Relative difficulty: Challenging (**for a Monday**) (**esp. if you're solving Downs-only**)
THEME: "GESUNDHEIT!" (56A: Polite response to the ends of 17-, 25-, 34- and 48-Across) — the ends of the themers represent a sneeze: "Ah, ah, ah ... Choo!":
Theme answers:
BAR MITZVAH (17A: Coming-of-age ceremony)
THE CASBAH (25A: Place "rocked" in a Clash song)
CHEETAH (34A: Animal that can go 0-60 in three seconds)
JIMMY CHOO (48A: Famed shoe designer)
Word of the Day: DOJA CAT (36D: "Paint the Town Red" rapper) —
Amala Ratna Zandile Dlamini (born October 21, 1995), known professionally as Doja Cat (/ˈdoʊdʒə/), is an American rapper, singer, songwriter, and record producer. Born and raised in Los Angeles, California, she began making and releasing music on SoundCloud as a teenager. Her song "So High" caught the attention of Kemosabe and RCA Records, with whom she signed a recording contract prior to the release of her debut extended play, Purrr! in 2014.
After a hiatus from releasing music and the uneventful rollout of her debut studio album, Amala (2018), Doja Cat earned viral success as an internet meme with her 2018 single "Mooo!", a novelty song in which she makes humorous claims about being a cow. Capitalizing on her growing popularity, she released her second studio album, Hot Pink, in the following year. The album later reached the top ten of the US Billboard 200 and spawned the single "Say So"; its remix featuring Nicki Minaj topped the Billboard Hot 100. Her third studio album, Planet Her (2021), spent four weeks at number two on the Billboard 200 and spawned the top ten singles "Kiss Me More" (featuring SZA), "Need to Know", and "Woman". Her fourth studio album, Scarlet (2023), adopted a hip-hop-oriented sound and peaked within the top five of the Billboard 200, while its lead single "Paint the Town Red" became her most successful song to date, as it marked her first solo number-one on the Hot 100 among eight other countries.
Did not like this grid at all. Ridiculously massive corners (esp. for an early-week grid) with a horribly choppy center. Centering CHEETAH in the grid appears to have had cascading consequences, resulting in ... this. So we get these absurd banks of 7s in every corner, but no good / spicy / interesting long Downs, of the type that tend to liven up themed puzzles. So no long Downs, but plenty of short dull stuff (ALEE AGAR SIS MAHI ODIE TNT AMIN (why!?) ELENA ADAS UNA SMEE etc.). Those banks of 7s are OK—they're not ugly or anything, they're just awkward. They make the puzzle feel lopsided and strange. And for those of us who solve Downs-only, the added challenge was almost too much. I couldn't believe I actually got the NW corner without much trouble. The NE corner, however, yeeeeeeeesh. I had ___ BET and no idea what was supposed to go there. EVEN? SAFE? The clue was not much help (10D: Not quite a sure thing). Its negative phrasing ("not quite") did not have me looking for a word as rosy as "GOOD." And then APPEASE? That seems reasonable, yes, but, when you have no letters but the "A" near the end (----A--), and the clue is 11D: Mollify, let me tell you, PLACATE seems like a pretty good option.
[Legit love this song (content warning ... it gets a little saucy)]
The SE corner was a snap because I knew JIMMY CHOO and DOJA CAT—if the latter answer flummoxed you, don't say I didn't warn you. (and I quote: "Four letters, half vowels, oddly-placed "J" ... you can see how this name might, occasionally, come in handy when you're filling a grid, specifically when you're filling your way around a (fixed) "J." If DÉJÀ is reasonably prevalent (37 appearances in the Shortz Era), then you can see how DOJA might proliferate. If you "don't like rappers" in your crossword, oh well, too bad. Just learn DOJA Cat now and spare yourself a lot of pain later." (Mar. 17, 2025)). But the SE corner, well, that just about did me in. I got APACHES and then .... zilch. I was able to throw "GESUNDHEIT!" across that section, but it did nothing to help me with the 7s. Nothing did. I wanted a plural of some breed of dog (SAMOYEDS? HUSKIES?) rather than DOG TEAM (42D: Sled pullers in the Arctic). Just as I used the "A" to get PLACATE (wrong!) in the NE corner, I used "I" to get OUTFITS (wrong!) in the SE (43D: Wardrobe = ARMOIRE). And as for STARTLE ... just couldn't see it (44D: Surprise). Not with just the latter "T" in place. I don't even remember how I managed to finish. I think I just tried to imagine 5-letter words starting "MA-," thought of MAGMA, and then the "G" made me think "DOG" and bam, I was back in business. But anyway, the Downs-only solve was brutal.
As for the theme of the puzzle, it left me a little cold, mostly because "VAH BAH TAH CHOO" isn't a thing. I was already sounding out the endings to try to figure out the theme before I ever got to the bottom, and when I hit CHOO and realized I had to ignore the "V" "B" and "T" (respectively) in those final syllables, it just didn't feel right. You say the "CH-" in "CHOO" but not the "V" "B" or "T"? I see why, but I still felt let down that the actual sound gimmick in this puzzle was so banal. I'm gonna start sneezing "Vah ... bah ... tah ... CHOO!" Seems more fun. I've always said sneezing should be more fun, and now I'm going to do something about it.
Some other stuff:
16A: Only nonrigid weapon in clue (ROPE) — "nonrigid" is a really awful word, the longer you stare at it. Looks like the name of one of Odin's, uh ... horses? Did he have horses? Well, yes, but just Sleipnir, his 8-legged horse. Nonrigid may not belong to Odin, but she definitely hangs out with Sleipnir.
46A: Garfield's frenemy in the comics (ODIE) — I don't remember them ever being "friends." I would've called Odie Garfield's NEMESIS (though Odie is probably too kind-hearted and dim-witted to be anyone's actual NEMESIS).
26D: Cute name for a spouse's task list (HONEY-DO) — ugh, define "Cute." Hate this "name" and this whole concept. Reinforces a lot of stupid gender norms. Real '90s-sitcom stuff. Boo.
35D: Rock's Emerson, Lake & Palmer, for one (TRIO) — me: "Let's see, we've got Emerson, that's one, and Lake, two, and then Palmer, three ... I'm gonna say TRIO!" You used to see these guys in the grid from time to time as ELP ("... I need somebody, ELP! Not just anybody, ELP! You know I need someone, ELP!!!"). They were a big name in '70s prog rock.
THEME: "Double Vision" — three-word answers where first part of middle word is the same as the first word and last part of middle word is the same as the last word(s) [... yes, that is an accurate description, cool]
Theme answers:
WOODS WOODSCREW CREW (25A: Group that Tiger hires to install wall art?)
SPAM SPAMALOT ALOT (41A: Send fan mail en masse to a Monty Python production?)
MAD MADISON IS ON (60A: Angry early president can be seen now in TV footage?)
DEM DEMAGOG AGOG (85A: Hotheaded liberal politico who's eager to hear?)
PRO PROCURES CURES (104A: Pharmacist comes through for customers?)
RED REDACTION ACTION (122A: Editor's strike?)
POST POSTAGE AGE (3D: Email era?)
WHOO! WHOOPIE PIE! (56D: "Suh-weet! I love this sandwich cookie!"?)
Word of the Day: IAN Somerhalder (126A: Actor Somerhalder) —
Ian Joseph Somerhalder (/ˈsʌmərhɔːldər/SUM-ər-hawl-dər; born December 8, 1978) is an American former actor and current business owner. He is known for playing Boone Carlyle in ABC's science fiction adventure drama television series Lost (2004–2010) and Damon Salvatore in the CW supernatural teen drama series The Vampire Diaries (2009–2017). (wikipedia)
• • •
My brain feels like it's melting—is that really how you spell "DEMAGOG"—I could've sworn there was a "-ue" on the end of it. [Looks it up] Oh thank god. I'm correct. According to merriam-webster dot com, "DEMAGOGUE" is the spelling—under "variants" it says "less commonly DEMAGOG." I'd say "way less commonly." That answer was probably the hurtiest of the lot, not just because DEMAGOG was spelled bizarrely, but because nothing in the clue really indicated demagoguery at all. Being a "hot-headed politico" does not make you a DEMAGOG(UE). Needless to say, the theme kind of went off the rails for me there. The rest of it meandered from fine to bland to awkward. Some of the theme answers seemed pretty snappy (POST POSTAGE AGE, MAD MADISON IS ON, SPAMS SPAMALOT A LOT), but some were just too contrived to be funny (WOODS WOODSCREW CREW) or just kind of blah (PRO PROCURES CURES—"PRO" seems very weak as a stand in for "Pharmacist"). Had some trouble with "WHOO! WHOOPIE PIE!" mostly because "WHOO!" doesn't really track (for me) as a "Suh-weet!" stand-in. "Woo hoo!" is the expression I was looking for (the fact that I live under the deep and abiding influence of Homer Simpson may have something to do with that). I also haven't seen / thought of a WHOOPIE PIE in years. Decades? People still eat these? The only "sandwich cookie" I know is, well, you know.
The puzzle was pretty easy overall, though some of those themers were hard to parse (despite the fact that they should've been *easier* to parse than usual, given the repetitive nature of the theme). And some of the fill today proved a little elusive. The one that held me up the most was DANAE (118A: Mother of Perseus). I deal with classical mythology a lot in my classes, but somehow DANAE never comes up. Is she famous for anything else besides being Perseus's mother? Nope, not really. That answer was in the thick of the toughest section for me, connecting PETDOOR (hard to get from clue) (101D: Little flap, maybe) to URACIL (109D: RNA base). But when I say this section was "the toughest" for me today, it really wasn't that tough. None of it was. I had to work a little, that's all. I guess I had to work a little over in the E/SE as well, where ABODE had a really tricky clue (96A: Liver spot?) (i.e. the spot ... where one ... lives), and ADVENTURE seemed like it wanted to be ... something else (90D: Thrill-seeker's pursuit). I was considering ADRENALIN. And ugh, that section had that horrible manosphere "thought" "leader" guy in it, why, why, why would you do that? No one wants that. Sadly, there aren't any other suitably famous ROGANs you can go to for that clue. It's either use the podcast guy or tear it out and refill the grid some other way. I think you know what way I'd lean.
[102A: Smitten person's declaration]
Very easy-to-understand theme today. Took me exactly this long to pick it up:
I read the clue (3D: Email era?), took one look at the title (always a good idea on Sundays), and in went POST POSTAGE AGE. Having the core concept locked down made the rest of the themers much easier, even if, occasionally, they were weird enough to flummox me for a bit. Outside of the aforementioned DANAE and ABODE sections, the only part of the puzzle that felt somewhat hard to get ahold of was the aforementioned DEMAGOG, which had both BILOBA and STREGA running through it. I tried to spell BILOBA all kinds of ways: BILBAO? BILBOA? I feel like Ginkgo BILOBA used to be, like a trendy supplement for a while? In the '90s? Is it still? It's supposed to help with memory or something. (52D: Ginkgo ___ (tree species)). If only there was a supplement that could help me remember ... here, I'll use my favorite supplement: the internet [click click click]. Yes, "brain supplement." "The European Medicines AgencyCommittee on Herbal Medicinal Products concluded that medicines containing ginkgo leaf can be used for treating mild age-related dementia and mild peripheral vascular disease in adults after serious conditions have been excluded by a physician" (wikipedia). As for STREGA, I made it my Word of the Day, not too long ago, and that ... kinda helped (62D: "___ Nona" (children's book based on a folk tale)). I still wanted wrong words at first: STRADA, maybe? Still not loving STREGA as an answer, but at least this time it didn't take me completely by surprise.
[111D: Singer with the 2021 hit album "Solar Power"]
Observations and explanations:
55A: Dam near the Philae Temple of Isis (ASWAN) — this answer keeps catching my eye and every time I think "why is A SWAN" in this puzzle? How is that even being clued? ... oh, right, the dam."
70A: Go beyond the opponent's baseline, in tennis (OVERHIT) — only just debuted a few years ago (2019), though it appeared in a NYT acrostic a few years before that. "Baseline" is the example of the thing being exceeded each time, except for the one time it was [Send beyond the green, say]. I would've thought "OVERSHOOT" for golf, but golf's not really my thing, to say the least, so sure, golf too, why not? LOL when I google [overshoot the green] my first five hits are cryptic crossword clue explanation sites. But after those, yes, looks like "overshoot (the green)" is def a real golf concept. (PS: the cryptic clue in question: [Overshoot the green badly, though not with the driver (9)]. Can you solve it? Answer below*.
112A: Plant that was a top-five girl's name in the 1970s (HEATHER) — never thought about it, but yeah, went to school with a number of HEATHERs, and HEATHER Locklear and HEATHER Graham were famous actresses of roughly my age (a little older and a little younger, respectively), but then, sometimes in the '90s it looks like, the HEATHER (and Jennifer, and Amy) market collapsed, and the Brittany / Caitlin / Madison apocalypse began...
129A: What very punctual people arrive on (THE DOT) — very weird to have THE DOT not following a specific time. "I'll be there on THE DOT!" What dot!?!?
6D: Certain queer identity, for short (ARO) — as in "aromantic."
16D: Makeup of some metallic bonds (ARCWELDS) — don't remember this at all. Must've worked my way around it using crosses. If you arcweld, you weld using an arc created by electricity.
45D: Juvenile locust (NYMPH) — ah, locust taxonomy! Finally a subject I'm an expert in! (shouted someone, possibly ... but not me).
85D: Peach or plum, botanically (DRUPE) — basically, a stone fruit. I learned this word from crosswords ... and then crosswords promptly stopped showing it to me (it's been 17 years!!!!? and only the second appearance in the last 34 years ... this surprises me; really thought the word was more common)
[RAH, lol]
See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
P.S. Longtime constructor and all-around smart guy Natan Last has a book about crossword puzzles coming out later this year called Across the Universe: The Past, Present and Future of the Crossword Puzzle. If I had an advance copy (hint hint!) I'd be able to tell you all about it. But I'm quite sure it's going to be good. We're in a mini-boom period for crossword books. Last year we got Anna Schechtman's wonderful Riddles of the Sphinx: Inheriting the Feminist History of the Crossword Puzzle, and now there's Natan's book (due out the day before my birthday: Nov. 25, 2025)
Here's Natan with the prepublication hype:
My bookAcross the Universe: The Past, Present, and Future of The Crossword Puzzle,is now available for pre-order! If you can, would you pre-order it through Bookshop, Books-A-Million, Barnes and Noble, or your local bookstore?
Pre-orders help books get attention and remain a powerful way to support authors. I've been lucky to receive an early blurb from Stefan Fatsis, the bestselling author of Word Freak, who calls Across the Universe "a gridful of insight and pleasure ... a deft and deep exploration of the crossword puzzle’s obsessive grip on American life."
In the book, I go through the history of crosswords, starting with the very first puzzles in the yellow journalism-tinged era of the 1910s, plus a postwar crossword craze in which solving competitions, crossword musicals and movies, and black-and-white-checkered outfits were all the rage. I elaborate my own history with the puzzle too, from combing through archives in Will Shortz’s basement to being invited onto a Martha Stewart episode dedicated to puzzles (she said she solved more while she was in prison). All the while, I track how the puzzle’s identity is constantly shifting—becoming, in different eras, a frivolous diversion, a literary and artistic object (including for some of my own writerly heroes like Gertrude Stein, Vladimir Nabokov, and T.S. Eliot), the latest game for AI to conquer, and even a primary source of revenue for the modern newsroom.
You can read excerpts from the book in The New Yorkerand The New York Times; the Times piece is about the role of games in moments of crisis, and, unfortunately, is as relevant as ever. I'll be having some events once the book comes out, and I'll keep you posted on that. But for now, pre-order if you can!
Both Anna and Natan are in their 30s now, but have been constructing since they were teenagers, so there's a ton of experience there, as well as a still relatively youthful perspective on recent crossword history. I hope I get an advance copy of Natan's book at some point, so I can promote it in greater detail later in the year, but I'm gonna pre-order one today either way. If I end up with two copies, fine: it'll make a nice gift.
*[Overshoot the green badly, though not with the driver (9)] = PASSENGER
Cryptic part of the clue: "Overshoot" = PASS; "green badly" = anagram of "green" = ENGER
Definition part of the clue: "not with the driver" = in the car but not driving it = PASSENGER
A long time ago, I was solving this puzzle and got stuck at an unguessable (to me) crossing: N. C. WYETH crossing NATICK at the "N"—I knew WYETH but forgot his initials, and NATICK ... is a suburb of Boston that I had no hope of knowing. It was clued as someplace the Boston Marathon runs through (???). Anyway, NATICK— the more obscure name in that crossing—became shorthand for an unguessable cross, esp. where the cross involves two proper nouns, neither of which is exceedingly well known. NATICK took hold as crossword slang, and the term can now be both noun ("I had a NATICK in the SW corner...") or verb ("I got NATICKED by 50A / 34D!")