WaPo 9:37
BG 9:35
PI 9:28
NYT 7:16
LAT 7:16
CS 4:20
Seth Abel's New York Times puzzle didn't hit a false note from start to finish. Just one letter nagged at me in the "Car Talk" theme, while the rest delighted. In-the-language phrases are clued as if the last word is a car model of the same name. The troublesome square was in REAL TROOPER, for which the preferred phrase is real trouper (but the Isuzu TROOPER is the vehicle). The [Ford purchased online?] is an INTERNET EXPLORER, the [Honda owned by one of the Simpsons?] is HOMER'S ODYSSEY (ha!), there's an Acura URBAN LEGEND, a [Tiny Volkswagen?] is a MINIATURE GOLF (ha!), and there's a Buick TWENTIETH CENTURY. Going Down, there's a PARTIAL ECLIPSE (Mitsubishi) and Suzuki TRUSTY SIDEKICK. Other automotive fill includes a TOTAL LOSS, Stephen King's evil CHRISTINE, the Dodge ARIES, and (sort of) a tire in TIRE OUT. Favorite fill and clues: SHTETLS and SCHUSS with their single, solitary vowels; [Paved road: Sp.] for ESTRADA ("Erik Paved Road"); [Overdrawn account?] for SAGA; [Question following "Oh, yeah?!"] for SEZ WHO; [Performance artist Anderson] for LAURIE (my sister's name, same spelling and all); and the double German nuggets of EIS ([Winter autobahn hazard]) and EIN ([Hamburger's one]). Least favorite: [It's measured in degrees] for BURN—Chicago had a horrible burn story in the news recently, so it's a depressing evocation (whereas [Former name of the FC Dallas soccer team] is not).
Updated:
Henry Hook's Boston Globe rerun in Across Lite, "Do the Math," has a nifty theme. The theme clues are [Z+], [T+], [G+], [L+], [P+], [B+], [H+], [D+], and [C+]. Say what? The answer to the final Across clue, [How to make sense of the starred clues], is ADD ONE. Thus, the clues are really [Zone], [Tone], [Gone], and so on. Without checking, I'll bet that all the common *ONE words are included in the clue list. The fill has some oddball words of the "huh?" variety. The [Faux-gold alloy] is OROIDE, and I don't think I've ever seen that word in a crossword puzzle before. The [Coin of Yemen] is the BUQSHA, also unfamiliar. The [Easel constellation] is PICTOR. [TV's Dr. Keith] is ABLOW. And [Re body movements] is GESTIC. Fill/cluing highlights: FROGGER ([Vintage video game]) and GOULASH ([Jumble]). Why on earth is [Flo] a DUD?
Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer puzzle, "Russians I'd Like to Meet," is another of his punstravaganzas. The [Russian marathoner?] is GLADYS ALMOSTOVA ("glad it's almost over"), and the [Nearsighted Russian cab driver?] is MISCHA TURNOV ("miss ya turn-off"). Yup, that's some hardcore punning, all right. I was beginning to nod off while solving, so forgive me for having nothing sentient or salient to say about the puzzle. And so to bed.
Updated Sunday morning:
Dan Naddor's syndicated LA Times puzzle, "Whimsical Wordplay," lives up to its title. Phrases beginning with -ical adjectives are redefined using other meanings of the noun that follows. Thus, [Repair shop technobabble?] is MECHANICAL BULL. A [Church service with a finger-wagging message?] is CRITICAL MASS. An [Extremist's privilege?] is a RADICAL RIGHT. A TECHNICAL KNOCKOUT is a [Gorgeous geek-squad member?]. [Juilliard department heads?] are MUSICAL CHAIRS. The other three theme entries are just about as spot-on as these five. Overall, a most enjoyable solving experience, with fill like SWEE' PEA, SLAP SHOT, ET TU BRUTE, HOP TO IT, RUB NOSES, SAID HI, and POLI SCI.
Matt Ginsberg's Washington Post crossword, "What It Is," breaks up the theme answers by omitting the "is" from the middle and putting the two entities that bracket the "is" in separate parts of the grid. While it was kinda fun to leap to new spots in the grid once I figured out the other half of a phrase, the seemingly random placement of the theme answers is a little off-putting. The pull of thematic symmetry is so strong that I'm tempted to apply some symmetry by pairing other answers that appear opposite the theme answers. RICE-A-RONI is DOPE! SCHIRRA is SPORTIEST!
In Ray Hamel's themeless CrosSynergy puzzle, two 15-letter names from fiction span the grid—and they're not names I know. Apparently...let's see...huh. A Google search for ADMIRAL CRICHTON returns almost exclusively references to the J.M. Barrie work, The Admirable Crichton. The Wikipedia summary doesn't suggest that Crichton was an admiral at all. The clue reads [J.M. Barrie play, with "The"]. Is it possible that the constructor and his CrosSynergy peer reviewers didn't fact-check this, and it's just plain wrong? (The search query "admiral crichton" barrie returns 63 hits, versus 24,200 for "admirable crichton" barrie.) The other 15 is MISTRESS QUICKLY, a character in multiple Shakespeare plays that are not among the ones I've read. Another entry, INTENDANT, was utterly unfamiliar to me. It means [Public manager] in these ways.
December 01, 2007
Sunday, 12/2
August 02, 2007
Friday, 8/3
NYT 7:05
Jonesin' 4:52
LAT 4:25
CHE 4:20
NYS 3:53
CS 3:13
WSJ delayed online
(updated at 11 a.m. Friday)
I fell asleep after the 9:00 crosswording session and alas, I do not find myself quite awake enough now to do any more crossword puzzles. The other puzzles will bide their time until morning.
Was I just tired, or did Charles Barasch's New York Times crossword really feel more like a harder Saturday puzzle? This 70-word crossword contained plenty of good fill, including the intersecting 15s, VOODOO ECONOMICS and FIBONACCI SERIES; the Scrabbly words with letters like Z, Q, X, J, and K; and lots of lively phrases, such as MAZEL TOV, I DUNNO, I NEVER, and the aghast IT'S ALIVE (most of these phrases demand an exclamation point). KOOKY sitting atop JAMMIES and next to XENA the Warrior Princess made for a lovely zone, too.
Tough stuff: [Two-time Nicaraguan president Chamorro] is EMILIANO, who was unknown to me, rather than the more recent leader Violeta Chamorro. The [Celebratory cry] of MAZEL TOV is 8 letters long, but all sorts of shorter options insisted on coming to mind: hurrah, hooray, huzzah, whoo-hoo (which I'd love to see in a grid some day). The ZINNIA is the [Flower named for a German botanist]; the dahlia's named after a Swedish botanist, the fuchsia after another German botanist—so the clue turns out to be less specific than it looks. I don't know the hackberry tree, so [Hackberry relative] and ELM weren't an obvious connection; that Wikipedia article says the hackberry's related to hemp. Never saw the word [Pseudologue] before; apparently it's a particular sort of LIAR. [Breakless, in a way], 6 letters, ending with ACT—must be INTACT, no? No! It's ONE-ACT, which wasn't my first thought. [Superman, for one], starting with ALI—must be Clark Kent's ALIAS, no? No! He was an ALIEN. [Salad bar binful], starting with SP—SPINACH, surely? No! SPROUTS. I don't know if these last three were conscious traps or not, but they proved to be devious for me. [Word before some animal names] is SHE (as in she-wolf, she-bear), but I really needed the crossings to get what was indicated here.
Clues I enjoyed that didn't stump me as much as those ones: [Beaucoup de Louises] for ROIS; [San Francisco mayor Newsom] for GAVIN; [Handicap, say] for EQUALIZE; [Undercover wear?] for JAMMIES; ["Soap" family] for TATES (the poor Campbells—less money, no suave butler, and a name less conducive to appearing in crosswords); [Dwarf], the verb, for MINIMIZE; [They might follow the drill] for FILLINGS; [Wobbly] for INSECURE; and YES WE ["___ have no ..."]. Can anyone explain why the song called "Yes, We Have No Bananas" is filed away in The Brady Bunch lobe of my brain?
Updated:
Seth Abel's New York Sun Weekend Warrior felt much easier than the NYT crossword. One thing that made it flow smoothly was the Scrabbliness throughout—once you figure out that FT DIX NJ is sitting atop QUEER EYE, you can recognize that the constructor may have seeded the rest of the grid with uncommon letters. My favorite clues: [Very salty, say] for RATED R; [Stitch, e.g.] for PAIN; [Butters up?] for BASTES; [Spitball target?] is SUB (this one took me a while to parse properly—not a submarine, nor a sub sandwich, but rather, a substitute teacher!); the noun [Stinks] for FUSSES; [Behind] for PRO (as in "in favor of"); and, of course, [Congress is not allowed in it] for CELIBACY.
I like the vocabulary word clue [Cinereous] for ASHEN. I assumed that cinder was a direct cognate, but the etymology shows that it's a roundabout connection. I just learned from Charles Hodgson's new book, Carnal Knowledge: A Navel Gazer's Dictionary of Anatomy, Etymology, and Trivia, that Latinate words came to English in more than one way. Some were yoinked from Latin during the Renaissance (cinereous looks like it could be such a word) while many older words entered Old or Middle English via the French (see etymology for cinder), whose language is rooted in Latin. You can preorder the book, which will be released next week.
The theme in Thomas Schier's CrosSynergy puzzle consists of four 15-letter strings of words that fit the "hot ___" mold. Sure, you end up with long entries that look nonsensical, like HOUSE BOX HEAD ROD, but it makes sense while you're solving.
Donna Levin's LA Times crossword seems like it emerged from Pune—the theme entries are puns involving Indian words/names. There's the NEHRU MARGIN by which the politician wins, the DELHI COUNTER bean-counter, the mint's schedule on RUPEE TUESDAY, and AGRA CULTURE for the arts. Plenty of interesting fill and clues. Did you know ULNAE was [Latin for "elbows"]? (The Carnal Knowledge book tells me the "ell" portion of "elbow" is related to ulna.) ISHMAEL's clued via a Moby Dick quote, and elsewhere there's an OP-ED PAGE.
Frank Virzi's July 20 Chronicle of Higher Education puzzle (with a 15x16 grid), "Read Heads," features five past world leaders clued by the books they've written. They're a diverse group: RICHARD NIXON, NELSON MANDELA, MARGARET THATCHER, VLADIMIR LENIN, and JULIUS CAESAR. Lots of musical words here—ADAGIO crossing TACET, as well as an unfamiliar word, TENUTO, [Held to its full value, as a musical note]. I dispute that EDY'S is a [Ben & Jerry's alternative]; I liken Edy's and Breyer's, but Ben & Jerry's ice cream is on a par with Haagen Dazs, Dove, and the other brands sold in smaller containers. I liked [It may be suspended] for DISBELIEF. [There are two in Utah] = AREA CODES—wow, that's a small population. 2.2 million. Chicago and its suburbs are up to nine area codes now, with three more downstate.
Matt Jones' Jonesin' crossword is called "Encyclopedic Knowledge," and the theme entries are phrases that sound like they could be alphabetical-order labels for encyclopedia volumes; e.g., HARD TO HEAR. Favorite clues: [Like some justice] for KARMIC; [Zone named for Dr. Grafenberg] for G-SPOT; [Song with the lyric "she really shows you all she can"] for RIO by Duran Duran; [State lines?] for ACT; and [Jersey jersey wearers] for NETS. I'd never heard of [Jarvis of the Denver Broncos]/MOSS, and no wonder: he was just drafted and his signing deal is brand-new.
May 20, 2007
Sunday, 5/20
NYT 10:02
WaPo 9:10
LAT 9:03
BG 8:30
CS 4:25
Quick takes, because it's already Sunday afternoon:
The NYT by Seth A. Abel is called "More Headlines That Make You Go 'Huh?'" Now, I don't specifically recall its apparent predecessor, but I like this type of theme. I always enjoy poorly worded headlines that are open to horrible misinterpretation. There were a number of clues I loved, but I did the puzzle in the wee hours and have since forgotten what they were. Here's one: [Shaker formula] for NACL. Let's see...and [Palm readers?] for the brand of PDAs called TREOS. And SHAW clued as [Newsman Bernard], because before he was a clean-shaven CNN anchor, he was a mustachioed anchor on the local news in Chicago. Never heard of NFL running back KEVAN Barlow, but have now made a mental note of the spelling of that first name.
Henry Hook's Boston Globe puzzle, "Quiet, Please," adds SH to the beginning of a word in each of 10 theme entries. NOAH'S SHARK ([Not Jonah's whale?]) evoked Merl Reagle's line in Wordplay about inverting two letters in "Noah's Ark" to make "No, a shark!" I rather liked SKATING SHRINK, [Analyst on ice?].
Patrick Jordan's Washington Post crossword, "Reformed Criminals," assembles eight fictional villains and anagrams them. Just the sort of puzzle-within-a-puzzle I enjoy! With two theme entries in each corner of the puzzle, none interlocking, the grid seemed a little more open, without any super-creaky entries compromising the fun.
The syndicated LA Times puzzle, "Show of Shows," was a group effort. According to the Across Lite notepad, "Puzzle constructor Bonnie L. Gentry recently led a crossword workshop during a cruise. This puzzle's theme, title and pen name (made on a cruise) came from members of that workshop. Ms. Gentry did the rest." The five theme entries from "Mae Donna Cruz" are mashups of of three TV shows, such as COPS LOST LAW AND ORDER, clued as [Officers failed to control rioters?]. A few clunkers in the fill (such as NO EAR, clued as [Absence of musical skill]), but I did enjoy the theme entries. Despite my love of pop culture, it took me far too long to figure out that the theme involved TV shows.
Harvey Estes' themeless CrosSynergy puzzle was about par for the course, difficulty-wise, meaning easier than most of the other themeless puzzles I do. Favorite bits: SOUR NOTES and SORE LOSER, [Way below] addling me as the clue for UNDERPASS, and the pairing of COME AGAIN? and SO TO SPEAK.
May 04, 2007
Saturday, 5/5
Newsday 10:20ish
NYT 6:29
LAT 5:21
CS 4:53
(updated 9:05 and 10:15 a.m. Sat.)
Remember Friday's wicked AUBE/EDESSA crossing? I came across a helpful hint at the NYT forum: "karenjane1" writes, When you need a vowel for the last letter of a French river, it's an "e" - since most of them end in e. There are many that end in consonants (Gers, Lot, Doubs) but if it's a vowel, chances are it's an "e." Duly noted! If you're reading this, Karen, merci beaucoup.
Okay, I'm wiped out. Between getting ready for my upcoming vacation (fear not, Dear Reader! Guest bloggers will keep the internet warm while I'm away.), waking up too early this morning, dealing with the cascading water coming down the walls (folks two floors up had a plumbing mishap while replacing a shower faucet), and this pesky new allergy thing (at least it's just bleary eyes and not sneezing, congestion, and itchiness), I want nothing more than to be asleep. (Having filled my tummy at IHOP for an anniversary dinner isn't waking me up any, either.) But, tireless blogger that I am, I will muddle on through a write-up about David Quarfoot's Saturday NYT (and hooray! Apparently DQ's been constructing more, because not long ago he'd said his pipeline was all tapped out). (Apparently when I'm sleepy, I'm irrationally prone to parenthetical remarks.) Anyway, it's got the classic DQ zip to it, with many apt combos: STEPHEN / COLBERT across the top row, plus three more full names (RIP TORN, MIA HAMM, "JANE ROE"—and the ARAL SEA); the happy Bs of BMX BIKES ([X Games racers]), BABY FAT ([It's usually lost before school age]), and BLUENOSE ([Victorian type]); SPIKE TV and XM RADIO (["Oprah and Friends" airer]) representing the media; NEAR BEER and an OPEN BAR ([Feature of some political parties?]); the MAN'S MAN and his TAN LINE ([Nudist's lack]); and the French LA DANSE et LA MODE. Tricky and/or likeable clues: [Entertainer whose last name is the past tense of a synonym of his first name] for RIP TORN; [Slice, e.g.] for SODAPOP; [They're between shoulders] for LANES; Nova Scotia's Bras D'OR Lake; [Hoot] for ULULATE (a word I'm uncommonly fond of); [Ajman, for one] is an EMIRATE; [Decoration behind an altar] for REREDOS; [Boss's address?] for E STREET; and [Sons of, in Hebrew] for B'NAI (Bna'i Brith means "sons of the covenant." Definitely a worthy opponent and/or companion, this Saturday puzzle, and also entertainingly crisp.
Updated:
Must be brief, for there is much to do the day before vacation.
Lots of very good stuff in Seth Abel's themeless LA Times puzzle. Not too hard, but not too easy, either.
Randolph Ross's CrosSynergy puzzle, "Or Else," swaps an -or ending for -ER and redefines the theme phrases. Entertaining theme, good puzzle.
Printer is trying to fight me on getting the PDF of the Newsday Saturday Stumper. Will tend to that later.
A little later:
Okay, the Newsday puzzle by S.N. (Stanley Newman) dragged me around. Maybe I'm just distracted this morning, or maybe it's a knotty crossword. Plenty of lively entries (particularly the longer Across answers) and tough clues. Two sets of cross-referenced entries (9-Down/35-Across and the triple 6-Down/27-Down/26-Across) get in the way of plowing through the grid from top to bottom. 12-Down had an echo of Friday's Sun puzzle by Francis Heaney (TUVALU vs. [TUV]ALUAN), and 29-Down and 34-Across (AXON and SAXON) echoed each other. There were a couple names I didn't know off the top of my head (LEN and LEROY), but the crossings were fair. 4-Down, ["Welcome to" sign letters], may be tough for those with a Midwestern mindset; our town signs rarely mention ALTitude. [Diner drink] fooled me for far too long—I figured it had to be something coffee-related, but MOO JUICE is plain ol' milk. Will toss a copy of the puzzle into consideration for the year's top Saturday puzzles, just because it worked me over so well.
April 14, 2007
Sunday, 4/15
BG 10:29
NYT 9:46
WaPo 8:28
LAT 8:03
CS 5:37
(updated at 11:15 a.m. Sunday)
My son and I are going to a third-grader's birthday party in a while. The birthday boy's in the gifted class and on the chess team, his mom didn't want him getting more toys or videogame cartridges, and they're broke but the kid's got some nice reference books. So I figured a bookstore gift card was in order. I was hoping the local Walgreens drugstore would have one on the rack of gift cards so I could avoid the book-buying temptation, but dammit, they didn't. So I ws forced to go to Barnes & Noble, where I also picked up a volume of Wall Street Journal Crossword Puzzles and The Enlightened Bracketologist, which gives the NCAA bracket treatment to everything from crosswordese (Tyler Hinman) and punctuation (Jesse Sheidlower) to political hot-button issues (Mo Rocca) and marital arguments (two people I've never heard of).
The Sunday Times crossword is Brendan Emmett Quigley's "Rube Goldberg Device," and it's essentially a quip puzzle. Ordinarily I deplore such themes with vigor (and vinegar), but I liked BEQ's last quote puzzle in the Onion and I like this one. The theme follows a Rube Goldberg mousetrap through all the steps: [First you...] PLACE CHEESE ONTO SEESAW is followed eventually by FLOODS MOUSE HOLE and the advice to [Next time...] BUILD A BETTER MOUSETRAP. The theme entries happen to include the letters Z, Q, J, and K, and take up a lot of real estate. That's 146 theme squares, long things stretching through the entire grid. You might think the layout would force a lot of compromises in fill, but I don't think it did (although, looking back at the grid, there are plenty of short blah answers, but nearly everything is dictated by the theme density, no?). One might argue that it's not ideal to have the [Antitheft device] THE CLUB crossing two other phrases with THE in them, but who doesn't love the Club? Great crossword entry, along with GENETIC CODE, BREEZE BY, MAITRE D'S, KNEE SOCK, ART LOVER, LUDEN'S cough drops (oh, how I love those), and IN LIEU OF. I never heard of Handel's "CHANDOS Anthems," but there's a great story behind the work. I am pleased to see the reemergence of JAROD, [Lead character on TV's "The Pretender"]; oh, how that name gave people fits when Karen Tracey used it earlier this year. My favorite clues: [House or senate] for BODY (crossing [Senate staff]/AIDES), [Glaswegian : Glasgow :: Loiner : ___] for LEEDS (new one for me), [It comes with strings attached] for BONNET (er, not BIKINI, then?), [Asking too much of someone?] for USURY, and [Subject of a makeup exam?] for GENETIC CODE. A few nifty combos, too: ETNA and LAVA; BIRTH and DEATH; THE WEB, EDU, and URL; LUSTFUL and TRYST; Senators ORRIN and THAD.
Updated:
The highlight of Rich Norris's themeless CrosSynergy puzzle is SHIH-TZUS (which, as when someone lost one in my neighborhood last year and posted signs, can be misspelled as SHIT-ZU), which happens to have the same number of letters as SHAR-PEIS. (That is a terrible sentence. Moving on!) Moderately Scrabbly and pop-cultural (MRS C, NIMOY, and DEMORNAY, which becomes DEMON RAY with one transposition).
A smooth LA Times syndicated puzzle today, Frances Burton's "Major Excitement."
I presume that Henry Hook's Boston Globe puzzle, "April Fuel," originally ran in the paper on April Fool's Day. There were several knotty spots, such as the crossing of [Re element 56] with [Sandarac tree] and ["___, Pagliaccio..."] (BARIC crossing ARAR and RIDI) and the intersection of [Literary pastiches] with [Subject of Weird Al Yankovic's "The White Stuff"] (CENTOS crossing OREO).
The theme in Seth Abel's Washington Post puzzle, "Let the Show Begin!," (am I allowed to use a comma there?) highlights the TV show titles (from the '70s to the present) at the beginning of longer phrases, such as LOST IN THE SHUFFLE and THE VIEW FROM ABOVE. Yay, TV!
March 27, 2007
Wednesday, 3/28
NYS 3:45
NYT 3:30
LAT 3:15
CS 2:49
(updated at 9 a.m. Wednesday)
I thought the official crossword tournament photos by Don Christensen would have been posted by now. They're not, but in the meantime, there are photos from Nancy Shack and Pete Mitchell. If you're planning to solve the puzzles through the "play by mail" option, be prepared to unfocus your eyes so you don't inadvertently see the finals puzzle—some pictures show the finalists' answer grids on stage.
The Wednesday NYT is another constructor's debut, I think—Burton Clemans opens strong with five 15-letter entries. Each theme entry contains a trio of anagrams, such as TIMES EMITS MITES. The rest of the fill tends toward the ordinary (though I rather like ASHTON Kutcher, James SPADER, and CICADA), which is understandable since most of the Down entries intersect with two or three (!) theme entries. A note on MAO ([1972 Nixon host]): Did you know that Mao refused to use toilets and was loath to bathe or brush his teeth?
Seth A. Abel's Sun puzzle, "Pop Music Surprise," features a [JACK] rebus in five spots. Very good puzzle, lots of tasty J's and a couple X's, good fill, good clues. I'm a little unclear about the title; a JACK-IN-THE-BOX plays "Pop Goes the Weasel," but is there any other music invoked by the title? Across Lite also confused me by refusing to accept [JACK] in a single square, preferring a J alone.
Updated:
The LA Times crossword is a collaboration between David Kahn and Stephen Brown. My favorite thing about this puzzle is the (wrong) answer that came to mind for the ****LATHEH*N blank. SHEILA THE HEN! Er, no. ATTILA THE HUN. Close, though. That, and METH being the answer for [George W. Bush, for one]. Hard to see meth mentioned in the same breath as a famous person and not think "gay hooker" (thanks, Rev. Haggard!). Methodist, crystal meth...all swirled together in my head right now.
Mel Rosen's CrosSynergy puzzle ("What's New?") has four longish theme entries that start with "new" things—NEW WAVE, NEW AGE, etc. I want the pair of 9-letter entries to also be part of the theme, so I've been pondering what NEW DUNCE and NEW BEEF might be.
March 07, 2007
Thursday, 3/8
NYT 5:35
LAT 4:49
NYS 4:46
CS 3:00
(post updated at 8:30 a.m. Thursday, and in the first paragraph at 10:40 a.m.)
Gilbert H. Ludwig's NYT crossword may be a quip puzzle—a type of puzzle I typically deplore—but I loved it anyway. I even liked the quip. It's a good play on the old saw, "A stitch in time saves nine," and it works as (bad) poetry—the two halves of the quip are each eight syllables, they end in rhymes, and they have similar meter (don't ask me to elaborate—I am no expert on scansion). The non-thematic fill is even groovier. There are 16 7-letter answers and two 9's, and a great set of clues. Favorite nuggets of fill and cluing: [Frenchman with a famous line] for MAGINOT, PRITHEE, [Country of Saroyan's heritage] for ARMENIA, [It keeps things going] for INERTIA, [Nasty stinger] for FIRE ANT, YAHTZEE crossing Steve WOZNIAK, the quaint trio of CHIGNON/AMPHORA/NOSTRUM, [Cádiz kinswoman] for TIA, [Beef producers] for GRIPERS (not great fill, but much improved by the clue), and [Katzenjammers] for HANGOVERS. (Edited to add this link to World Wide Words' write-up on the word katzenjammer, which comes from the German for "the wailing of cats" and meant "hangover" or "the willies" in America before the "Katzenjammer Kids" comic strip began.) Never heard of actress FAY Spain, but I'm making a note of her name for those late-week clues that need to be tougher than Fay Wray (read more about Ms. Spain here).
I also thoroughly enjoyed Seth Abel's Sun Themeless Thursday. It had pop culture I didn't know (ADAM WEST is on Family Guy, LL COOL J had a song called "Hey Lover") and some movie names I did know (Angelina JOLIE's Oscar for Girl, Interrupted, Peter LORRE in Casablanca, director George ROMERO, and, of course, [Cruciverbalist Reagle of Wordplay], MERL). Clues I liked: the hidden brand names in [Edge, for example] for GEL, and [Tribute creator] for MAZDA; [Important 5-year-old in 1715] for LOUIS XV; the collegiate pair of [Its motto is "Lux et veritas"] for YALE UNIVERSITY and [Penn neighbor] for DREXEL; [Telephone phrase] for PASS IT ON; [Boxer, e.g.: Abbr.] for DEM; [Product with the slogan, "Smart choice, great taste"] for OLEAN; [Shot following a break] for X-RAY; and [Tissue alternative for the uncouth] for SLEEVE. Extra bonus points for the cheesiest sportscar of my youth, the TRANS AM, complete with the firebird painted on the hood.
Updated:
Fred Jackson III's LA Times puzzle showcases Apollo, with four 15-letter theme entries that can all be clued as [Apollo]. The first of these is MYTHOLOGICAL GOD, which brings to mind Richard Dawkins' oft-quoted line from The God Delusion: "I have found it an amusing strategy, when asked whether I am an atheist, to point out that the questioner is also an atheist when considering Zeus, Apollo, Amon Ra, Mithras, Baal, Thor, Wotan, the Golden Calf and the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I just go one god further." I would like to go on record stating that Thor is okay by me, because if he didn't exist, would we have Thursday crosswords?
Harvey Estes has made a ZIPpy CrosSynergy crossword, in which the first word of four theme entries (two 14's and two 8's) can be preceded by ZIP: the phrase "zip through," the USPS's ZIP code, the ZIP file format, and the ill-fated Iomega Zip Drive (named one of the 25 worst tech products ever by PC World magazine).
February 26, 2007
Tuesday, 2/27
Onion 5:25
Tausig 4:46
NYS 4:20
CS 3:17
NYT 2:47
(post updated at 12:45 p.m. Tuesday)
Allan E. Parrish's NYT puzzle contains a ton of names (and that's not really a spoiler because the clues make it obvious that you need to enter a first or last name). Now, when a puzzle expects the solver to be able to summon up 15 or more names, that's generally a puzzle I like, but that drives some people batty with rage. (I hope you aren't among them, because life's too short to get mad at a crossword.) Not only did the people in this puzzle please me, but I also liked the theme: the title IT'S ELECTRIC ties together the lively trio of TYRONE POWER, CHARLES IN CHARGE (holy crap, season 1 is available on DVD! I never watched the show—honest!—but back when Scott Baio was on Happy Days and his cousin[?] Jimmy Baio was on Soap, man, that was my Tiger Beat era.), and GRAPEFRUIT JUICE. I like the incongruity of those theme entries. Fabulous bits of fill throughout—NEON / DEION Sanders, SWAIN, "Oh, my ACHING back," the au courant TED Haggard, DAWG, PORSCHE, HI-C, PUNSTER, and the wealthy RUPERT Murdoch and IMELDA Marcos holding court in the bottom of the grid.
Seth A. Abel's Sun puzzle, "Where It's At," is where IT becomes AT. I liked the theme entries, all nonexistent stuff clued in a fairly straightforward way. There's a BANANA SPLAT and a HATCHING POST, the twice-changed SWATCH HAT, and the PRO-FAT CENTER and WICKED WATCH. Favorite clue/fill tidbits: [Golden alternative] for LAB (and if you like the doggie pictures in those links, here's the PULI and TOY Papillon), OUR GANG, [Shot for the stars?] for BOTOX, [Song and dance, perhaps] for LIE, and Manolo BLAHNIKS.
Updated:
Tyler Hinman's Onion A.V. Club crossword has no title with a hint to the theme, but I think it has to do with...cards. The long entries end with DOUBLE, STAND, SPLIT, and HIT. I think it's blackjack, but I don't know where DOUBLE fits into that scheme. Favorite clues/fill: AIR KISS, [Famous annual navigator] for CLAUS, SAYS AH, PLINTHS (which I like because it was one of those oddball gimmes and helped me out, and because it's six-sevenths consonants), EBONICS, [Like some ties] for LOUD, PLAYS TO WIN (here comes Stamford!), [Kids' TV host actually surnamed Rowe] for NYE (what, "Bill Rowe, Science Pro" wasn't deemed catchy enough?), and HEROICS.
Ben Tausig's Ink Well/Chicago Reader puzzle, "Why I Switched," features a Y-to-I switch in the theme entries (e.g., syntax error becomes SIN TAX ERROR). I liked the theme, fill, and clues, but nothing in particular is leaping out at me right now. Perhaps my mind is aware that I need to get a move on with my day. I just saw "Vote" jotted on my calendar—oh yeah, I'm supposed to vote in the city election today. Will do that on the way to picking up my son from school, which is easy enough given that my polling place is his school. Must run!
