Rex Parker Does the NYT Crossword Puzzle: Dan Kammann

Constructor: Dan Kammann and Zhouqin Burnikel

Relative difficulty: Medium-Challenging (solved Downs-only)

THEME: DIGIT (40A: Finger or toe ... or, when read as two words, what you can do to the ends of 17- and 62-Across and 10- and 34-Down) — last words of themers are things you can "dig":

Theme answers:

JACKSON HOLE (17A: Wyoming skiing mecca)
WORK OUT WELL (62A: End successfully)
LAST-DITCH (10D: Eleventh-hour)
CHERRY PIT (34D: Center of a stone fruit)

Word of the Day: Robert Benchley (13A: "___ is where a guy gets stabbed in the back, and instead of dying, he sings": Robert Benchley => OPERA) —

Robert Charles Benchley (September 15, 1889 – November 21, 1945) was an American humorist, newspaper columnist and actor. From his beginnings at The Harvard Lampoon while attending Harvard University, through his many years writing essays and articles for Vanity Fair and The New Yorker and his acclaimed short films, Benchley's style of humor brought him respect and success during his life, from his peers at the Algonquin Round Table in New York City to contemporaries in the burgeoning film industry.
Benchley is remembered best for his contributions to the magazine The New Yorker; his essays for that publication, whether topical or absurdist, influenced many modern humorists. He also made a name for himself in Hollywood, when his short movie How to Sleep was a popular success and won Best Short Subject at the 1935 Academy Awards. He also made many memorable appearances acting in movies such as Alfred Hitchcock's Foreign Correspondent (1940) and Nice Girl? (1941). Also, Benchley appeared as himself in Walt Disney's behind the scenes movie, The Reluctant Dragon (1941). His legacy includes written work and numerous short movie appearances. (wikipedia)

• • •

***ATTENTION: READERS AND FELLOW SOLVERS IN SYNDICATION*** (if you're reading this in January, that's you!) : It's early January, which means it's time once again for my annual week-long pitch for financial contributions to the blog. Every year I ask readers to consider what the blog is worth to them on an annual basis and give accordingly. 2026 is a big year for me, as Rex Parker Solves the NYT Crossword will celebrate its 20th birthday in September. Two decades. The big 2-0. A score of years. One score and no years ago, I brought forth on this Internet a new blog, conceived in ... I think I'll stop there, but you get the idea. I've been at this a long time, and while it has been my privilege and joy, it has also been (and continues to be) a lot of work. Very early mornings, no days off—well, no days off for the blog. I do have two very able regular subs (Mali and Clare) who write for me once a month, as well as a handful of other folks who stand in for me when I go on vacation. But otherwise, it's just me, every dang day, up by 4am, solving and writing. I've never been this disciplined about anything in my life. Ask anyone. "Is he disciplined about anything else?" "No, he is not. Just this one thing. It's weird." And it's because I have a responsibility to an audience (that's you). Even after nearly 20 years, I'm still genuinely stunned and exceedingly grateful that so many of you have made the blog a part of your daily routine. Ideally, it adds a little value to the solving experience. Teaches you something you didn't know, or helps you look at crosswords in a new way, or makes you laugh (my highest goal, frankly). Or maybe the blog simply offers a feeling of commiseration—a familiar voice confirming that yes, that clue was terrible, or yes, that themer set should have been tighter, or wow, yes, that answer was indeed beautiful. Whether you find it informative or comforting or entertaining or infuriating—or all of the above—if you're reading me on a fairly regular basis, there's something valuable you're getting out of the blog. And I couldn't be happier about that.

["That's upside-down, sweetheart"]

Hopefully by now you can tell that for better or worse, what you get from me is my honest, unvarnished feelings about a puzzle. There's an explanatory element too, sure, but this blog is basically one person's solving diary. Idiosyncratic. Personal. Human. I'm not interested in trying to guess consensus opinion. I'll leave that to A.I. All I can do, all I want to do, is tell you exactly what it was like for me to solve the puzzle—what I thought, what I felt. Because while solving may seem like mere box-filling to outsiders, crossword enthusiasts know that the puzzle actually makes us feel things—joy, anguish, confusion (confusion's a feeling, right?). Our feelings might not always be rational, but dammit, they're ours, and they're worth having. And sharing. I love that crosswords engage the messy, human side of you, as well as the objective, solution-oriented side. If I just wanted to fill in boxes, without any of the messy human stuff, I'd solve sudoku (no shade, sudoku fans, they're just not for me!).

[conferring w/ my editor]

Over the years, I have received all kinds of advice about "monetizing" the blog, invitations to turn it into a subscription-type deal à la Substack or Patreon. And maybe I'd make more money that way, I don't know, but that sort of thing has never felt right for me. And honestly, does anyone really need yet another subscription to manage? As I've said in years past, I like being out here on this super old-school blogging platform, just giving it away for free and relying on conscientious addicts like yourselves to pay me what you think the blog's worth. It's just nicer that way. How much should you give? Whatever you think the blog is worth to you on a yearly basis. Whatever that amount is is fantastic. Some people refuse to pay for what they can get for free. Others just don't have money to spare. All are welcome to read the blog—the site will always be open and free. But if you are able to express your appreciation monetarily, here are three options. First, a Paypal button (which you can also find in the blog sidebar on the homepage, as well as at the bottom of every write-up):

Second, a mailing address (checks can be made out to "Michael Sharp" or "Rex Parker") (be sure to date them with the new year, 2026!):

Rex Parker c/o Michael Sharp
54 Matthews St
Binghamton, NY 13905

The third, increasingly popular option is Venmo; if that's your preferred way of moving money around, my handle is @MichaelDavidSharp (the last four digits of my phone are 4878, in case Venmo asks you, which I guess it does sometimes, when it's not trying to push crypto on you, what the hell?!)

All Paypal contributions will be gratefully acknowledged by email. All Venmo contributions will get a little heart emoji, at a minimum :) All snail mail contributions will be gratefully acknowledged with hand-written postcards. I know snail mail is a hassle for most people, but I love it. I love seeing your (mostly) gorgeous handwriting and then sending you my (completely) awful handwriting. The human touch—it's nice. In recent years, my daughter has designed my annual postcards, but this year, grad school and NYC theater work are keeping her otherwise occupied, so I had to seek design help elsewhere. Enter Katie Kosma, who is not only a professional illustrator/designer, but (crucially!) a crossword enthusiast. She listened patiently to my long and disorganized list of ideas and in very short order was able to arrive at this year's design, inspired by film noir title cards.

I'm very happy with how it turned out. The teeny boxes inside the letters, the copyright credit ("Natick Pictures, Inc."), and especially that pencil lamppost—mwah! I know most people solve online now, and many paper solvers prefer pen, but the pencil just feels iconic, and appropriate for the card's throwback vibe. That lamppost was entirely Katie's creation. She was a dream to work with. Can't say enough good things about her.

Please note: I don't keep a "mailing list" and don't share my contributor info with anyone. And if you give by snail mail and (for some reason) don't want a thank-you card, just indicate "NO CARD."

Again, as ever, I'm so grateful for your readership. Please know that your support means a lot to me and my family. Now on to today's puzzle...

• • •

Felt lucky that I was able to get this to WORK OUT WELL in the end, because the Downs-only solve was definitely a struggle for me today. It started out very smoothly, as I ran the table on the first five Downs I looked at, but after that, my progress became halting and awkward. Got OAKS and could see that the first word of 17A had to be (probably) JACKSON, but I crossed that "N" with FINS (6D: Scuba gear = TANK), and screech, no more progress in that direction. I managed to get down the west side of the grid, all the way down through CHERRY PIT, but once down there, yeesh, that SW corner. Couldn't decide on SCAB v. SCAR (56D: Covering over a wound), had no idea about LULL, but the real problem was that I could not figure out how to make any kind of answer out of S-YN--. Even after I got it down to S-YNOD, I just stared at it. I know the word "synod," but there was an extra space in there. SKY NOD, is that a thing? I figured I had something wrong, but all the crosses were very right, and so eventually I just had to run the alphabet to come up with SLY NOD. Not a happy discovery. SLY NOD must've come from someone's overcrowded wordlist. I can imagine sly looks and sly grins, but SLY NOD ... man, it just doesn't look good. I'm not sure how a nod can be "sly." Metaphorically, maybe, in the sense of a subtle reference ("... De Palma's SLY NOD to Hitchcock..."), but as clued, it's harder to see (56A: Gesture suggesting "I see what you did there"). I just searched ["sly nod"], in quotation marks, and most of the first hits that come up are crossword-answer sites referencing this clue. I didn't actually work out SLY NOD until the very, very end of the solve.

["... and giving a [SLY?] NOD, up the chimney he rose!"]

I also had some trouble remembering pets with food in cheek pouches (44D: Pet that stores food in cheek pouches). Chipmunks aren't really pets. Weirdly wanted ECHIDNA. Are those pets? Maybe I'm thinking of chinchilla? Echidnas are spiny anteaters of Australia and Papua New Guinea, so no, probably not pets. Anyway, not sure why HAMSTER wouldn't come to me, but it wouldn't. For a while. Until I got the "H" from HO-HUM. As for the WEI dynasty—no way, no how (64D: Early Chinese dynasty). I worked out WELL from the theme (which I could see at that point), and just inferred the other two letters. Eventually had to get back up to the top and fix the whole FINS debacle. After that, I bounced to the SW corner where I finished up with (ugh) SLY NOD. While I didn't like SLY NOD, I did like the theme. Or, rather, I thought it was just OK ... when I thought it was just a bunch of holes in the ground. Because I solved Downs-only, I didn't notice that DIGIT was a revealer. I thought that maybe the puzzle didn't have a revealer at all. But the reinterpretation of DIGIT is clever, and, combined with mostly solid fill, lifts this one into somewhat above-average territory.

Bullets:

52A: "Let me clarify ..." ("I MEANT...") — somehow "I MEANT" is 10x worse than "I MEAN" as fill, and the clue today compounds the problem. The clue and answer aren't grammatically parallel. "Let me clarify" is a complete sentence. "I MEANT" is not. After "Let me clarify...," despite the ellipsis, you would start a new sentence, whereas "I MEANT" would be followed immediately by a dependent clause ("... [that] I can't..." "... [that] you don't ..."). There's probably some way to swap them out one for the other, but my brain can't hear it.
12D: From ___ to dusk (DAWN) — easy enough, but I know the phrase the other way around: "from dusk to (or til) DAWN." Maybe I've been listening to too much music about partying all the time. Or else the Tarantino movie title is wielding undue influence. Oh, no ... I remember now who's responsible:

30A: "Enola Holmes" actress ___ Bobby Brown (MILLIE) — I feel like crosswords are single-handedly keeping Enola Holmes in our collective memories, usually as the non-ENOLA Gay clue for ENOLA. For that reason, I think it's important to steer away from Enola Holmes whenever possible. The first half of the final season of Stranger Things just dropped last month. That's the show that made her famous. I would've used that show here, for reasons of timeliness, and also to prevent ENOLA Fatigue.

1D: Magic charms (MOJOS) — got this right away, which feels like a very Crossword reflex. Like, I don't think I ever thought of "mojo" this way before crosswords, but now ... it's right there. Top of the brain.
34D: Center of a stone fruit (CHERRY PIT) — At the center of *a* stone fruit is a "pit." At the center of one specific type of stone fruit is a CHERRY PIT. This distinction caused me several seconds of hesitation, but once I got the "C" in there (from LYCRA, where it was easy to infer—not much else can go in that empty place ... nothing, in fact), I was able to imagine CHERRY and that was that.

That's all. See you next time.

And remember: 🌲🐈Holiday Pet Pics🐕🌲 can be sent to me through this Thursday (rexparker at icloud dot com), at which point I'll start posting them in waves, after every post through the end of the year. I'l be waiting patiently by my Inbox ... just as Sunny here waits patiently by the tree for Santa ... or for you to leave the room so she can destroy your tree:

[thank you, "crayonbeam"]

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on BlueSky and Facebook and Letterboxd]
=============================
❤️ Support this blog ❤️: