEN PARTY. Nice expansion of hen party.
  • [Scarsdale and South Beach?] are FAMED DIETS and also fad diets, with or without the ME.
This theme type isn't an innovative one, no, but I admire the deft execution of a standard theme variety. The crossword is improved further by lots of longist fill—a NERF BALL crossing SELF-HELP, DODDERS crossing Lou DOBBS, a TANGRAM [Puzzle with geometric shapes], and a STOGIE, for instance. I'm also partial to the [German name for Cologne], KOLN (Köln, actually). I appreciate it when those high-school German classes come in handy.

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December 06, 2008

Sunday, 12/7

NYT 9:32
PI 9:31
LAT 8:00
CS 4:12

(updated at 12:45 Sunday afternoon)

Hey, if you can swing it financially and logistically, I encourage you to go pick out a "Dear Santa" letter at your post office and make a kid or family's holiday brighter. 'Tis the season, yadda yadda.

The New York Times crossword by Jim Page is called "Hey!" because each theme entry contains PSST embedded in it. PSST gets across the same point as YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE...only the short one's more one-on-one while the long one's addressed to a crowd. Here are the hidden PSST answers, all verb phrases:

  • [Distinguishes] is KEEPS STRAIGHT.
  • [Does a hostler's work] is SWEEPS STALLS. Who doesn't love hostlers?
  • [Participates in a bear market] is DUMPS STOCKS.
  • [Plays at a pond, in a way] is SKIPS STONES.
  • [Engages in some mutual gossip] is SWAPS STORIES.
  • [Commits knitting boo-boos] is DROPS STITCHES.
There are a number of entries that felt a bit like nails on a chalkboard, less crossword-worthy than the other answers. EYE UP is [Examine covetously]; I know eyeing and I know looking one up and down, but I've never heard anyone use "eye up." [Seconds, say] is SOME MORE. I REFUSE is clued as [Stubborn response]. SALT LAKES are [Some landlocked bodies of water; it's in the dictionary, but I'm not a scientist who deals with salt lakes categorically, so it sounds awkward in the plural. [Like many root vegetables for the winter] is STORABLE. DITMARS is a [Queens neighborhood near La Guardia]; perhaps this is well-known to NYC solvers, but I'd never heard of it. THE LOT is [Everything]; I'm torn as to whether this is a good use of a definite article or not. SAID OK is [Caved in]. I think some of these wouldn't have caught my attention if EYE UP and SOME MORE hadn't triggered the "hey, is that kosher fill?" reflex—and if a few other NYT puzzles in the last week or two hadn't also put me on alert.

Things I liked:
  • The [Olympics no-no] is DOPING.
  • FRICASSEE is a [Chicken dish].
  • Did you know U.S. DOLLARS were the [Medium of OPEC transactions]? Those quoted prices for a barrel of oil apparently aren't being converted from euros, dinars, or riyals.
  • POSEURS are [Frauds] and SCHLEPS means [Lugs]—simple clues, colorful answers.
  • The EXIT ROW is a [Plane seating specification]
  • Two answers begin with the same 6 letters. SCRAP IRON is [Junkyard junk] and SCRAPING is [Removing, as paint]. Etymologically, scrape and scrap are akin, but I never knew that until looking the words up in a dictionary just now.
Tough stuff:
  • CAPELLA is the [Brightest star in Auriga, from the Latin for "little she-goat"]. I don't know why I entered CAPRICA first.
  • MINIMI are your [Little fingers]. I'm sticking with pinkies, thanks.
  • APODAL is clued as [Lacking limbs] or more specifically, lacking feet.
  • SMOLTS are [Silvery salmon].
  • YSIDRO is clued [San ___, locale just north of Tijuana, Mexico].
  • JANSEN is clued as the [Dutch artist Theo]. Never heard of him before, but I'm glad the puzzle introduced him to me. Here's his website. He makes large-scale sculptures, kinetic and skeletal, including giant beach animals. This artist outranks Olympic speed-skater Dan Jansen in a Google search for jansen, so I guess he's a big deal. (And deservedly so.)
Updated Saturday night:

Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer puzzle, "Girlfriends," has a really fun theme if you groove on that sort of wordplay (as I do). There are a whopping 12 theme entries, with four of them placed in stacked pairs as is Merl's wont. Each one's the name of a "girlfriend," with familiar first and last names combined to make solid puns, the meanings of which are reflected by the clues:
  • [Girlfriend who's always trying to figure you out?] is ANNA LISZT, which sounds like analyst.
  • [Girlfriend who curses a lot?] is CONSTANCE WARING (constant swearing).
  • [Girlfriend who's looking for an apartment?] is LISA FLATT (lease a flat).
  • [Girlfriend who's going out soon?] is TAMARA KNIGHT (tomorrow night).
  • [Girlfriend who sings?] is SARAH NADER (serenader).
  • [Girlfriend who's short on culture and proud of it?] is PHYLLIS DEAN (philistine). I laughed at this one.
  • [Girlfriend who doesn't believe in leashes?] is LUCINDA STREET (loose in the street).
  • [Girlfriend who collects surreal art?] is DOLLY PRINCE (Dali prints).
  • [Brooklyn girlfriend who gave up skiing?] is DENISE HURT (da knees hurt).
  • [Girlfriend who has better things to do?] is CANDICE WAITE ("Can this wait?").
  • [French girlfriend?] is MONA MOORE (mon amour).
  • [Girlfriend who owns a dealership?] is MINNIE VAN SAYLES (minivan sales). This one works less well, as "Van" should be followed by something Dutch rather than an English name.
  • [Real-life TV host who does everything you ask?] is WILLOW BAY (will obey). I'm guessing that Merl noticed Ms. Bay's name sounded like a phrase and began playing around with other phrases that could sound like names.
With 127 theme squares, there's really not all that much room for more cruciverbal bling. A few unusual answers caught my eye:
  • OCELLI are [Eyespots on peacock feathers]. This answer crosses two of the theme entries and I guess there weren't all that many choices for words that would fit the ***L*I pattern. Maybe AMALFI, SHALL I, POLLOI, COULD I, and WOULD I didn't lend themselves to a good corner.
  • A [Bridge bid] is TWO NO. Much more often, a crossword will have the palindromic ONE NO. This answer crosses two theme entries.
  • [Orlando sports venue, to locals (it's where the Magic play] is the O-RENA. This one's sandwiched between two themers.
  • [Has ___ for detail (is bad at jigsaw puzzles, e.g.] clues NO EYE. Again, this one crosses two theme answers.

Updated:

Pamela Amick Klawitter's syndicated Sunday Los Angeles Times crossword is called "...And So On" because each of the eight theme entries has an ETC hidden within its midst. Two of the theme answers are caffeinated elixirs of life:
  • DIET COCA COLA is my poison, and it's clued as [Tab challenger if 1982].
  • GOURMET COFFEE may come from [Gevalia or Kona].
Two are computer-related terms:
  • INTERNET CAFE is [Where to have 23-Across and surf], 23-Across being GOURMET COFFEE.
  • An ETHERNET CABLE is an [Online hookup]. I wonder if anyone tried to enter MATCH.COMDATE here.
Two are monetary:
  • BUDGET CRISIS is a [Financial deadlock].
  • POCKET CHANGE is a [Jingling assortment].
And two...have words that begin with S and C:
  • STREET CRED is clued as [Hip-hop rep]. Great crossword entry.
  • SECRET CODE is a [Cryptographer's creation].
I solved this puzzle late last night, so I don't remember what struck me among the clues and fill. Let's take a quick look... [Triangular game accessory] is a billiards RACK; I racked my brains trying to picture a triangular board game accessory. The rest of the puzzle was smooth—nothing super-fancy, nothing too iffy, no clues that stretched things too far.

With his themeless CrosSynergy "Sunday Challenge" crossword, Rich Norris demonstrates once again that he is one of the masters of the themeless form. I would've enjoyed tougher clues, sure, but look at the quality of the fill:
  • HITS HOME is a lively phrase that means [Affects one directly].
  • KIBOSH is a [Figurative end]. (Scrabbly K.)
  • JON LOVITZ was a [1985-'90 "Saturday Night Live" regular]. (Scrabbly J, V, Z.)
  • QUIRKY means [Offbeat]. (Scrabbly Q, K.)
  • Tasty PINE NUT is a [Pesto ingredient].
  • TWIST TIE is a [Flexible closer].
  • PHARAOH, the [Exodus tyrant], has an unusual AO letter sequence.
  • SKELETON KEY is clued as [Burglary aid]. (Scrabbly K's.)
  • PRESQUE ISLE is a [Lake Erie state park]. (Scrabbly Q.)
  • Jocular NOHOW is clued as [Never].
Favorite clues:
  • [Lille buddy] is an AMI. Do you hear the Skipper calling Gilligan "li'l buddy"? I do.
  • [Downslope Alpine wind that threatens climbers] is FOEHN. The linked article lists other wind names, some more crossword-friendly than others. The foehn or föhn is akin to the chinook off the Rockies. Those are diabatic winds, whatever that means, and the katabatic winds include others with cool names—the mistral, the bora, the williwaw, and the more familiar Santa Ana winds of California. Now I want to see WILLIWAW in a crossword. (Anyone else a little bit of a wind geek? No? Just me?)
  • The [Online party notice] called an EVITE is a trade name. Other E-words that have a life outside of "words that bail crossword constructors out of tight spots" include E-FILE, E-MAIL, EBAY, and maybe E-TAIL. (I could do without EZINE, ENOTE, ECASH, and EMAG.)
  • Some [Clue interpreters] are SLEUTHS. Others are merely crossword solvers.
  • [It took seconds to arrange them] refers to DUELS.

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October 18, 2008

Sunday, 10/19

LAT 8:30
PI 7:55
NYT 7:47
BG 7:12
CS 3:50

Split Decisions, Second Sunday NYT puzzle 9:27

(updated at 9:25 a.m. Sunday)

I only saw half of the theme in Joe DiPietro's New York Times crossword, "Perjury." I saw the hidden OATH tucked inside all the long entries, but it wasn't until I reached 112-Across that I learned of the other half: [Perjure oneself ... or what can be found six times in this puzzle] clues LIE UNDER OATH, and below each of those five hidden OATHs, the word LIE appears.
CAN'T DO A THING, or [Is completely hamstrung], sits above LIE OVER, or [Completely cover]. The LIE portion is under OATH.

  • MY THROAT HURTS is a [Cold sufferer's complaint] (yep, I'm there), and the OATH is above BELIE, or [Contradict].
  • SEMI-PRO ATHLETES are [Part-time players], and that answer is paired with PURLIEU, or [Confines].
  • THE ROAD TO ATHENS, or [Title of some 2004 Summer Olympics preview shows], is partnered with LIENS, or [Security agreements].
  • OAT HAYS, [Certain feeds for horses], sits atop the LIE in explanatory theme entry, LIE UNDER OATH—and it took me a while to see that OATH.
  • The SHOWBOAT HOTEL, an [Atlantic City casino], appears above FLIED OUT, or [Batted the ball too high, perhaps].
The visual rebus aspect of the theme is cool—"lie under oath" is represented by LIE beneath the word OATH, making it a far more intricate theme than one with just an embedded word.

Here's today's assortment of answers and clues:
  • LECTIN is a [Carbohydrate-binding protein]. Did anyone get that answer with fewer than three crossings?
  • [Stream bank sliders] are OTTERS. Doesn't that clue sound like it should be sports jargon? "Ripken's specialty, of course, is the stream bank slider."
  • [Stomach section] is the PIT. Anatomically, I'm not so sure this is a thing, but metaphorically and emotionally, sure, it works.
  • [Ballet's Markova or Alonso] is ALICIA. ALICIA doesn't sound like it matches the Russian-seeming Markova. Ah, because it doesn't. She was English, born Lilian Alicia Marks.
  • [IV to III, maybe] is a SON. I know a guy whose wife is pregnant with a boy, and he's excited because the kid'll be Henry VI or XXIII or something. A long line of Henrys in the family...
  • [Not quite boiling] means the pot is ON SIMMER.
  • SOW'S EAR is a weird entry. It's gettable with its clue, [It's not a silk purse source, it's said].
  • [High society] is BON TON. That's a department store somewhere, isn't it?
  • RETEST is an [Opportunity to go beyond the first grade?], as in getting a new grade on the same exam.
  • [Child's attention-getting call to a parent] is HEY, MOM. Yep, I hear that one a lot.
  • WRAP PARTIES, or [Cast events after filming is done], is a lovely entry to grace the middle of the puzzle, crossing two of the theme entries.
  • We get the three-word crossword answer TO A T fairly often. Here, FIT TO A TEE expands on that. It means to [Be perfect] for its purpose.
  • A SLUG [doesn't really represent change], as it's a fake coin.
  • [New York City racetrack, informally] is BIG A. I don't know a thing about this.
  • [Concerned wife's question in the E.R., maybe] is HOW IS HE?
  • BOLO TIES are [Western wear].
  • [Soap-making solution] is SODA LYE. Is that available in a diet version?
  • [Longtime Philippine archbishop ___ Sin] is named JAIME. That one was a gimme for me—who can forget a prelate named Sin?

Updated:

This weekend's second Sunday puzzle in the New York Times is another "Split Decisions" by George Bredehorn. I found the upper right corner to be kinda tough, and the lower left corner to be much knottier than the opposite side. From top to bottom, left to right, here are my answer pairs (use your mouse to highlight the white text to see the answers):

Across: THUS/TOSS, CHAPEAU/CHAPELS, CANTATA/CANASTA, STRAINER/STRANGER, RACKETS/RACISTS, ANVIL/ANGEL, DISASTER/DISPUTER, ISOBARS/ISOMERS, CADMIUM/CALCIUM, INSOMNIA/INSIGNIA, SCANT/SPENT, BASSOON/BALLOON, HEADLESS/HELPLESS, LEISURE/LECTURE, HONESTY/AMNESTY, RAPT/RIOT
Down: GRIDDLE/TWIDDLE, UPS/BUS, SUITORS/EDITORS, BURST/FIRST, HUMANLY/UNMANLY, FOLKS/FOCUS, SCRAWNY/SCRAWLS, BLATHER/FEATHER, LATCH/LYNCH, CARDIAC/CARDING, SWEPT/SWELL, ANCHORS/ANCHOVY, SPA/SAW, TRANSIT/TRANSOM

This kind of puzzle's good training for looking at spaces in a crossword and thinking about what words could fit there, narrowing down the list of options as you read the clue.

Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer crossword, "The NASA Gift Shop," marks the 50th birthday of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration with a batch of NASA-related puns. The ones I liked best were GEMINI CRICKET, the [NASA doll that sings "When You Wish Upon a Star"], playing on Jiminy Cricket, and ORBITAL REDENBACHER'S, [NASA's special-edition popcorn?], citing Orville Redenbacher. I liked the puzzle just fine, but find myself having nothing much to say about it. (This coughing, sneezing, and sniffling business is distracting.)

Pamela Amick Klawitter's syndicated Los Angeles Times Sunday crossword, "All Is Lost," dumps an ALL from eight phrases to change the meaning. The most amusing theme entries were:
  • DAS COWBOYS (Dallas Cowboys), or [Rodeo competitors, in ungrammatical German?].
  • A HOLE IN THE W (a hole in the wall), or [Result of pranksters shooting at Wal-Mart's sign?].
  • ABSENTEE BOT (absentee ballot), or [Automaton gone missing?].
My favorite bit of fill here is CAMP IT UP, clued as [Act in an amusingly affected way].

Liz Gorski's Boston Globe crossword in Across Lite, "I'll Pencil U In," inserts a U into eight phrases to change the meaning. I had a little trouble with one crossing, where a ["TV Guide" acronym] that's really an abbreviation (acronyms are pronounceable words) crosses a [Baroque dance]. There are four time zones in the U.S., but apparently the one TV Guide mentions is Central, or CST (the other time zones' TV shows are scheduled an hour off from when they air in the Midwest, where prime-time shows run from 7 to 10 p.m.). The dance is CHACONNE, and I'll bet not many people know that word. I'd have clued CST more specifically to unknot that square. My favorite theme entries are CARPENTER AUNT (ant), or [Kin seen sawing?], and LOBSTER FRAU DIABLO (Fra), or [Mrs. Freud's spicy seafood recipe?]. That last one's just plain nuts, but it goes for broke so I like it. Highlights in the fill include GLASNOST, THINK BIG, LAKE ONTARIO, USER'S MANUAL, and SPY RING.

Patrick Jordan's themeless CrosSynergy "Sunday Challenge" is the week's easiest themeless puzzle. Patrick is perhaps more drawn to pangrams than any other constructor, and he did manage to get all 26 letters of the alphabet into this grid without having any horrid abbreviations or woebegone obscurities. He did trick me with [Pina colada ingredient], 3 letters—not rum but ICE. [Engages in logrolling] is BIRLS—this lumberjack sport is sometimes called roleo, which is another word that seems to pop up more in crosswords than in day-to-day living.

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September 06, 2008

Sunday, 9/7

NYT 7:53
BG 7:15
LAT 7:10
PI 6:55
CS 3:05

Will Shortz's Spiral 4:54
"Fashion Sense" suite of puzzles in the NYT untimed...and not finished*

*Hallelujah! Eric Berlin made a multi-page PDF of the "Fashion Sense" puzzles and it's confirmed at Eric's blog that "The New Season" puzzle has errors both online and in the newspaper. The shark and glove shirts should each have one black circle
and no white circle.

Randolph Ross's New York Times crossword is called "Pun-ditry" because the theme entries are puns on the titles of TV shows political pundits may appear on. The first theme entry involves a show I hadn't heard of, but the rest are familiar:

  • RELIABLE SAUCES might be a [Program on which pundits talk about marinara and such?]. CNN's Reliable Sources delves into how journalists do their jobs.
  • FAZE THE NATION plays in CBS's Face the Nation and is clued, [Program on which pundits say dumbfounding things?].
  • The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer is on PBS. THE NOOSE HOUR is a [Program on which pundits talk about hangings?]. Yeesh.
  • [Program on which pundits express indignant surprise?] is THE "OH, REALLY?" FACTOR, playing on Fox News' The O'Reilly Factor. (Here's Jon Stewart's look at some O'Reilly inconsistency.)
  • BEAT THE PRESS, riffing on NBC's Meet the Press, is a [Program on which pundits slug it out with reporters?].
  • CBS's Sunday Morning becomes SUNDAY MOANING, a [Program on which pundits kvetch?].
  • [Program on which pundits deride the power of the federal government?] is WASHINGTON WEAK, punning on PBS's Washington Week.
  • KNIGHT LINE (playing on ABC's Nightline) is a [Program on which pundits talk about Camelot?].
  • The Today Show isn't heavily pundited. TWO-DAY SHOW is a [Program on which pundits talk for 48 straight hours?].
Clues and answers that I deem blogworthy, based on liveliness, cleverness, difficulty, or relative obscurity:
  • A [Control surface on a plane's wing] is an ELEVON. Quick: lively or obscure? I vote obscure. (One lone obscurity is not so bad.)
  • [Kublai Khan and others] are MONGOLS. Gotta love an old-school horde, right?
  • TAPS IN means [Easily makes the hole with, in golf].
  • [Walloped, quickly] is KOD, as in KO'd, as in kayoed, as in knocked out. One of KOD's crossers, ODSON, can also be tricky to parse. [Has way too much of, slangily] means OD'S ON, as in overdoses on.
  • Iowa gets big play here: An IOWAN is a [Certain caucuser], ISU or Iowa State is the [Cyclones' sch.], and Iowa State is located in AMES.
  • Casinos also get in the game: [You might not be able to stand this] is PAT, as in "stand pat." [Passed out in a bad way] is MISDEALT. And the [Big winner at the casino] is the HOUSE.
  • Look behind you—ASSES are clued as [Buffoons] and a RUMPSTEAK is a [Cut of beef].
  • [All: Prefix] is OMN, which looks inadequate without its trailing I. Seven rows beneath that is OMNIS, clued as [Old Dodges]. Perhaps Dodge overreached with that car name?
  • I feel I should know IRMA [Thomas, the Soul Queen of New Orleans], but I don't.
  • NAVY SEALS are [Specialists in special ops].
  • POLO is a [Sport with a 4 1/2-ounce ball].
  • [Cut a cord, say] is SAWED because you'd use a saw to cut a cord of wood. I do not advise using a saw to cut an umbilical cord.

Updated:

All right, time for more abbreviated crossword blogging than ever before! My cough and allied symptoms are making me whiny.

Emily Cox and Henry Rathvon's Boston Globe crossword in Across Lite is called "Obedience School" and the theme entries are all phrases that begin with commands one might give a dog. For example, the [Chuck Berry classic] "ROLL OVER, BEETHOVEN" begins with "roll over," and FETCH A GOOD PRICE starts with "fetch." Favorite non-theme fill" VIRGIN BIRTH, or [Parthenogenesis]. Last year, I visited the Chester Zoo in England, home to a Komodo dragon who laid a clutch of fertilized eggs without the hassle of having a boyfriend in the picture. Her offspring were severall months old when I saw them, in a separate enclosure from Mum since adult Komodos are wont to snack on the young.

Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer puzzle, "Are You Ready for Some Foodball?", takes 11 phrases that mean something in football and clues them as if they have something to do with food and eating. So [Add a little salt early before adding a lot of salt later?] is PRESEASON, and [Whip up some homemade Cheez Whiz?] is BEAT THE SPREAD. In the fill, one wrong turn caught my eye. At 1-Down, for [Arrest] I had CO**A* and I entered CORRAL—but the correct answer is COLLAR. Are there other word pairs where certain letters can be swapped like this, and the words could be passably clued the same way? The L/R, left/right swap is a bonus.

Updated:

Cruciverb.com isn't loading right now, so I can't download the syndicated LA Times crossword.

Paula Gamache's themeless CrosSynergy "Sunday Challenge" hit a lot of my sweet spots and gave me perhaps my quickest themeless solve yet. Sure, a lot of people might read a clue like [Portrayer of Lila Quartermaine on "General Hospital"] and grumble, but ANNA LEE was a gimme for me. (She played the role for over 25 years. Lila was an unusual soap opera character in that she was always on the side of good.) Four interlocking 15-letter answers brace the grid and offer a leg up in each corner of the puzzle. Not much of a challenge, but it's always fun to get through a themeless puzzle faster than usual.

Will Shortz's second Sunday puzzle, Spiral, was pretty easy. The main reason I subscribe to Games World of Puzzles is because it's a regular purveyor of Frank Longo puzzles—including a spiral in the newest issue, the Jumbo Crossword (the current one features stair-stepped 7-letter answers occupying grand swaths of grid space), and puzzles with variety crossword grids.

I printed out the various pieces of today's NYT op-ed puzzle extravaganza, "Fashion Sense," by Mike Shenk, Robert Leighton, and Amy Goldstein of Puzzability. (It appears that the puzzles are all included in a single PDF, which would be teeny if printed on an 8 1/2 x 11 page. I used the Mac's Grab app to capture individual puzzles for printing.) Most of the puzzles weren't too tough, but "The New Season" stumped me (I blame the virus that has me feeling fluish), so I can't complete the final puzzle. Sigh.

Updated on Monday with one more puzzle:

Pamela Amick Klawitter constructed the syndicated Los Angeles Times Sunday crossword, "We're in Business." Although actually, the theme is better described as "Business Is in Them"—each theme entry hides an INC. A smooth puzzle...

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June 21, 2008

Sunday, 6/22

LAT 55:46
NYT 50:56
PI 23:30
CS 19:53
BG - not available this week

Welcome back to the blog, everybody. My name is PuzzleGirl and I'll be your host today. Are you all tired of me? Well, good, because Orange will be back in the hot seat for tomorrow's puzzles and you won't have old PuzzleGirl to kick around any more. I want to thank you all for hanging with me these last few days and I especially want to thank Orange for asking me to sub for her. It's been a real treat for me because my favorite place in the whole world is ... ? Anyone know? (My mom and my sister are probably reading this; I bet they know.) You got it: right in the center of attention. I actually prefer for there to be a stage involved, or at least a podium, but this way is pretty cool too. But enough about me, let's talk about my opinions.

Pamela Amick Klawitter's New York Times puzzle, "Chain Reaction" was really hard for me. I had three or four trouble spots that I had to keep going back to. I really liked the theme. It was, let's see, how can I explain it? Kind of an expansion on the "Before and After" category on Jeopardy. Each theme clue consists of three two-word phrases (and when I say two-word phrases, I mean that to include compound words). We're supposed to figure out the second of the three phrases and enter it into the grid. In each case, the last part of one item and the first part of the following item can be put together to make another two-word phrase. The last two-word phrase of one theme clue is then used to start the next theme clue. Here, I'll show you the first one in detail and then just list the rest: The clue is [Food court _____ circuit board], so the answer is CASE CLOSED: Food Court --> Court Case --> Case Closed --> Closed Circuit --> Circuit Board. Get it?

  • [Food Court] CASE CLOSED [Circuit Board]
  • [Circuit Board] FOOT LOCKER [Room Service]
  • [Room Service] ROAD HAZARD [Light Touch]
  • [Light Touch] SCREEN DOOR [Bell Pepper]
  • [Bell Pepper] SPRAY PAINT [Brushfire]
  • [Brushfire] WALL STREET [Smart Car]
  • [Smart Car] POOL PLAYER [Piano Bar]
  • [Piano Bar] GRAPH PAPER [Trailhead]
  • [Trailhead] MASTERCARD [Countertop]
  • [Countertop] DOLLAR SIGN [Post Office]
So if someone says "nowadays," how far back do you have to go until you get to a time when the thing you're talking about isn't true any more? I was surprised to see that [Like many dorms nowadays] was looking for COED. I lived in a coed dorm back in 1983. That seems like an awfully long time ago. But I went to kind of a hippie school, so maybe coed dorms were unusual. I did not know that Salvador Dali had a pet OCELOT. Apparently, it went almost everywhere with him. Here's a (slightly altered) picture. This is the second time this week I've seen the word chaperon in a puzzle without an E at the end. Merriam-Webster on-line says that without the E is a var. spelling. Then again, it's first definition is "a person (as a matron) who for propriety accompanies one or more young unmarried women in public or in mixed company." It could be time to update that. (It doesn't really mean that nowadays, does it?) One quick story and I'll shut up about this puzzle for now. [Prince Albert, for one] is a COAT. I didn't know that, so I was going through the alphabet: is it a boat? a goat? a moat? And that reminded me of an email I got from our realtor last week (our house is on the market). A couple who looked at our house thought they might be interested in buying it but they had heard from one of our neighbors that a couple of months ago we installed a moat around our house. The realtor wondered what that was all about. A moat. A MOAT. What is this, the Middle Ages? What did she expect me to say? "Yeah, we built a moat to, ya know, deter the invaders. We're having some over-crowding issues in our dungeon." I couldn't stop laughing. I have Absolutely No Idea where that came from. A moat. Still cracks me up.

Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer puzzle this week is called "Animals Are People, Too." The theme answers are familiar phrases that end with the name of an animal:
  • [Plant of a sort] = GOVERNMENT MOLE
  • [Pub-crawler's cousin] = LOUNGE LIZARD
  • [Talker looking for a deal, often] = STOOL PIGEON
  • [Usurer] = LOAN SHARK
  • [One with a big closet, perhaps] = CLOTHES HORSE
  • [Slangy resident of the Southwest] = DESERT RAT
  • [Low-rent womanizer] = PARLOR SNAKE
  • [Engine expert of a sort] = GREASE MONKEY
  • [Fame chaser] = PUBLICITY HOUND
Do we have a name for an answer that isn't part of the theme but kinda goes with it? Well, I found two of those in this puzzle: [Where to see urban gorillas] is CITY ZOOS, and [Shootout sounds] is RAT-A-TAT. Other than that, I don't have much to say about this puzzle. It was solid, creative, fun -- pretty much what I expect from Merl. If anything really struck you about the puzzle, please share in the comments!

Updated:

Sorry I'm so late with this update, but Alan Arbesfeld's L.A. Times puzzle, "Switching Hands," which has a fun theme, was really, really hard for me. In each theme entry, a familiar phrase that includes a word starting with L or R begins that word with the "opposite hand" (R or L) instead.
  • [Jeweler?] = LOCKETMAN (rocketman)
  • [Review a women's bygone outfit?] = RATE (late) BLOOMERS
  • [Build a support network?] = COLLECT LOYALTIES (royalties)
  • [Tarot expert?] = READER (leader) OF THE PACK
  • [Cat's room service request?] = SEND UP THE LIVER (river)
  • [Shoe store temp's diary entry?] = A DAY AT THE LACES (races)
  • [Copy of "Atlas Shrugged" that was ordered?] = THE PROMISED RAND (land)
  • [How Bush felt about a former top aide?] = ALL YOU NEED IS ROVE (love)
  • [Shaky gymnastics maneuver?] = RICKETY (lickety) SPLIT
  • [Able to resist sexual desire?] = LUSTPROOF (rustproof)
I liked this puzzle a lot but, seriously, my head still hurts and it's late so I'm just going to move on.

Rich Norris's CrosSynergy "Sunday Challenge" has a ton of fun fill. Did you know the [First company to create glow-in-the-dark underwear] was JOE BOXER? Did you even know glow-in-the-dark underwear existed? I didn't. [Xer's parent, probably] was a gimme for me. I'm an Xer; my parents are BOOMERs. I used to live a couple blocks away from TKTS [Sign on a B'way booth]. Do people outside of New York know that place? It's a booth that sits on an island right in the middle of a really busy street. Seriously, you take your life in your hands trying to get to it. And once you get there, you can buy discount tickets for the day's Broadway shows. Here's a picture. TIMBUKTU is an [Historic city near the Niger River]. Also a song by Bob Seger that I can't find on YouTube. Sorry. Missteps along the way for me include spikes for SPURTS [Sudden increases]. (Thank God for TORI Spelling or I may never have gotten out of the southeast corner.) Leia for XENA [Princess from Amphipolis]. I obviously don't know my sci-fi princesses. I’m pretty solid on the Disney princesses though. I thought a [Begrudging agreement] would be I guess so but it was I SUPPOSE. And, finally, I wanted blared for BRASSY [Like trumpet music]. It all got worked out in the end, though, so I feel pretty good about myself and now I can go do some laundry and pay attention to my children. Thanks again, everyone!

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March 05, 2008

Thursday, 3/6

NYS 7:53
LAT 4:20
CS 4:05
NYT 3:53

Pamela Amick Klawitter's New York Times crossword has the sort of poker theme I can appreciate—one that's really not about poker at all. The poker phrase I'M IN describes how the four theme entries are altered—the letters IM are inserted into each. Prodigal son turns into American Idol's PRODIGAL SIMON. If you missed it, last week Simon Cowell ragged on a contestant who said he liked crosswords, terming that boring. (Oh, really? Jake Gyllenhaal seems to like them, and Christina Applegate commented on Rex's blog after her surname was in the Sunday puzzle.) A sedentary job turns into a geological SEDIMENTARY JOB, which surely has many layers. I haven't seen the old-style [Twig broom] called a BESOM in the puzzle lately—here's a picture of one.


I'm thinking Jonathan Gersch's New York Sun puzzle isn't actually so difficult. But I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open, while open eyes are generally considered a prerequisite for solving crosswords. There is the trickiness of a rebus, and of a rebus that lands in odd places. There are five [LIGHT] rebus squares in the four longest Across answers, but also in a few other places with no apparent rhyme or reason. If there's a rationale behind where the rebus squares are, some sort of pattern, please en[LIGHT]en me.

I don't love giving a Thursday rebus puzzle short shrift, but I'm going to bed. G'night!

Updated:

Jack McInturff's LA Times crossword is suffering from colony collapse disorder—the B's have abandoned the theme entries, leaving L words where there used to be BL words. (There is still a B in the fill, though.) Favorite fill: quaint old-fashioned POULTICES, [Anti-inflammatory dressings]. Fetch me my leeches while you're at it, and my trepanation kit.

Patrick Blindauer's CrosSynergy puzzle, "Heart of Stone," has a GEMstone at the heart of each theme entry. E.g., ORANGE MARMALADE. One fill entry is a 6-letter partial, "truth OR DARE." Deb Amlen was just telling me she doesn't mind partials longer than 5 letters (provided they're shorter than the theme entries)—"if the entry is humorous enough (generally what I'm aiming for), OR sparks a particularly good memory in the solver, it should be OK." I agree with that. Merl Reagle and Maura Jacobson's puzzles have plenty of 7-letter partials that don't bother me, and "truth OR DARE" is more fun than, say, "RACK AND pinion steering." I like the story suggested by the longer fill here: The IMPATIENT OLD MASTER naturally went straight from the SKI RESORT to the EMERGENCY room. One final note: Pretend the clue for 6-Down is [Poet and novelist Elinor].

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January 31, 2008

Friday, 2/1

LAT 7:57
NYT 7:16
Jonesin' 5:32
NYS 5:07
CHE 4:28
CS 3:28

WSJ 7:53

It's terribly distracting, trying to blog about crosswords (and solve them) when Lost is on. Quelle dramatique!

Okay, I blogged the NYT puzzle (below) while watching Lost. Then the show ended and I did the Sun crossword, and as I begin to blog that, my husband's doing a crossword on his iPod touch and asking for help. The man is nuts—he's filling in things that make no sense and pretending that they do. For a clue about a good-looking guy, the crossings led him to fill in STUDPUFFIN. Yes, a hot seabird. The crossing was [___-bang], and he opted for SLAP-bang rather than SLAM-bang. Slap-bang? Studpuffin? Oh, dear.

So. Yeah. Um, the crossword. The New York Times puzzle was constructed by Doug Peterson. Twenty-three black squares looks fairly impressive, but there are 68 answers, which is not so low at all. Which, in my book, is a good thing—more answers of higher quality means more entertainment than fewer answers that are more forced. There are pairs of 15s near the top and bottom of the grid—I like the [Hobbes in "Calvin and Hobbes"] clue for IMAGINARY FRIEND, and the USED CAR SALESMEN holding everything up. Some of the tricky clues fell like a house of cards—well, at least if I had some crossings. Or a lot of crossings. I took a wrong turn with [It stocks blocks], though—not a TOY STORE at all, no! Just an ICEHOUSE. I have never been to an icehouse; have you? That wasn't the only wrong turn I took, you'll see.

Favorite clues: [Prepare for a shower] for GIFT-WRAP; [Well activity] for WISHING (I opted for an oil well GUSHING at first); [Chief goals?] for END ZONES (as in the Kansas City Chiefs of the NFL); and [Playboy's plea?] for RENEW the magazine.

Other clues of note: [Temper] for ASSUAGE; the verb phrase [Ape wrestlers] for GRAPPLE; [Body part above la bouche] for NEZ (French for mouth and nose); the cross-referenced prefix and suffix that go together, PENTA and GON; the noun [Intimate] for CRONY; [Subject of some conspiracy theories] for HOFFA; [Staff note] for MEMO (not a CLEF or REST); [She's dangerously fascinating] for CIRCE (I went with the generic SIREN); [Tickled the most?] for PINKEST (as in "tickled pink"); [Hosts] for RAFTS, both meaning a slew of something; [Before being delivered] for PRENATAL; [Make like Pac-Man] for CHOMP; [Aggressively ambitious] for HUNGRY; [Basso Hines] for JEROME; and ["Who ___?"] for DOESN'T.

The New York Sun "Weekend Warrior" is a Karen Tracey offspring, and I'll bet it makes a bunch of you cranky. Sometimes Karen reins in her propensity for including names in the grid, and sometimes she lets her freak flag fly. Hooray! The flag is hoisted high, and there are 15 or more people's names (pop-cultural ones, too) in the grid, along with some place names. Look at the full names—DESI ARNAZ, JOAN VAN ARK of Dallas, and otically gifted MITCH ALBOM. Chatty entries include "ARE WE ALONE?" or is there life on other planets and the [Retort to the indiscreet], "hey, I HEARD THAT." Scrabbly vocabulary includes AJAX, an [Amsterdam soccer team], and Spanish painter VELAZQUEZ. Good multi-word entries include "ANNIE'S SONG," the Atlantic and Pacific TIME ZONES, PURPLE SAGE, BONE-DRY, and FREE SPIRIT.

Favorite clues and entries and the toughest parts, jumbled together: [Extended operatic solo] for SCENA; [Weenie roast desserts] for S'MORES; [Birth] for NASCENCE (I do like the word nascent); ["Waking Ned Devine" star Ian] BANNEN; ["Tired blood" tonic] for GERITOL (which vitamin was Evonne Goolagong hawking in the '70s with talk of "iron-poor blood"?); [Ireland's Shannon-___ Waterway] for ERNE (wily sea eagle is hiding in its waterway guise!); [Aleve, generically] for NAPROXEN; [French quarters?] for ETES (ETE = summer, and a season is a quarter of the year); [Personal attendant in the British royal household; [Shooting equipment] for LENSES (thank you for being photographic and not about bloody hunting, LENSES); the UNSEEN/UNDONE crossing; and [Host] for RAFT (hmm, where did I just see that?...).

Updated:

In the Wall Street Journal crossword, "Gofer Broke," Harvey Estes says that GOOD HELP IS / HARD TO FIND and helps out by extricating the workers who are hidden in the the other 10- and 12-letter answers, and placing them in symmetrical spots at the grid's top and bottom. There's a SERF in USER-FRIENDLY, for example. There aren't a ton of theme squares, so there's room for livelier fill—GONE TO POT, "THAT'S RICH," "SO THERE," Beckett's ENDGAME, a NEAT FREAK.

Matt Jones's Jonesin' crossword, "Stuck On You," is an easy one this week. The theme entries are four things that may be stuck on you—TOILET PAPER on your shoe, or a "KICK ME" SIGN, to name two. Fun fill—there's [Sitcom architect] MIKE BRADY, a SPLIT END (wow, did I have a ton of split ends before my haircut—winter!), SUSHI BAR, UBER-HIP, MINDY [Cohn of "The Facts of Life"] (Natalie!), Futurama's LEELA—light, fun, plenty of TV.

Pancho Harrison's Chronicle of Higher Education crossword for this week is called "Divining Women," and each of four long entries contains a GODDESS broken across two words: WITHER AWAY, GUARDIAN ANGEL, JEFFREY ARCHER, and CHRIS ISAAK. Hey, I like this theme! CHRIS ISAAK's maleness is balanced out by ISAK Dinesen. CARPE DIEM (the [Pithy life lesson coined by Horace]) evokes Dead Poets Society, which featured a young ETHAN / HAWKE, who's clued with reference to Training Day instead.

Martin Ashwood-Smith's CrosSynergy crossword, "King's English," pays tribute to a batch of Stephen King books—well, four novels and a 1985 movie based on three King stories. I don't think I've read any King books since FIRESTARTER in my early teens, but my cousin devours them. Wasn't it nice of King to unretire from writing novels? I do read him every month—he's got a column in Entertainment Weekly.

I didn't much care for the cluing style in Pamela Amick Klawitter's LA Times puzzle. Which is to say, it tied me up in knots and slowed me down more than I like, but didn't teach me oddball trivia or names like a tough themeless puzzle tends to. The theme was NO-WIN: Six other entries were phrases from which WIN had been yoinked. Two of the theme entries were just 7 letters long, which made it harder to recognize them as theme entries at first. So the [Techies' gossiping site?] E-COOLER just seemed so...bad. But it's wine cooler without the WIN, so I liked it when I realized it was a theme entry. Is it an editorial statement that THE METS are in this NO-WIN puzzle? The [Jungle hybrid] TIGLON also made me cranky—the liger, I know, but the tiglon or tigon (with reversed parentage) is less familiar. I also took umbrage at HOOD KING (hoodwinking minus WIN) clued as [Don?]. Really? The 'hood? (The clue could have gone in a cobra direction.) Read a little about King's philanthropic efforts here. Kudos to the constructor for including seven theme entries, though. (My take is subjective, of course—at the NYT forum, someone just singled this puzzle out as particularly good. Chacun a son gout!)

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