THEME: BENDS THE TR(UTH) (50A: Doesn't lie, exactly ... or a hint to this puzzle's circled letters) — theme answers are instances of lying, and contain letter strings (in circled squares) that "bend" (ninety degrees) to form words meaning "truth":
Theme answers:
COVER STORY (contains first part of "bent" VERITY)
TAX SCANDAL (contains first part of "bent" CANDOR)
FAKE NAME (contains first part of "bent" FACTS)
PHONE SCAMS (contains first part of "bent" HONESTY) (28D: Bad calls?)
BENDS THE TR[UTH] (contains "bent" TRUTH)
Word of the Day: HALE-BOPP Comet (38D: Comet discovered in 1995) —
Comet Hale–Bopp (formally designated C/1995 O1) is a long-period comet that was one of the most widely observed of the 20th century and one of the brightest seen for many decades.
Alan Hale and Thomas Bopp discovered Comet Hale–Bopp separately on July 23, 1995, before it became visible to the naked eye. It is difficult to predict the maximum brightness of new comets with any degree of certainty, but Hale–Bopp exceeded most predictions when it passed perihelion on April 1, 1997, reaching about magnitude −1.8. Its massive nucleus size made it visible to the naked eye for a record 18 months. This is twice as long as the Great Comet of 1811, the previous record holder. Accordingly, Hale–Bopp was dubbed the Great Comet of 1997. (wikipedia)
• • •
The further this puzzle gets in my rearview mirror, the more I like it. Actually, that implies that I want to leave it behind me and that I like it better when I can't see it clearly, and that's not right, so ... let's say the more I sit with the completed puzzle, the more I like it. The more I look it over, the more I like it. I cannot say I enjoyed it too much while solving, largely because the fill was routinely crusty and musty in a way that I started to grate after a while. FDIC, IDINA, partial AVIV ... the opening was not promising, and after that the fill never got above middling and frequently went somewhat lower than that: C-SPOTS, OLEO, plural TSKS, plural NOES (that pl. always looks like a typo for "nose"), ET ALIA, AAS, ARRET. And what's a good old-fashioned puzzle without a STYE? So I flew through this wondering why the fill was creaky, and never actually seeing the theme—I mean, I saw the "bent" words, but I didn't really get that the four theme answers had "lying" in common. I just know that TAX SCANDAL felt like a strange phrase to me. Do we have TAX SCANDALs any more? Do we have scandals? I'm not sure it's possible any more, with a gutted regulatory system and a largely lawless oligarchy. Also, with the very concept of "scandal" seeming quaint, as the human capacity for shame seems to be fading into nothingness. Anyway, if there is a famous TAX SCANDAL, I have forgotten it.
PHONE SCAMS also seemed slightly alien to me, as a phrase, though that one I fully acknowledge is a real thing. I just haven't answered the phone for a number I didn't recognize in eons. But I have (older) family members who were preyed upon by phone scammers, so I'm not sure why my brain blanked there. Oh, right, the "?" clue, that's why (28D: Bad calls?). The theme answers did not appear to cohere to me until I was finished and looking the puzzle over. It's thematically impressive that not only does the puzzle bend "truths," but it does so directly out of theme answers that involve truth-bending. The one incongruity is that some of the themers involve outright lying, so the clue on BENDS THE TRUTH (50A: Doesn't lie, exactly...) seems inapt. But still, structurally, the theme is impressive—and intricate, which likely accounts for some of the subpar fill.
Overall the puzzle was very easy. I had one small and one somewhat larger moment of "???" The first was with VICAR (35A: The Rev. Leonard Clement, in an Agatha Christie novel). Which Agatha Christie novel? I am familiar with the concept of quaint village murder mysteries involving VICARs, but if there's an iconic one, I forgot it. Is it ... Murder at the Vicarage? Is that a thing? Yes! 1930. The first of her novels featuring Miss Marple. I don't think of it as among Christie's more famous titles, but that's probably because they haven't made a movie out of it in my lifetime, or ever (though there have been British and French TV series). Considering how simple all the other answers were to get, the VICAR hit like a very rough road bump. I also, as I said, had some trouble around the PHONE part of PHONE SCAMS, which was exacerbated by the made-up, could-be-anything [Casual greeting] (today, "OH, HEY"), as well as the clue on SHOUT (27D: Big whoop) (I was looking for a word for a "big deal" ... or a "party"? But no, a literal whoop. Fooled me!). Otherwise, not much friction today, which is fine, for a Tuesday.
["Blue" locale in a 1977 Linda Ronstadt classic]
Bullets:
18A: ___ fresca (Latin American refreshment) (AGUA) — I had AGUE here at first because I was on autopilot, saw AGU-, and just wrote in the only answer that seemed to fit. This led me to a brief flirtation with OKEY DOKE at 9D: "All right! Enough already!"). Again, I didn't really read the clue there either. It pays not to be complacent, but good luck telling me that on a Tuesday at 4:15am.
43A: Notable features of the Charleston, S.C. skyline (STEEPLES) — having never been to Charleston, and knowing almost nothing about Charleston, I had no idea what this was all about, but between "skyline" and easy-to-get crosses, I could guess. Weirdly, there's nothing on the city's wikipedia page about STEEPLES, but it does have "spires."
Charleston is known as "the Holy City". Despite beliefs that the term dates to the city's earliest days and refers to its religiously tolerant culture, the expression was coined in the 20th century, likely as a mockery of Charlestonians' self-satisfied attitude about their city. Many sources, however, traditionally link the term to the many old church spires dotting the skyline of downtown Charleston. (wikipedia)
36A: Hide ___ hair (NOR) — only just now noticing how this clue echoes 53D: "Hyde and ___" (1955 Bugs Bunny short) ("HARE"). Nice.
63A: Peak in Greek myth (OSSA) — had the "A" and reflexively wrote in ETNA. But no, it's that even crosswordesier mythological mountain, OSSA (ETNA is in Sicily, whereas OSSA is in Greece, near the coast of the northern Aegean.
32D: Most dangerous animal in Maine, it's said (MOOSE) — this sounds like a joke but it is not a joke. I was listening to a podcast about the National Parks and at some point the host asked the guides she was with (who were Native American, I believe) what animals were most dangerous and they did not hesitate. MOOSE. Like bears, they are generally human-averse, but you are much more likely to encounter a MOOSE (if you are in MOOSE country) and their sheer size, and their fierce protectiveness of calves, means that more people are injured by MOOSE than by bears every year (at least in Alaska).
38D: Comet discovered in 1995 (HALE-BOPP) — did they have to name yet another comet "HAL-" something? I remembered this comet's name, but was not entirely sure how to spell the HALE part (HAIL?). Of all the names of celestial bodies that I know, this one is the most fun to say.
That's all for today. See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
[Follow Rex Parker on BlueSky and Facebook and Letterboxd] ============================= ❤️ Support this blog ❤️:
THEME: TRIPLE JUMP (62A: Track-and-field event with a sandpit ... or a hint to the ends of 17-, 23- and 51-Across) — each of the three theme answers ends with a synonym for "jump":
Theme answers:
ARAB SPRING (17A: Wave of antigovernment protests in the early 2010s)
HOMEWARD BOUND (23A: Heading back to where one lives)
DOOMSDAY VAULT (51A: Repository of seeds from all corners of the globe, informally)
Word of the Day: DOOMSDAY VAULT (51A) —
The Svalbard Global Seed Vault (Norwegian: Svalbard globale frøhvelv) is a secure backup facility for the Earth's crop diversity on the Norwegian island of Spitsbergen in the remote ArcticSvalbard archipelago. The Seed Vault provides long-term storage for duplicates of seeds from around the world, conserved in gene banks. This provides security of the world's food supply against the loss of seeds in gene banks due to mismanagement, accident, equipment failures, funding cuts, war, sabotage, disease, and natural disasters. The Seed Vault is managed under terms spelled out in a tripartite agreement among the Norwegian government, the Crop Trust, and the Nordic Genetic Resource Center (NordGen).
The Norwegian government entirely funded the Seed Vault's approximately 45 million kr (US$8.8 million in 2008) construction cost. Norway and the Crop Trust pay for operational costs. Storing seeds in the vault is free to depositors.
As of June 2025, the Seed Vault conserves 1,355,591 accessions, representing more than 13,000 years of agricultural history.
• • •
Adequate, but kind of uninspired. Last words = synonyms for "jump." That's it. The revealer tries to make it more exciting than that. But all the "triple" means is that you have (only) three themers. The concept lacks a certain cleverness and zing that the best Monday puzzles have. It does have one wholly original and, to me, mysterious answer: DOOMSDAY VAULT. It might be "mysterious" to me because ... it's not actually called that except in sensationalist news headlines (see "Word of the Day," above). As I was working that answer out from the Downs alone, I got the DOOMSDAY part but still had no idea what the phrase could be. I don't know that many "DOOMSDAY" phrases. There's the Doomsday Clock. There's a Doomsday scenario, I've heard of that. There's also the Doomsday Book, but that seemed pretty obscure. It's actually, technically, the "Domesday Book," and I'd be surprised if very many non-medievalists knew what it was. It's an important late 11c. English MS containing a survey of England and Wales: "The survey's main purpose was to record the annual value of every piece of landed property to its lord, and the resources in land, labour force, and livestock from which the value derived" (wikipedia). Anyway, of all these options, only CLOCK fit, and the crosses made that impossible, so I just had to wait for the letters in VAULT to appear. I think that was the first actual "jump" that I got. That "V" was hard since TVAPPS was a nightmare to parse (the only thing I could think of was "streamers" / "streaming services," and I couldn't think of a shortened form for that). I think I have actually heard of the DOOMSDAY VAULT before. I remember learning about the phenomenon, though clearly the name didn't stick. Anyway, it's a fun answer, the one genuinely original thing about the puzzle. The rest, as I say, is fine. Standard fare. Not exciting, not terrible.
[28D: Group whose "Gold: Greatest Hits" is the second-best-selling album]
Three wrong answers and a handful of ???s kept this one interesting, from a Downs-only perspective. Wrote in FOOL for 1D: Hoodwink (SCAM), which was a foolish mistake. Should've just waited for crosses. That one kept ARAB SPRING from coming into view very quickly. Also, just couldn't figure out SHREWD. No good reason, just ... wasn't coming to me (6D: Brilliant at negotiating). Worst, though, in the end was NYG (9D: MetLife Stadium team, on scoreboards). Also these corporate-named arenas, I cannot keep track of them. Had no idea what kind of sport I was even dealing with. Blank-blank-G gave me fits. Seemed to want to start with "N," but only PHONE or PHONO seemed to work at PHON-, which gave me NEG or NOG, respectively, and neither of those is a team (that I know of!). Finally realized PHONY was also on the table, and bam, there it was: NYG. New York Giants. Very weird to be held up by something so minor, but that's the great thing about solving Downs-only: the potential chaos created by the most ordinary of answers. I also had trouble parsing "I'M MAD" (I had ANGER in there at first) (13D: What the "face with steam from nose" emoji suggests), and THAN—that one was really rough (37D: Greater ___). I had GOOD in there for a bit. And yet I dropped A FIRST in without a second thought (32D: Unprecedented). That two-word-ness of that answer is the kind of thing that would normally trip me up, but somehow I saw right through it today.
Bullets:
31A: Harsh, as a takedown (BRUTAL) — not sure how "as a takedown" adds anything here. I don't associate BRUTAL with "a takedown" any more than I do "harsh." BRUTAL is just a word for "Harsh." The clue could've just been "Harsh," or "Very harsh," I suppose.
16A: Scholarly "same" (IDEM) — oof. Brutal. The kind of crusty crosswordese that a Monday puzzle should avoid at all costs. ("Avoid at all costs" is a cliché, another thing you should avoid) (not as bad as "avoid like the plague," though)
35D: Explosive personality trait (SHORT FUSE) — nice. Probably the nicest non-theme answer. This was a bit of a challenge to get Downs-only. Somehow, "Explosive" wasn't giving me "anger," necessarily. I thought maybe the person in question was just ... a firecracker, you know. Like, maybe they had a big, dynamic personality.
52D: One dental speciality, informally (ORTHO) — this is a small technical matter, but ... I don't really get what "One" is doing in this clue. [Dental specialty, informally] works perfectly. Of course it's one. All answers are "one" unless you say otherwise. Baffling, unnecessary use of "One" here. Not that anyone's going to care, or even notice. I'm just curious what the logic is for including it.
That's all. See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
[Follow Rex Parker on BlueSky and Facebook and Letterboxd] ============================= ❤️ Support this blog ❤️:
[122D: "Star Wars" character whose species is never named]
THEME: "Big Draw" — apparently it's WORLD GIRAFFE DAY (???), and you get to celebrate the "big" animal by "drawing" it (76A: Annual June 21 celebration of the animal depicted in this puzzle by connecting the circled letters from A to T and back to A); additionally, there are seven more giraffe-related answers in the grid:
Theme answers:
NECKING (21A: Fighting technique used by [circled letters] (as explained at 76-Across))
"THAT'S A TALL ORDER" (67A: "Boy, you're asking too much" ... or what you might say after following the instructions at 76-Across?)
SAVANNA (124A: Habitat for [circled letters])
OKAPI (20D: Closing living relative of the [circled letters])
TOWERS (39D: Term for groups of [circled letters])
ACACIA (81D: Tree whose leaves are eaten by [circled letters])
My actual feelings about this puzzle are more in two-star territory, but I want to give the puzzle credit for originality (i.e. weirdness), and for a few of the longer non-theme answers, which were strong and occasionally delightful (BEAR WITNESS, STORE CREDIT, "LEVEL WITH ME," COFFEE RUN). But the theme, yeah, no, what? What is even happening? Did people know this was a "Day"? Are you all "celebrating" this today? Is anyone? God love and preserve the giraffes of the world, but this is such (Such!) a weird puzzle to run on a day that is Notably A Holiday! A non-giraffe holiday. Unless your father is a giraffe, in which case ... wow, I have questions. Anyway, it's Father's Day. I don't need a Father's Day-themed puzzle, but to celebrate a different, and (I think it's safe to say) less popular "holiday" on Father's Day is bizarre. Not all bizarre things are bad, but this ... is child's placemat stuff. Connect the dots, draw a long-necked horsey. Mkay. Done and done, I guess, but why? It's not like there were any surprises here. There's one pun, which gives the theme a very (very) mild playfulness, but otherwise it's just giraffe trivia (mostly short answers you might see on any day), and then ... you draw. I knew I was dealing with a giraffe-related puzzle very early—as soon as I got OKAPI, in fact. At that point, I thought the "circled letters" were going to spell "GIRAFFE" somehow, so I got very confused as A B C D etc. started to show up. Eventually I realized that I was going to be asked to connect the circled squares in alphabetical order, which then made it pretty easy to find and fill in the circled squares. Here's what happened immediately after I grasped the connect-the-dots angle:
After this point, the puzzle was basically a tall and somewhat dull themeless. There are few things I like less than being asked to draw a picture on my puzzle when I'm done. Maybe the app did some cool giraffe-related animation, I dunno. Mine just sat there. Not that a graphic would've improved the solving experience. The puzzle isn't bad, it's just ... it's only interesting as a novelty. It has novelty dimensions. Wacky tallness. Beyond that, there's really not much to it. Oh, and one last thing about the theme, specifically the revealer clue: if you ask me to "connect the circled letters from A to T and back to A" (my emphasis), then I am going to assume that you want me to actually go back, i.e. retrace my steps, T to A (the long way). Just a little thought told me that my interpretation made no sense from a drawing perspective, but I still maintain that that instruction is clumsily worded.
Overall, it's a pretty easy puzzle. I had real trouble with TSENG / NOUN, and only wrote that "N" in at the very end. I still can't really accept that [Whatchamacallit] is NOUN. How? In the sense that any ... thing (whether you can remember its name or not) is a NOUN, I guess the clue is, at some basic level, accurate, but you'd never (ever) swap either of those words for the other. Absolutely insane cluing choice. My not knowing a golfer: not a surprise. My not knowing NOUN: strange. I had EYE-to-EYE before TOE-to-TOE (47A: Word on either side of "to"). Struggled with GANESHA because I really (really) thought the god was called simply GANESH ... which it is, though apparently GANESHA is the preferred / more common spelling (89A: Hindu god with an elephant head). It's the primary spelling at the wikipedia entry, at any rate. My trouble there was compounded by my uncertainty about neighboring ACES OUT (the "OUT" part, specifically) and by the tough clue on RANSOM, which crosses both of the aforementioned answers (78D: Price for a return, perhaps). I had ANNOY before ANGER (99D: Tick off). I've never heard of a CORN PIT and can barely imagine it. CORN MAZE? Sure. CORN PIT??? Weirdly, not an element of any farm I've ever seen. I assume they're real, or why would this answer be here, but ... yeah, I needed lots of crosses there. "BEATS ME!" I might've said (but didn't).
Bullets:
23A: Verify, as an editor (FACTCHECK) — I think of an editor and a factchecker as being separate jobs. I knew a factchecker for National Geographic, and she was not an editor. But I guess some editors do FACTCHECK, so, fine.
132A: Debuted to stockholders, in Wall St. lingo (WENT IPO) — awful. Just a horrible, ugly bit of "lingo." A total wordlist answer (i.e. one you use only because your software recommended it). No one wants this.
106D: Small superhero whose catchphrase starts "Up and at 'em" (ATOM ANT) — had the first "A" and tried to make ANT MAN work, to no avail.
52D: R&B group Bell Biv ___ (DEVOE) — they were popular for precisely the years that I was in college. I don't remember hearing about them again after 1991. But they were pretty damn big in that '90-'91 window. I see now that they released other albums besides their massive 1990 debut (Poison). Bell Biv DEVOE (also known as "BBD," yes, really) was made up of three former members of the '80s boy band New Edition, whose other members included Ralph Tresvant, Johnny Gill, and (most famously) Bobby Brown. Bell Biv DEVOE are: Ricky Bell, Michael Bivins, and Ronnie DeVoe. So, if you didn't know about Bell Biv DEVOE, well ... now you know.
53A: Long, hooded cloak that's also an author's name (CAPOTE) — ooh, I forgot this name had a sartorial angle. I think I knew that. But I also think I would've said it was something a bullfighter wore. No idea how my brain ever made that association.
119A: Clergyman known for his verbal gaffes (SPOONER) — if you don't know the Reverend, then you have probably never solved a cryptic crossword in your life. Man, those setters (don't call them "constructors") love their spoonerisms. A "spoonerism"is when you transpose the first sounds of two-word phrases, so ... uh ... a "cakewalk" would be a "wake cock" ... that's not really a good example, but it's the first thing that came to mind, sorry / you're welcome.
110A: Common holder of pens (MUG) — yes. In fact there's a MUG holding pens (and pencils) on my desk right now. But I got a bit screwed up by the alphabetical sequencing of the circled letters and thought that there should be a "J" where the "M" should be, which resulted in a JAR holding the pens. And then, however improbably, a JUG.
That's all for today. Happy Father's Day to all who celebrate. If that's not you, well then, Happy WORLD GIRAFFE TODAY. Today's got something for everyone!
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
[Follow Rex Parker on BlueSky and Facebook and Letterboxd] ============================= ❤️ Support this blog ❤️:
This started out very hard, but that's often the way Saturdays start—with me just picking around for a while trying to find a seam I can grab hold of so that I can tear the lid off. For some reason I'm thinking of the jars of peanut butter we get, which come with a foil top under the regular jar lid and you have to pull it off but it's always an ordeal and then when you do find the little (very little) bit that you're supposed to pull on, you pull it and instead of taking the whole top off it just rips off in your hand and so you have to actually get a knife and run it along the edge of the jar to get the damn thing off. It's like that. I think various toiletries come with similar annoying foil covers—lotions and toothpastes and what not. Anyway, you hunt for the little bit that will give you some leverage and then you pull and hope for the best. Today, I hunted all over the NW and got nothing. Well, I kinda thought CAPRI might be right (1D: Destination for a day trip from Sorrento), but otherwise, nothing. First thing in the grid that I was certain about was SPOT (20A: Be prepared to take a weight off someone's shoulders?), which probably should've given me ONION (7D: Bulb that becomes translucent when heated), but it didn't, so I decamped for the NE, which was much friendlier. Despite knowing neither STAR (??) (10D: Big name in lights) or BRENDA, I got into the NE via TIMER, WIDEST (I knew it was an -EST, at least), and STAT (26A: Turnovers, but not crumpets). And then the big breakthrough, GREAT LAKE (14D: One of a noted quintet)—which is where I will be in exactly five days: Lake Huron, the last lake on our annual summer GREAT LAKE vacation adventure (Michigan 2022, Superior 2023, Erie 2024, Ontario 2025, Huron 2026). Not sure if we're gonna embark on some new collection of places to visit, or if we're just gonna accept that Superior is superior and go there every summer. Either way, we get to see my best friends every summer, which is the point. Actually, the point point is our moving to Minnesota to live in the same city (if not the same neighborhood) as my best friends, but that's another story ... where was I? GREAT LAKE! It helped me get started. Helped me greatly. Pretty soon I was here:
[WHOO? Oh, right, I had SHOO and hadn't yet fixed the whole thing (39D: "Get outta here!" = "WHOA!"—a statement of disbelief, not a command to leave)]
Once the middle was sorted, I had access to all the remaining corners, and while the NW remained the toughest (I had to come in through the back ends of answers, which is always harder than coming in through the front), the whole puzzle got a lot easier. SW went down in Tuesday fashion, and SE wasn't much tougher, although HONG (?) forced me to work a little (56A: Helen with the podcast "Go Fact Yourself"), as did the tough (and clever) clue on TOAST (49D: Moment of high spirits?) ("high" as in "lifted," as in "Raise a glass...!"). I also took a while to commit to SEA DRAGON down there because it sounds fictional (60A: Creature whose appendages allow it to camouflage in masses of kelp). But no, it's real alright.
As for that pesky NW, even after I got going in there, I still had trouble with ___ CANNON (I wanted TEE, since I've only ever heard them called "T-shirt cannons") and ___ POINT (17A: That's not the whole story!) (I thought maybe "story" was being used punnily to refer to a level of a building ... which actually did happen elsewhere in the puzzle: 23D: Stories of college students? (DORM). I like that Katie wrote NOT MY FINEST WORK right across the middle of this puzzle—funny bit of self-deprecation. It's probably not her finest work, but it's very good. Colorful and varied answers, no real moments of wincing, and enough bite to make things interesting.
Mistakes? Besides the ones I've already covered, not many. SHOO before WHOA (39D: "Get outta here!"). AIR before ACT (4D: What one might put on to impress others). HELM before DESK (55D: Anchor position). I thought maybe Helen HUNT had a podcast I hadn't heard about (56A: Helen with the podcast "Go Fact Yourself" = HONG). We have to know podcasters now? But there are Sooooooo Many, ugh. If I needed a HONG (that wasn't just [___ Kong]), I think I'd've gone with HONG Chau, whose presence in a movie is one of the most reliable indicators that I will see said movie. I would not have thought that was true until just now, but when I looked at her filmography, I realized I'd seen five of her last eight movies (The Menu, Showing Up, Asteroid City, Wuthering Heights, The Sheep Detectives). She got an Academy Award nomination for The Whale, which I never saw. She's never been in the puzzle, neither as HONG nor as CHAU. She should be a name double threat! Like ISAO AOKI, but for the 21st century.
["We gel!"]
Bullets:
34A: Soprano Fleming (RENÉE) — a very helpful gimme. She gave me the "R" for the other name in the middle of the grid, which had a much more elaborate (and funnier) clue (34D: Man's name whose first four letters spell a word describing its last letter = RINGO). I don't normally like these non-specific clues that ask you to drop or add or move letters around to figure them out, but this one was different. Sufficiently clever, such that I wasn't annoyed. My first thought for a man's name in five letters starting with "R" was ROGER, but then I was like "'how does 'ROGE' describe 'R'?" (Later, ROGER actually showed up (51D: "Got it")). Cryptic crosswords have primed me to think "O" when I see "ring," so this clue felt very comfy.
62A: N.B.A. analyst Burke (DORIS) — I don't follow pro sports too closely any more but I still know who DORIS Burke is. Big name in basketball commentary. She's got a lot of "First woman to ..." credits and is just a well respected analyst generally.
43A: ___ Ewbank, Hall-of-Fame football coach (WEEB) — the puzzle does get a little name-y (seven people, plus ROGER and RINGO), and this is probably the crosswordesiest of them all. I wrote in WEEB thinking "it's WEEB, right? Really, WEEB? But yeah ... I think so." It's a name I know solely from doing crosswords lo these many years. He coached the Jets to their one and only Super Bowl ... the year I was born. Reading about him just now led me to discover that there was a game he coached in that's famous enough to have a name: The Heidi Game. How in the world does a professional football game end up named after a 19th-century children's novel about a five-year-old girl? Well ... funny story:
The Heidi Game was a 1968 American Football League (AFL) game between the Oakland Raiders and the visiting New York Jets. The contest, held on November 17, 1968, was notable for its exciting finish, in which Oakland scored two touchdowns in the final minute to win the game 43–32. However, NBC, the game's television broadcaster, decided to break away from its coverage on the East Coast to broadcast the television filmHeidi, which caused many viewers to miss the Raiders' comeback. (wikipedia)
6D: Website with a "Submit a Rumor" tab (SNOPES) — TMZ wouldn't fit, and so I was out of ideas until I got a few crosses.
31D: Fair weather followers (SNOWBIRDS) — we get a lot of these in the NE—retirees (mostly) who leave for warmer climes during the colder months but come back to the NE for the summers and the notably gorgeous falls. And here I am planning to retire to Minnesota. Is there a cute avian name for those of us who want to spend our later years in the freezing cold of Minnesota? LOONS?
That's all for today. See you next time. Happy last day of spring!
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
P.S. Wait, CREAM SODA is "Dad's pop"!? Man, I have really entered old man territory, I guess. I love the stuff. You're missing out, kids.
P.P.S. I’m being told that “Dad’s” refers to the brand of soda, and not the fact that only old men drink it. Ok. CREAM SODA *does* seem old-fashioned, as soda types go. Also, I was not aware that Dad’s made any soda besides root beer.
[Got this one at a bagel shop in NYC at the end of a hot day. Delicious]
[Follow Rex Parker on BlueSky and Facebook and Letterboxd] ============================= ❤️ Support this blog ❤️:
Word of the Day: PERIPETEIA (10D: Sudden reversal of fortune, in literature) —
Peripeteia (/ˌpɛrəpɪˈteɪ.ə/, peripety, alternative Latin form: Peripetīa, ultimately from Greek: περιπέτεια) is a reversal of circumstances, or turning point, within a work of literature. // Aristotle, in his Poetics, defines peripeteia as "a change by which the action veers round to its opposite, subject always to our rule of probability or necessity." According to Aristotle, peripeteia, along with discovery, is the most effective when it comes to drama, particularly in a tragedy. He wrote that "The finest form of Discovery is one attended by Peripeteia, like that which goes with the Discovery in Oedipus...". (wikipedia)
• • •
Yeesh, what day is it? I thought it was Friday [checks date on computer screen] Ah, I see it is Friday. Huh. Well, this one was harder than most recent Saturdays for me, so I don't know what the heck was going on. Maybe just a wavelength thing. And yet ... I don't know. So many things in this puzzle seem legitimately tough, or toughly clued. We can start with PERIPETEIA, a word that I, a teacher of "literature," have never used in my decades-long career. A word I never hear. A word that really, really, really could've used "Aristotle" somewhere in its clue (the term comes explicitly from Aristotle's Poetics and relates specifically to Aristotle's ideas about tragedy). If you'd just said "per Aristotle," then at least I might've known we were looking for a Greek word. But I was looking for a much more ordinary word, certainly one I might have come across many times in my life, whether it relates to my own teaching or not. But no. This feels like a wordlist word. Something your software suggests, and that works and so you go with it. Unless I have gone completely through the looking glass, it's not an everyday word, or even an every other day word for most people. PERIPETEIA created all kinds of problems, because it made it harder to see that damned mushroom, whose name I've heard of but totally forgot, and harder to get THE, which I had as "AHA!" (?) (32A: Off-grid connection?). I knew the French director was RENÉ Clair, but -HE seemed impossible for the clue. It wasn't til very late in the game, when THE seemed undeniable, that I understood its clue. "Off THE grid." THE is the "connection" between "off" and "grid." Sigh. Good one. You got me. You got me, PERIPETEIA, you got me, WOOD EAR, you got me THE. THE! Upended by a definite article. Not my finest hour.
But that wasn't my only trouble spot. I dropped THAW and "I'M UP" and IRE in right away in the NW and still couldn't see TRITIP (I kept wanting some kind of STRIP) (1A: Cut of beef used in Santa Maria-style barbecue), and W-P- looked impossible (despite WEPT being very very possible), and as for parsing HOME-RUN TROT, forget it, not with that clue (13A: Field trip?). Eventually had the TROT part and still was like "how many TROTs are there? There's TURKEY TROT, and ... ???" The worst thing up there, though, in terms of difficulty, was ROME. I was done with the puzzle and still had no idea how ROME was a [Twin city?]. I actually googled [Rome twin] and the results gave me my one real "D'oh!" moment of the day: ROME was (legendarily) founded by twins, specifically Romulus and Remus. At least I assume that's what that clue is after. If it's not, well then I'm still in the dark.
The difficulty continued down below, with SHOWER BEER, a thing I've never heard of and could not parse, even after I had SHOWER B- (47A: Cold one enjoyed during a hot wash). Then there was the laughable clue on BROCK (45A: Companion of Ash and Misty in Pokémon anime). This could've been any five letters of the alphabet. The idea that my knowledge of the Pokéverse has to go this deep is absurd. Human beings have the name BROCK. Lou BROCK was a Hall-of-Fame baseball player, for instance (6x All Star, 8x stolen bases leader, 3,000+ career hits). But no, we get some random Pokémon character. OK. That SE corner also had the very toughly clued BANK SHOT (35D: What might go off the rails?) (the "rails" are the edges of a pool table). Then there was the end. The very end. The last square. O'REE, LOL, no hope. I know that that name has been in the puzzle before, and I've said "no hope" before, but what can I say, here we are again.* I was staring down ORE- and had already left that last vowel in Sun YAT-S-N blank because I wasn't 100% sure (60A: Chinese revolutionary Sun ___). And so after all that struggle, I found myself hurtling toward Natick—a gaping vowel hole at the intersection of two proper nouns of limited fame. Now before you squawk about Sun YAT-SEN being legitimately famous, I know, I agree, I kinda sorta remember his name from some bygone World History class. He's a major historical figure. But that second vowel, yeesh. Dicey. I said his name in my head and it really felt like "SEN," and O'REE rang a faint bell, so I went with it (51D: Willie ___, first Black player in the N.H.L.). And was rewarded with the "Congratulations" message. A hard-earned victory. A Saturday victory. Or else I'm just off my game and everything in this puzzle is normal Friday fare, which is absolutely possible. Sometimes you just hit a wavelength snag and down you go ...
I enjoyed the challenge more than anything today, despite the fact that it was completely unexpected and maybe excessive for a Friday. HOME RUN TROT over AMUSE-BOUCHE is a nice combo, and FISH 'N' CHIPS crossing PUB FARE worked nicely as well. I like baseball, I like eating, this is good. This almost makes up for the Pokémon. I was lucky that the names today were familiar (well, besides O'REE and BROCK, that is). Not just THOMAS PAINE, but the pop culture names as well: JOHN WOO is famous for his '90s Hong Kong "gun ballet" movies (Gun fu—put that in your puzzle and smoke it!) (8D: Director of "Face/Off" and "Mission: Impossible II"). THE EDGE is the lead guitarist for U2 (37D: Guitarist who played the first-ever rock concert at the Sistine Chapel). Condolences to everyone wondering who this Mr. THEEDGE was (The THEEDGE! Sounds Seussian!). THE EDGE is featured in the recent ENO documentary, which I watched just two days ago. That is, he was in the version I saw—"The film uses a computer program to select footage and edit the film so that a different version is shown each time it is screened" (wikipedia). ENO co-produced U2's The Unforgettable Fire, and there's footage of all of them writing / recording "Pride (In The Name of Love)," which is pretty remarkable. I guess the big news here for crossword lovers is ... there's an ENO documentary. One iteration is currently playing on The Criterion Channel. Here's your chance to learn all about that guy who's been dancing around your crossword puzzles all these years. He's a fascinating figure.
Bullets:
54A: "That sounds brave ... but very stupid!" ("DON'T BE A HERO") — really resent the "but very stupid!" part of this clue. It's one thing for a venture to be too risky, and quite another for it to be downright "stupid." Was this clue written after a SHOWER BEER? It sounds like it.
57A: One concerned with transparency in the workplace? (GLASS BLOWER) — this wasn't hard, but it felt ... only minimally accurate. So much blown glass is not, in fact, transparent.
36A: Skater who lit the Olympic cauldron in 1998 (ITO) — Midori ITO, Japanese figure skater who lit the Olympic cauldron at the 1998 winter games in Nagano, Japan. I saw "skater," had the terminal "O," and wrote in ... ONO. I corrected this mistake quickly, but it was still a stupid mistake. First of all, his name is Apolo OHNO (like the exclamation!). Second, OHNO did not win his first Olympic medals until 2002.
33A: Former attorney general Bill (BARR) — between this guy and the idea of a military parade going through an ARCH (such as the one the current president is hoping to build, in honor of himself, I presume), I think this puzzle could've made better cluing choices. Less repulsive cluing choices.
That's all for today. See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
*I was wrong: I've never seen O'REE in the NYTXW before. Today is the first time O'REE has appeared in sixty years! Weird. I know I've seen his name in at least one puzzle before ... just not the NYTXW, I guess.
[Follow Rex Parker on BlueSky and Facebook and Letterboxd] ============================= ❤️ Support this blog ❤️:
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!")