NYS 8:24
LAT 5:33
Jonesin' 5:32
NYT 4:31
CS 3:04
CHE 2:54
WSJ 8:49
This afternoon, a Jumble link caught my eye on the Tribune home page. I was supposed to be helping Ben with his homework, but he found it more engaging to watch Mom zip through the Jumble. My fastest time was ridiculously wee, which amused me. Ben wanted to try the Jumble for Kids—and who am I to pull a kid away from playing with anagrams to finish homework? Priorities!
Here's a language-usage link for you—linguist Ben Zimmer's Oxford University Press blog post divulging the solid historical justification for using none with a plural verb (as in "None of the candidates have won yet"). I've noted that the NYT uses it, and had wondered why they didn't hew to the standard modern "rule" that none = not one = singular. Guess what? The Old English equivalent could be inflected as singular or plural. It's totally kosher to use a plural verb! Zimmer also debunks the flimsy tradition that dictates a decided difference between less and fewer. I always find it most refreshing when a Language Logger knocks grammar pedants down a peg and explains how a common usage that's often held to be wrong actually has a rich history dating back centuries.
Francis Heaney embraces the breakfast-table test for suitable crossword material, featuring a double-rebus BOWL OF / LUCKY / CHARMS in his Friday New York Sun crossword. (The title is the misleading "Spoonerisms," for a puzzle with no spoonerisms but with cereal you'd eat with a spoon.) Wikipedia suggests that the current lineup of "marshmallows" differs significantly from Francis's assortment, which appears to reflect Lucky Charms reality circa 1984. The six marshmallows are placed in symmetrical points in the grid, with Across answers including the color and the Down including the shape: yellow moon (YELLOW CAB, MOON-UNIT), pink heart (PINK FLOYD, TAKE HEART), purple horseshoe (PURPLE PROSE, HORSESHOE CRAB), orange star (AGENT ORANGE, LONE STAR beer), blue diamond (JETBLUE, NEIL DIAMOND), and green clover (SALAD GREEN, CLOVERLEAF).
This breakfast is enriched with essential vitamins and minerals, including RICE MILK, AXEL F, and Hamid KARZAI. Favorite non-theme material: [Strong, in a way] for SMELLY; [John of "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle"] for CHO; [It's used for cleavage] for AXE (which can cleave a log like nobody's business); ["___ Plain" (Nirvana song)] for ON A; and [2005 Supreme Court nominee] for Harriet MIERS. I can't stand those nasty little "marshmallows" in Lucky Charms, but liked the challenge of the two-way rebus action.
I wouldn't have minded tougher clues for Mike Nothnagel's New York Times crossword. Why? Because the fill was so great, I wish I'd had to work harder for the reward of filling in the answers. The three longest answers—STEPFORD WIVES ([Ultra-obedient companions]), ONE-NIGHT STAND ([Short-term relationship]), and GET ON THE STICK (["Start doing your job!"])—are as crisp as a fresh tortilla chip. Other multi-word answers included OZONE HOLE, CAPE VERDE ([Africa's westernmost point]), IN LEAGUE (IN CAHOOTS was one letter too long), EGO BOOSTS, PATENT LAW, SENDS AWAY, BIG APE ([Lug]), FIRE UP, STOOD IN (past-tense [Pinch-hit]), the NEW ME (Person after a lifestyle change, self-descriptively]), STOP IT (["No more!"]), and PLANS TO. Oh, and ONE PIN—in bowling, a [Spare part?]—a little clunky, whereas the other phrases were all smooth as butter. The answer I liked best was MAD-LIBS, [Laugh-producing game popular since 1958]—my son enjoys Mad-Libs, as I did in my youth.
Favorite clues: [Ways to get inside hip joints?] for MRIS (hip's a noun, not an adjective here!); [Is not misused?] for AIN'T; [Modern vent outlet?] for BLOG (oh, yeah!); [You may want to pass on these: Abbr.] for RDS (roads); [Where a tongue can be found] for (eww!) a DELI; [Ryan of "Boston Public"] for JERI (whose ex-husband's proclivity for sex clubs is one reason Barack Obama is a U.S. senator); [See stars?] for GAZE; [Big ___] for BEN (I started with the Big TEN and thus had EGO TOOSTS); [Sect governed by the Universal House of Justice] for BAHAI; and [Jersey workers] for KNITTERS. Nobody's crazy about the [Fragrant resin] ELEMI in a crossword, but everything else is so nice, I can accept it. (Don't confuse ELEMI with the [Kind of resin], EPOXY.)
Matt Jones's Jonesin' puzzle is entitled "Did I Stutter?" The five theme entries take a phrase, stutter a consonant sound, and change the spelling. Rocker Tommy Lee becomes a [Martial artist who practices on straw matting?], TATAMI LEE, for example. (This one took me the longest to understand.) And "holy cow" becomes [Sacred beans used to make chocolate?], HOLY CACAO. There are also POPPY SECEDE (poppy seed), NANETTE WORTH (net worth), and PENNY LALANNE (Penny Lane). Favorite clues: [Oscar category?] for MUPPET (Oscar the Grouch); [___ off (gets lost)] for EFFS; and [You get one when you come home] for a RUN in baseball.
Updated:
Annemarie Brethauer's Chronicle of Higher Education crossword for today, "Animal Tales," meanders away from academia to kid lit, making for an easier-than-usual solve. The theme is classic novels featuring multiple animal characters, and the non-theme fill is less abstruse than that of the typical CHE crossword. Favorite fill: the uncouth YAHOOS from Gulliver's Travels.
Dan Naddor's LA Times puzzle has six theme entries that double an O and plenty of long fill to boot. [Animated feature about Humpty Dumpty?], for example, is an EGG CARTOON (carton). Odd that this answer crosses CARTON, clued as a Dickens character, while the other theme entries' base words aren't included—but I'll give the constructor the benefit of the doubt about fill options for that section, what with the two stacked theme entries running through it! Yet another crossword venue demonstrates that the word SPERM is A-OK, at least when clued as [Kind of whale]. Overall, good fill, good clues.
Randall Hartman's CrosSynergy crossword, "On the Beach," relates the theme to On the Beach—the book, the movie based on it, and a rock album. Plenty of good fill, lots of names from pop culture—fun puzzle.
"Alice Long" (Mike Shenk) crafted this week's Wall Street Journal crossword with a "Writers' Strike" theme in which PEN is deleted from the base phrases to generate the theme entries. Favorite theme entry: "ELOPE, ANN MILLER" (Penelope Ann Miller).
Gotta run!
February 07, 2008
Friday, 2/8
February 06, 2008
Thursday, 2/7
NYT 4:43
NYS 4:02
CS 3:20
LAT 3:18
I'm feeling a little blogged out, having done the show writeup and another post elsewhere. And I haven't had supper yet, even though it's after 10 p.m., and I have a cold. So I fear I will give short shrift to tonight's crosswords.
Kenneth J. Berniker's New York Times crossword has a Thursday-friendly gimmick: It's a NO-FLY ZONE, so FLY has been eliminated from the other six theme entries. Pairs of theme entries intersect in two corners of the grid, and in one of these corners, both theme entries contain a Z (but not where they cross). So it's ambitious from a structural/theme standpoint. The [Hairy-leaved plant] is the VENUS TRAP (flytrap), for example, and one might say, "Waiter, THERE'S A (fly) IN MY SOUP." Didn't know [Bluesman Willie] LOMAX, or that the A-team and B-team are backed up by the C-TEAM or [Third-stringers]. And what is ZAX? Sometimes in the applet, the last letter or two of a clue is cut off. [Hole-punching tool for a slater], I'm guessing, but that last letter looks more like a miniature capital N. (Does anyone else have that problem in the applet sometimes?) Favorite clue: [Bush people, for short] for GOP. Been a while since we've seen YARE, [Easily maneuvered, as a boat]; one of those words I learned from crosswords and haven't quite managed to work into conversation yet. 1-Down had a shout-out to regular reader/commenter Penny; [Penny ___] turned out to be SAVER but I first thought she might be a PINCH or ANTES.
Alan Olschwang's "Themeless Thursday" in the New York Sun had four 15-letter entries traveling in the Across direction interwoven with three 15s going Down. My favorite of the 15s is FOR OLD TIMES' SAKE. Two unfamiliar 3-letter Chinese names—Wai LIN and the boat Mon LEI (bought in 1946 by the Ripley's Believe It Or Not guy)—as well as an unfamiliar insult comic (LISA Lampanelli) and an unfamiliar arena football team (KATS). Let us not forget the unfamiliar movie title, ["Chesty Anderson, ___" (1976 Shari Eubank film)] cluing USN. (The IMDb plot keywords for the movie include Female Nudity, Catfight, Gangster, Buxom, Nudity. Excuse me, how is "buxom" a plot point? Overall, the clues seemed fairly easy for a themeless Sun crossword. What a relief to have no TV game show–style crossword clues!
Updated:
Mike Peluso's LA Times crossword has four theme entries clued [Temple]. Shirley Temple was HEIDI'S PORTRAYER, there's a HOUSE OF GOD, Temple University is the OWLS' CAMPUS, and it's also the FOREHEAD FEATURE on either side. I liked the [One that may be pregnant] PAUSE, and HOBO crossing a HOT ROD, surf HODADS, and a PIANO BAR.
Stella Daily and Bruce Venzke's CrosSynergy puzzle, "Chain of Power," strings together three power ___s in each theme row. Finding the word breaks is up to the solver. I love the word DOGGED ([Totally tenacious]); don't you? My last square was the O in TOKES. [Tips for a Vegas dealer]? Really? Huh. The marijuana sense of the word's more familiar to me. The crossing (AWOKEN) was easy if you pay attention to verb tense, but I neglected to do so. (And it couldn't have been TAKES with TAKERS elsewhere in the grid. Now, I would've used AWAKEN/TAKES and changed TAKERS to LAKERS crossing LATEN or LATER.)
Orange's Big Day on Television
All right, if you want to hear my long-winded tale about being a contestant on today's episode of Merv Griffin's Crosswords, click below and read on!
In October, the Merv Griffin's Crosswords staff flew to Chicago to hold auditions. They chose 50 contestants and flew 25 to L.A. for each of two taping days (mine was November 10). They paid for the airfare, L.A. ground transportation, and one night at a hotel. I asked them to fly me out a day early (paying for the extra hotel night myself) so I could see a couple friends. So if you think about it, I was already a winner before I'd even gone to the studio—I won a weekend trip to L.A.! It's so exploitative, the way game shows usually don't pay travel expenses for out-of-town contestants and don't give them much in the way of runner-up prizes.
So: Back on November 10, the shuttle bus picked up everyone at the hotel and delivered us to the studio. We contestants bided plenty of time in the green room, having snacks, being told the show's rules, signing our legally binding agreements, watching a couple episodes of Crosswords, and getting to know one another. We had to take potty breaks in an escorted group formation. It was awesomely kindergartenish! Eventually, after two quintets had been carted away for taping, they called another five names, including mine. We visited the makeup artists and the microphone wirers and eventually taped the show that aired today.
The other day, I Googled Crosswords and discovered a game show fan's blog featuring detailed play-by-play writeups of a bunch of game shows. I left a comment saying I hoped he would blog Wednesday's Crosswords, and voila! Here's the color commentary, which I will refer to while I write. So convenient!
Round 1: Ilene Gleicher knew a lot of the answers too, but she forgot what they'd told us about pressing the buzzer button a zillion times (no Jeopardy!-style buzzer lockout) so Jeff Taylor rang in first most of the time. And Jeff knew a lot, so his podium's bank account grew while Ilene's lay fallow.
Round 2: It's the March of the Spoilers! Here we come! Seven-year-old Ben was mighty psyched to see his mom striding down the ramp on TV this afternoon. Jeff continued racking up dollars, but eventually didn't ring in on a Star Wars clue. (He said his friends would razz him because he's a big Star Wars geek and should've gotten that!) STORMTROOPERS! Finally, some payoff for all the times I've watched my son and husband playing the Lego Star Wars video game. I booted Jeff from the money podium. The next clue was a Crossword Extra, and I wagered conservatively. It's not in my nature to bet big. The next clue was terrible. [Plane's lane] is an AIRWAY? Like hell. An AIRWAY is that tube you breathe through. I think the aeronautical path is called an airlane. A few clues later, we learn that there are such things as FANTAIL pigeons and goldfish. Geeze, who writes these puzzles?!? (Oh, right.) More clues, more answers, yadda yadda; I added more than $3,000 to the podium, and held onto it. Not too shabby!
Round 3: Also known as "The round of spoilers! Aughh!" Four-letter word for [Deadlocked], **E*. I said TIED, braap braap, that's wrong. Jeff would've said TIED too, he said afterwards, but once I got it wrong, he rejiggered his thinking and said EVEN—which was correct for the spoil. He retook the money podium and I slunk back to spoiler row. A few clues later, I was the first to ring in for [Where Idi Amin ruled]. Dude! I love geography! But when Jeff didn't ring in and Ilene blanked on it, damn, I didn't want to get it right and take over the Podium of Death in the last round. So I shrugged it off. Nobody else got it (or chose to answer), so I wasn't locked out. But then! I guessed SLANG for IDIOM on the next clue and got locked out. (I have been given credit for being savvy enough to take a dive and avoid the Podium of Death, but I don't remember this one at all. I have no idea if I tanked it on purpose or not. I tend to think not.) So there I stood, in the dark, unable to ring in on anything.
Eventually, Andy is the only one who recognizes the "Wizard of Id" answer, and successfully spoils. (It's a terrible comic strip, honestly.) He opts for Jeff's podium, obviously. Ilene hasn't been budged from her podium the whole show. Nobody rescued her from the PoD. The next clue, Andy and Ilene both ring in. Andy somehow manages to spell RADIATOR without the initial R. (He lost more on ADIATOR than he made on SIRE, so he actually depleted the podium rather than adding to it.) Ilene rescues him from certain spoilage by spelling it correctly, and—bing bing bing, game's over, Andy, you're our winner! I saw on the broadcast that if she hadn't, I was the first spoiler to ring in. If she'd tanked, that $7,250 would have been mine, all mine!
But it was not to be. It's Crosswords, after all, where valor and smarts go unrewarded and sheer, dumb luck can win the game. I would have extended hearty congratulations to a worthy winner if Jeff had won, but alas, he didn't. (And he looked rather peeved, too. Rightfully so.)
Afterwards, Andy thanked Ilene for saving him from the spoil, but he did not look Jeff or me in the eye, much less say, "Hey, thanks for the seven grand! I couldn't have done it without you!" (Hmph.)
Bonus round: We four losers watched the final bonus round on a small monitor in the corner of the studio. For every clue that Andy said "Pass" on, Jeff and I said the answers. Mm-hmm, either of us would've walked out of there with twelve grand and a vacation.
Postmortem: I will agree with what others have said elsewhere—that the show's format and gameplay could stand a ton of improvement. Imagine if the player at the Podium of Death had a chance to gain the money podium. Imagine if the show rewarded skill far more than luck and timing (hey, Jeopardy! does a fine job of that). Imagine if the money moved around with a player, rather than being bound to the podium. Imagine if players could tackle the crossword the way they normally do—with a chance to see the rest of the grid and to eyeball crossing answers and clues. Imagine if I had $12,250 and a lovely vacation. (Sigh.)
But it was still a ton of fun. I wrangled a free California trip out of it, met a couple dozen really nice people, learned about the seamy underbelly of TV production (it's not just Dave Letterman's studio that's freezing cold! the production staff wore coats and scarves), and acquitted myself respectably on national TV. Not to mention the prize! Why, in about four months, I'll receive a lovely blue Merv Griffin's Crosswords wristwatch that doesn't have any numbers on it. Doesn't everyone covet a Croton watch? Hello?
P.S. A friend hopes to upload my part of the show to YouTube on Friday, so I'll post the links in a couple days if all goes as planned. If your local channels don't air the show or you missed it, you'll have another chance to watch me...lose.
February 05, 2008
Wednesday, 2/6
NYS 4:20
LAT 3:44
NYT 3:20
CS 2:56
Forget Super Tuesday—we're moving on to Wacky Wednesday! Yes, Wednesday, February 6, the day my Merv Griffin's Crosswords appearance is scheduled. My mother's coming over to watch the show, so I won't be blogging about it right after it's on. Maybe a day or two later, I will share the sordid tales. If you haven't seen the show yet, be forewarned: The ending is given away in the comments.
Tuesday afternoon, I watched a show featuring five other people from my taping day. Doug, who works with my cousin, acquitted himself quite well, racking up an impressive amount of money in the first round. Alas, spoiler musical chairs cost him the podium. Jackie, whom I hadn't chatted with, lost the lousy podium and worked her way back up to the loaded podium and won! She was so polished in the green room, I figured she was a busy professional of some sort. I learned on TV that she's got three kids under the age of 5! The lack of sleep for five years hasn't dimmed her intellect. I had also chatted with Barbara, and was disappointed that she didn't get many chances to shine. I don't remember the other two contestants—in a green room with 25 people, alas, you can't get to know everyone.
Larry Shearer's New York Times crossword puzzle includes FISH, the last Across answer, as a hint to the theme. As the clue spells it out, it's a [three-word hint], as in "F is H": Each theme entry begins with an F-word changed to an H-word. Follow suit, firing squads, feed the kitty, and fairy tales become a HOLLOW SUIT ([Exec with no ideas?]), HIRING SQUADS, HEED THE KITTY ([First rule of lion taming?]), and HAIRY TALES. Lively fill includes the hopscotch SIDEWALK, "TOP THIS," ECSTASY and BLISS (both clued as a [Cloud-nine state]), and the [Starbucks size] GRANDE. ALIA looks like lousy fill, but clued as [Suffix with Saturn], it evokes Saturnalia—who doesn't like the occasional reversal of the social order?
In Gary Steinmehl's New York Sun puzzle, the "3/4 Turn" title indicates that the third and fourth letters of the five theme entries are swapped. Polo pony and hide-a-bed become a swimming POOL PONY and HIED ABED—the clue for the latter is [Went quickly while lying on a mattress?], and my eyebrow is arched. To [Perform "Aquarius"?] is to SING OF THE ZODIAC (sign). Busy signals and beta-blocker also get the theme treatment. Favorite clues: [Woman famous for channeling her energy?] for Gertrude EDERLE, the woman who swam the English Channel in 1926; [Master, e.g.: Abbr.] for ORIG (as in master recordings); [e, e.g.] for CONSTANT; [Chuffed, this side of the Atlantic] for GLAD; and [Hamburger helper word?] for the German BITTE. Top fill: LE DUC THO, NURSE'S AIDE, BINOCULARS.
Updated:
Patrick Jordan's CrosSynergy puzzle, "What's the Catch?', puts the spotlight on things that can be caught: a FISH (STORY), a PLANE (GEOMETRY), a BALL (LIGHTNING), and a COLD (CREAM). The only one of those four I've caught lately is a cold, unfortunately.
Elizabeth Long's LA Times crossword has an unusual theme. All three theme entries are things a speaker might say if they're getting cut off because they've rattled on for too long. The clues are truncated, as are the answers—I'M ALMOST FINISHE-, JUST ONE MORE THIN-, and STOP CUTTING ME OF-. I liked this theme.
February 04, 2008
Tuesday, 2/5
Tausig 4:30
NYS 4:23
Onion 4:20
NYT 3:17
LAT 2:56
CS 2:42
I'm having fun reading the entries to the crosswordese haiku/senryu contest! Some make no sense at all, and most have confounded my expectations. I'd envisioned funny little poems using crosswordese words in their proper context, but some of my favorite entries use crosswordese as a stand-in for words that sound similar.
Frank Virzi's New York Sun crossword, "Do Drop In," instructs the solver to do just that: drop the letters IN from the base phrases that birth each theme entry. (Speaking of birth: The funniest clue was [Like the little kid inside some of of us?] for FETAL.) Most of the theme entries make perfect sense to me. FEELING NO PA (pain) amuses me, as does shopping at the DEAN MART (Martin). ENGLISH MUFF and ALL-POINTS BULLET capture my fancy a bit less, but make sense. I recognize that NEAT AS A P comes from "neat as a pin," but I can't for the life of me parse that. Oh! I see it now! "NEAT, A.S.A.P." monkeys with the word spacing. Okay, now that I understand that one, it's my new favorite. Tuesday is Super Duper Tuesday for the primaries and caucuses, and there are a few topical clues in the mix. There's plain ol' VOTE, TUES. clued as ["Super Duper" day: Abbr.], and...all right, there were just two topical answers. But those answers, along with [Washington safety Taylor who was murdered in 2007] (SEAN), offer some au courant content along the lines of what Jim H was asking for.
The New York Times crossword by Peter Collins has a more ordinary theme than some of his other creations. The four longest answers contain a smattering of HERBS embedded within them—PARKED ILLEGALLY, I'M IN TROUBLE, PRESS AGENTS, and LENGTHY MEETINGS. From a culinary standpoint, I must advise against adding any of those to PEPSI or HO HOS, today's junk-food contingent. Favorite entries: ALGIERS, Fran DRESCHER, HURRAH, and HOCK. I just learned that the statuettes for the National Magazine Awards, [The Oscars of magazine publishing], are called ELLIES. That's short for "elephants," and they're miniature Alexander Calder stabiles.
Updated:
Francis Heaney's Onion A.V. Club crossword is custom-made for fans of movies and pop culture. Francis squeezes in a whopping 10 theme entries, paying snarky homage to the only five actors to have ACCEPTed their GOLDEN / RASPBERRY awards (the Razzies) for worst actor or actress IN PERSON. They are HALLE /BERRY (for Catwoman—in her acceptance speech, she said "It was just what my career needed - I was at the top and now I'm at the bottom."), BILL COSBY (Leonard Part 6), BEN AFFLECK (for three movies!), TOM GREEN (Freddy Got Fingered), and TOM SELLECK (Christopher Columbus: The Discovery). Tons of fun, Francis!
Ben Tausig's Ink Well/Chicago Reader crossword, "Early Opposition," adds a negativity prefix to the beginning of the Toxic Avenger, fairgrounds, trust fund, and bandwagon to create the NONTOXIC AVENGER, UNFAIR GROUNDS, ANTITRUST FUND, and CONTRABAND WAGON. Fresh fill, fresh clues. One out-of-left-field answer—NEU is the [German group with "Hallogallo"], and also the German word for "new."
The LA Times crossword is bylined by Michael Langwald, and I suspect the puzzle marks his debut. The theme kept me guessing until the end—what do BRAINTEASER, HOUSE TRAILER, and MAGAZINE CLIP have in common? They are all MOVIE EXTRAS, such as you would see in the previews before a movie. I like that MOVIE EXTRAS is clued as [Uncredited actors], rather than being swapped out for something blah and factual like PREVIEWS. Great answers in the longer bits of fill, too—ABOUT-FACE, TRAPEZE, ORIGAMI, DEAN'S LIST, PIT STOPS. If this is a debut, it's a very polished one.
Thomas Schier's CrosSynergy crossword, "Body Conditions," groups adjectives that include body parts—e.g., TIGHT-FISTED, HARD-NOSED, BUG-EYED. The uncommon word ADDUCE is in here, clued with [Cite as evidence]. This is how much of a crossword nerd I have always been: In ninth grade, we had a sub in German class named Mr. Adduci, and in my head I linked him with ADDUCE. What 14-year-old knows that word? The one who has been doing crosswords circa 1980. I would also have taken note of a Ms. HOD—that old [Mortar porter] pops in here, too. The [Freshwater crustaceans with seven pairs of legs] are ISOPODS, and that's my favorite photo of a giant isopod to the side. (The little isopods, or roly-polies, sowbugs, or pillbugs, are much less daunting, aren't they?)
February 03, 2008
Monday, 2/4
CS 3:32
NYS 3:17
LAT 3:03
NYT 2:32
The crosswordese haiku/senryu/short doggerel contest is here; I'll choose the winner on Saturday. (The prize is Russell Brown's wooden crossword earrings.)
The New York Times crossword interface was having some technical glitches tonight—the Java applet still doesn't have the Monday puzzle, three hours after it was supposed to be there. No worries—the puzzle's available in Across Lite, too, which is where I solved it.
The byline reads Dave and Tracy Mackey—Dave has had his work published in the NYT before, but I believe this is Tracy's debut. (Congrats!) The theme of their New York Times puzzle is "See you again!"—three folksy phrases that mean that include "DON'T BE A STRANGER," "DROP IN ANY TIME," and "Y'ALL COME BACK NOW." Au revoir means the same thing, but it's hardly folksy so it would be out of place here. My favorite clues took me back to my '70s youth: [Where "you can do whatever you feel," in a hit 1978 song] for YMCA, and ["Happy Days" cool cat, with "the"] for FONZ. I think the with "the" is extraneous—didn't his friends call him Fonz, sans article, when addressing him face to face? Or do I remember this wrong?
Updated:
Mike Torch's LA Times crossword has six theme entries that begin with an xAxA word (and one, BABA WAWA, that also ends with such a word). There's also PAPA BEAR, LA-LA LAND, GAGA OVER, DADA ARTIST, and MAMA TOLD ME. Now, caca fails the breakfast test and "ha ha" doesn't really begin a stand-alone phrase. But the crossword-friendly rara avis! Where is it? Kicked to the curb because the vowel sound's different? And Nana Mouskouri! Yes, I know, you'd need a bigger grid to comfortably fit everyone in. And I liked this crossword—six theme entries that are fun to say, along with good fill (e.g., DRIBBLE, ORLANDO, PREQUEL, QUARRY).
Laura Sternberg's New York Sun crossword, "J Crew," features three J.J.J. people. I'd never heard of JAMES J. JEFFRIES, a boxer of note a century ago. (Wikipedia says he was a "Great White Hope" touted as the white man who could beat Jack Johnson, a black boxer. He couldn't.) J. JONAH JAMESON, Peter Parker's editor/boss in Spider-Man, was recently in another crossword with J. Alfred Prufrock. And then there's JESSE JACKSON, JR.—my mother's representative in Congress. (He's endorsed Obama in tomorrow's primary.) Love the extra J names—JOAN JETT and JANE EYRE, JUDE Law, Jason sounds-like-a-J GIAMBI, and Elvis silent-J STOJKO.
Rich Norris's CrosSynergy crossword, "A Bunch of Baloney," has five theme entries beginning with "baloney"—WIND, HOT AIR, BUNK, FUDGE, and GAS. I don't think I've heard FUDGE used that way—perhaps the people who say that are the same ones who eat PEA SALAD. Plenty of longish fill here (ERIC IDLE!), and three Zs and an X.
February 02, 2008
Sunday, 2/3
LAT 9:32
NYT 9:10
WaPo 8:13
PI 7:58
BG 7:10
CS 5:27
This Matt Ginsberg hasn't been publishing crosswords for so long, but he's making a name for himself, isn't he? His Sunday New York Times crossword is called "Just Follow Directions," which sounded like a promise that this crossword would have some sort of cockeyed hidden directions we'd have to follow in order to make sense out of the theme. It turned out that the theme entries didn't contain the directions to be followed afterwards—we have to follow the directions inherent within phrases to figure out how to enter the answers in the first place.
Words like up, left, down, and right are zapped out of the theme entries and replaced with a bend in the entry. [Accelerated] means PICKED UP SPEED, which is entered as PICKEDS at 29-Across and DEEPS (which is SPEED if you read upwards) at 5-Down. The upshot is that both parts of these bent entries look nutty, because the first part contains only the first letter of the last part, and the last part is running upwards or to the left about half the time. Because they can be confusing, let's run through the other theme entries. [Pineapple desserts] (11-Across) are UPSIDE (down) CAKES, appearing as UPSIDEC crossing a downward CAKES. 35-Down is ALL (right) ALREADY, with ALLA crossing ALREADY. 34-Down is TWO (left) feet, which looks like TWOF crossing TEEF. 54-Down is OUT IN (left) FIELD, OUTINF crossing DLEIF. 41-Down is EXTREME (right) WING, EXTREMEW and WING. 83-Across is The Wiz's "EASE ON (Down) THE ROAD," appearing as EASEONT and THEROAD. 113-Across is STAND (up) COMIC, STANDC and CIMOC. And 109-Across is SETTING (up) SHOP, SETTINGS and POHS. These entries aren't in symmetrical spots, but the absent clues for the second part make it obvious when something is subject to the theme's warping.
I commend Matt Ginsberg for the bendy twist on the standard crossword format. Other answers and clues I liked include the [Autobiographical short story by Edgar Allan Poe], ELEONORA, which I haven't read. There's a [Mathematical sequence of unknown length], N-TUPLE. Giving something a HARD LOOK is to give it [Careful consideration]. [Threw off the scent] is one way to have MISLED. [Imp] means GREMLIN, and I like both words. KING LEAR was a [Repeated John Gielgud role]. [What a man and a woman become in marriage] is ONE FLESH; of course, one could say the same for two women or two men who get married). [Execrate] means DESPISE, and somehow I was blanking on what execrate meant. [Bone formation] is called OSTOSIS—yay, anatomy and physiology! There's a crazy-ass chemical formula, [NA2CO3], for SODA ASH. The [Flower also called a naked lady] is the AMARYLLIS; Wikipedia tells me it's called that because it blooms when the stem is "naked" and has no leaves, not because it bears any resemblance to a naked woman—though there is a Georgia O'Keeffe "Red Amaryllis." [Unblemished] can mean STERLING, as in "sterling character." [Slams] means the plural noun, criticism or FLAK. I always love to see PASHAS, the [Turkish pooh-bahs]. [Imagine, informally] is S'POSE. And that [Great ball of fire] is the SUN.
Merl Reagle's Philadelphia Inquirer puzzle, "Cliché Combos 2," is (the Across Lite notepad explains) a follow-up to a December 2006 crossword in which Merl mused on other clichés in the English language. There are words that get paired together, and synonyms just don't fly. For example, sometimes I have UNMITIGATED GALL, but not just "pure gall" or "incredible gall." I am not, however, MORALLY BANKRUPT—maybe occasionally morally overdrawn, but far from bankrupt—but "morally exhausted" just isn't a phrase we hear. More of a thoughtful puzzle than a funny one, but it's a welcome thoughtfulness. I did have a moment of amusement, when I saw that the S-word in [Not just a total S-------, but a ____ ____] was 8 letters long. "What's a more idiomatic phrase than 'total shithead'?" I asked myself. (It was PERFECT STRANGER.)
Emily Cox and Henry Rathvon's online Boston Globe crossword, "Double Zero," actually doubles the letter O, not the number 0, and reclues the altered phrases. My two favorite theme entries were DOOM PERIGNON, the [Bubbly to be avoided?], and FLAT BROOKE, [Cardboard cutout of Shields?]. The BEAUTY SALOON is spot-on, too, and has the look of a seed entry that started the whole theme, which was entertaining and not too tough.
Jim Page's Washington Post crossword, "Never Quit," concocts two-word phrases in which both words end with -TRY (e.g., WINTRY COUNTRY, CIRCUITRY INDUSTRY), all tied together with the central answer, TRY, TRY AGAIN. Fill highlights: multi-word answers including AM RADIO, MEL BLANC, TV CREW, a PLUS ONE golf handicap, LET'S EAT, and TAKE ME.
Updated:
Rich Norris's alter ego, Nora Pearlstone, constructed the syndicated LA Times puzzle, "Special Ops." Paying attention to the title might've helped me glom onto the theme sooner, and as for the non-theme parts, well, either the clues are on the tough side or my brain's burner is only set to simmer. The special OPs are added to base phrases to generate the theme entries, like a dinosaur MESOZOIC OPERA, and the GREAT WALLOP OF CHINA. It was [Daffy under Elmer's rule?], or OPPRESSED DUCK, that tipped me off to the theme finally. Fun theme! VALLEY OF THE DOLLOPS of whipped cream? Yes, I would vacation there. The [Smartly dressed military unit?] called FOP-TROOP? (Note extra OP that was in the original.) I would watch that reality show on TV. Favorite clues: [One in a zillion?] for the letter ZEE; [Rank one?] for AMATEUR; [Didn't give up] for HOPED; [Nationals, before 2005] for EXPOS (Montreal Expos moved to D.C. and became the Nats? I forgot that); and [Small clearings?] for AHEMS. I got mired in the lower right corner, with a FALSE arrest crossing free throws (FTS), a PART that's played, and the end of a theme entry that I didn't know had the OP at the end. Did you know BITUMEN was [Asphalt]? Is this tied in with coal, or is bituminous coal particularly asphalty?
Mel Rosen's themeless CrosSynergy "Sunday Challenge" is of medium difficulty for a themeless. I'd never heard of the Isetta or BUBBLE CAR, but the SmartCar sure looks a lot like that. The fill includes both ends of the alphabet—ABC and WXYZ. The first name of [Italian philosopher ___ Bruno, whose name was given to a lunar crater] is GIORDANO; the stuffed pizza by that name is pretty tasty too.
February 01, 2008
Paging Esther Lindstrom
I had to watch Merv Griffin's Crosswords today because my e-mail in-box received an unusual text message from someone named Matt. "Are you Esther on crosswords? You're hot!"
Esther, if you're out there and you'd like Matt's phone number, drop me a line. (And sorry you lost the Podium of Money when there was no time to regain it!)
Is it customary to get hit on after appearing on Merv Griffin's Crosswords? Perhaps I'll find out next Wednesday.
Saturday, 2/2
Newsday 11:18
NYT 6:10
LAT 5:48
CS 3:17
Young constructor Natan Last plays it a bit Scrabbly with his themeless Saturday New York Times crossword. The structure isn't the same old, same old—two 14-letter Across entries are linked by three long Down entries (a 15 bracketed by two 12s), with plenty of flow from one section to another. I didn't encounter any real trouble spots, other than having a typo in 3-Down and blanking on what the [1979 film with sequels II to VI] could be. I had the STAR part and couldn't get Star Wars out of my head. STAR TREK! ("Khan!!") The long answers included the double-Scrabble JE NE SAIS QUOI and the idiomatic LOST ONE'S COOL bracketing ON TOP OF THE WORLD, crossed by BRING TO JUSTICE and those [Seemingly silent types], VENTRILOQUISTS. AREOLA is clued as an [Interstice]; would you believe I saw one on the way to dinner tonight? Yeah. Surprising to say the least, though at least it was about 30 degrees outside and no longer subzero. [Having the most pizzazz] clued ZIPPIEST, and while I first entered ZESTIEST, I much prefer ZIPPIEST. (And who doesn't like the word pizazz? It's got as many Z's as [Zyzzyva], or BEETLE.) Heck, I use the word zippy here, and I like the zippy stuff in my crosswords. [Meter readers?] are POETS. Did anyone else think [Al-___] was going to be something Arabic? Al-Aqaba, Al-Jazeera? No, it was Al-ANON this time. The [Big bang creator] was merely an N-TEST and not something cosmic. The verb REFEREE was clued as [Enforce the rules]. I never knew that PASCHAL was an adjective (derived from Pasch, which somehow doubles as Easter and Passover). I didn't know the phrase coup d'OEIL or "survey made with a glance"; it's French from stroke + eye. I like RUN FOR IT and ["She's gonna blow!"]. Did you know that the EAR is [Where the utricle is]? I did. Ears! I like me some geography, so DJIBOUTI, the [Neighbor of Somalia], is good stuff. ESPRESSO is a brewed drink, not brewed the same way as beer. I don't think I've heard of [Two-time figure skating Olympic gold medalist Protopopov], first name OLEG—but I love that last name. Sounds like the prototype of a pop-off. I don't eat chicken wings—too much trouble, not enough payoff—so I needed crossings to inform me that an [Option for wings] is CAJUN. I knew TIRESIAS was blind, but I didn't recall how it came to pass that he lost his sight—serves him right for...accidentally seeing Athena naked? By accident? Aw, that's not fair. PAD THAI is a good entry, but I'm not an Asian noodle fan. If there are no typos in this rambling paragraph, I will be astonished. And if there are some, then I cast all blame on the wine over dinner.
Updated:
Well, I had typos and fixed them after Sherry and Nancy e-mailed me to tip me off. They and Patrick B2 are my most reliable typo-pointer-outers, and I'm grateful for their eagle eyes! (Do ernes have keen eagle eyes, too? Maybe these three have erne eyes.)
I woke up this morning with a sore throat and went back to sleep until 9:00. Now I've been up for two hours and I'm...growing tired. That's my excuse, anyway, for a deadly solving time on the Newsday "Saturday Stumper" by Stanley Newman, because a friend finished the same puzzle in just over half my time. Favorite entries: "OUI, MADAME," the [Sommelier's phrase]; MAGIC 8-BALL, [Mattel toy] (unadvertised numeral in the grid!); STAGE-MANAGE, or [Run sub rosa]; AQUA VELVA, [Brut alternative]; TWEEZER, or [Stamp collector's need]; DEMO TAPE, or [Musical intro]; and PTOLEMY I, the ["Savior" king], because of the PT start. Other favorite clues: [Washington group] for PRESS CORPS; ROMA TOMATO [Sauce source] crossing PREGO tomato sauce; [Parlor product, for short] for TAT; [Columbia offering] for PHD; and [Pressing needs] for DELTS (as in deltoid muscles).
Michael Wiesenberg's LA Times crossword seemed a little dry—in my head, I think I'm comparing it to Karen Tracey's Sun puzzle yesterday, with a bunch of names I found fun. Phrases like SEEN AT and IN ANSWER are a tad less vivacious, and one of the names here was unknown to me—LINA, [Soprano Cavalieri, a contemporary of Caruso]. Favorite clues: [Bavarian beef?] for ACH (there's also "GUTE Nacht," or "good night"); [Unholy rollers?] for DICE; and [Hill partner] for MCGRAW (as in the publisher, McGraw-Hill).
Leaving themeless country, we visit Lynn Lempel's Wednesday-level CrosSynergy puzzle, "You Gotta Have Heart." The theme entries start with words that can follow heart—BURN RUBBER yields heartburn, STRINGBEAN gives heartstring, and so on. This puzzle had a very fresh vibe to it, light fill, fun clues. And when I figured out the answer to [Drive back] was BEAT OFF, I laughed heartily because, well, you can see where Answers.com redirects you if you search for that term's definition. Racy! Changing subjects (honest!), there are the cute boys HUGH Grant and GREG Louganis, and a TRYST of a [Hot date]. Favorite clue: [Masters of spin?] for ice SKATERS.
Crossword haiku/senryu contest
How'd you like to win a pair of handcrafted wooden earrings featuring a 9x9 crossword grid?
Crossword constructor and woodworker Russell Brown, who comments here often, sent me this lovely crossword brooch:
As the description at Russell's site says, "The pin is about 1 3/8" square by just over 1/8" thick. It depicts, or at least suggests, a 9x9 crossword grid, using maple for the spaces, wenge (an African wood) for the black squares, and bubinga (another African wood) for a border. There are 16 pieces of maple (one for every across entry, if you will), 11 pieces of wenge, and 4 pieces of bubinga, for a total of 31 pieces of wood."
The same grid is also available in dangly earrings, which Russell also sent me. Alas, I don't wear earrings any more. So I'd like to give those lovely earrings away as a prize in a haiku contest. (You can, of course, also purchase the earrings or pin directly from Russell.)
Your challenge: To pack as much crosswordese into the senryu format as you can. Senryu are much like haiku, but they can be a little shorter, the syllable count per line can vary, and the poem had better be funny. You can certainly adhere to the 5-7-5 haiku format if you wish, but we're looking for entertainment more than evocative beauty. The judge's decision will be final and likely capricious.
