Relative difficulty: Medium (well, very easy and then bizarrely hard around the answer CTU, which I still don't really know the meaning of and I watched "24" for years ... is it "counter-terrorism unit"??? OK)
THEME: AB POSITIVE (60A: What's an uncommon blood type ... or a hint to this puzzle's theme) — theme answers are two-word phrases where first word starts with "A" and second starts with "B"; the POSITIVE makes no real sense unless you know the original context for which the puzzle was constructed, about which, more below...
Theme answers:
ALARM BELLS (17A: Early warnings of danger)
AURORA BOREALIS (26A: Radiant display also called the Northern Lights)
AWESOME BLOSSOM (47A: Now-discontinued Chili's appetizer with a rhyming name)
Word of the Day: CTU (51A: Workplace of Jack Bauer on "24," for short) —
[well, in dictionaries, it stand for the Conference of Trade Unions (NZ), but in the context of the TV show "24," it stands for "Counter-terrorism Unit" ... I can't tell if this abbr. has any real currency outside the TV show]
• • •
Dutchess, 2002-2019
HELLO, READERS AND FELLOW SOLVERS. It's early January and that means it's time for my annual pitch for financial contributions to the blog, during which I ask regular readers to consider what the blog is worth to them on an annual basis and give accordingly. It's kind of a melancholy January this year, what with the world in, let's say, turmoil. Also, on a personal note, 2019 was the year I lost Dutchess, who was officially The Best Dog, and who was with me well before I was "Rex Parker." Somehow the turning of the calendar to 2020 felt like ... I was leaving her behind. It's not a rational sentiment, but love's not rational, especially pet love. Speaking of love—I try hard to bring a passion and enthusiasm to our shared pastime every time I sit down to this here keyboard. I love what I do here, but it is a lot of work, put in at terrible hours—I'm either writing late at night, or very early in the morning, so that I can have the blog up and ready to go by the time your day starts (9am at the very latest, usually much earlier). I have no major expenses, just my time. Well, I do pay Annabel and Claire, respectively, to write for me once a month, but beyond that, it's just my time. This blog is a source of joy and genuine community to me (and I hope to you) but it is also work, and this is the time of year when I acknowledge that! All I want to do is write and make that writing available to everyone, for free, no restrictions. I have heard any number of suggestions over the years about how I might "monetize" (oof, that word) the blog, but honestly, the only one I want anything to do with is the one I already use—once a year, for one week, I just ask readers to contribute directly. And then I let 51 weeks go by before I bring up the subject again. No ads, no gimmicks. It's just me creating this thing and then people who enjoy the thing supporting the work that goes into creating the thing. It's simple. I like simple. Your support means a lot to me. Knowing that I have a loyal readership really is the gas in the tank, the thing that keeps me solving and writing and never missing a day for 13+ years. I will continue to post the solved grid every day, tell you my feelings about the puzzle every day, make you laugh or wince or furrow your brow or shout at your screen every day, bring you news from the Wider World of Crosswords (beyond the NYT) every day. The Word of the Day is: Quotidian. Occurring every day. Daily. Whether you choose to contribute or not, I'm all yours. Daily.
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 two options. First, a Paypal button (which you can also find in the blog sidebar):
Second, a mailing address (checks should be made out to "Rex Parker"):
Rex Parker c/o Michael Sharp
54 Matthews St
Binghamton, NY 13905
All Paypal contributions will be gratefully acknowledged by email. All snail mail contributions will be gratefully acknowledged with hand-written postcards. I. Love. Snail Mail. I love seeing your gorgeous handwriting and then sending you my awful handwriting. It's all so wonderful. This year's cards are illustrations from the covers of classic Puffin Books—Penguin's children's book imprint. Watership Down, Charlotte's Web, The Phantom Tollbooth, A Wrinkle in Time, How to Play Cricket ... you know, the classics. There are a hundred different covers and they are truly gorgeous. 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 say NO CARD. As ever, I'm so grateful for your readership and support.
Now on to the puzzle!
• • •
I'm going to be very brief today, since this isn't really a puzzle constructed primarily for public consumption. It was constructed for the occasion of the recent wedding of one of the constructors (Ms. Yesnowitz) (read about the wedding-specific details here). The names of the bride and groom are hidden in it (AMAN / DAB / REN / DAN), and there is a touching hidden message spelled out by the first letters of the clues, when read in order, Across then Down). I will say that the "first-letters" message was startling, not because I didn't see it (if you're not looking for it, why would you see it?), but because *usually* puzzles with "first-letters" messages (yes, they've been in NYTXW puzzles before) have a very awkward feel to them, like the clues have been compromised (because, well, they have, for the sake of the message). But this puzzle did not feel as if they clues had anything weird or off about them. In fact, the whole solve was eerily smooth and fast *until* I hit the STYNE / CTU row. At that point, the puzzle jumped from Monday to Thursday level for me.
I can never remember if it's STINE or STYNE (composers, ugh, so many), and even with ARMY I couldn't really get CAMP from [End point of a military march] (I figured they were marching to war ... then I figured the "march" was musical and the end point was an ... ARMY CODA???!). The real killer of this puzzle, though, was CTU, an answer that has never appeared in the NYTXW before. I kept putting in and taking out GSUIT, but the "U" just made no sense. And then I could Not remember the exact spelling of AOC's middle name (49D: Elected congresswoman of 2018, Alexandria ___-Cortez => OCASIO). I always want it to be OCTAVIO. And then there's the very clever but Absolutely Brutal clue on CASTLING (39D: Rookie move?) (because CASTLING in chess involves the ... rook ... so it's more rook-y, but still, that is good). Finally, I had no idea DAN was a [Tribe of Israel]. My bad. Anyway, the net result was somewhat jarring—a very easy puzzle up top, a much rougher thing down below. But as I say, I have no interest in picking this puzzle apart on a technical level. It works OK on its own, but it wasn't meant to be solved on its own. It was written for a joyous occasion. So go read about the joyous occasion, and enjoy the rest of your day.
Relative difficulty: Challenging (interrupted solve, but somewhere in the 9s, I think)
THEME: none
Word of the Day: AGENDER (37D: Like some nonbinary people) —
: of, relating to, or being a person who has an internal sense of being neither male nor female nor some combination of male and female : of, relating to, or being a person whose gender identity is genderless or neutral (merriam-webster.com)
• • •
Very tough for me. The fact that my dog wouldn't setting down and kept clacking around the hardwood floor outside my office was Not Helping (I need quiet to solve, especially tough puzzles), so I had to get up and shut the door, and then had to loudly call out "Lie Down," at which point my wife responded "it's me" 'cause I guess she had just gotten up to go downstairs. ANYway, frustrating. I lost some time in there. I wish I'd enjoyed this more. The grid is very nice in places, but the cluing had a kind of forced hardness that I found sort of off-putting. By "forced" I mean that the toughness felt like it was coming by an attempt to get cute that went a little awry. At some point, after I looked at what felt like the fourth "?" clue in a row, I got a little exasperated. I'm still trying to make [Baby buggy?] work right for LARVAL. It's not the greatest fill to begin with. I get that baby bugs are larva and so if "buggy" is an adjective meaning "of or related to bugs," then ... LARVAL. But it doesn't quite hit the mark. I think it's 'cause LARVAL is not a word you can use in an everyday sentence, so it's hard to swap out, or reimagine, or something. Just awkward. I wish the fill had been more IMPRESSIVE. It's solid and clean overall, for sure, but mainly this puzzle exists to be Hard. And you can make any grid Hard with the right cluing. The only really fresh thing was AGENDER (37D: Like some nonbinary people), which, bizarrely, I don't remember ever seeing before (whereas I've seen "non-binary," "NB," and even the written-out term "enbies" (which I love) a heckuva lot). But AGENDER wasn't hard to infer, and it's a very real term that just somehow missed me. Original. Like it.
Much of my struggle came from NE, where LARVAL and the CREW part of CAMERA CREW (32A: Group that's on the take?) just wouldn't come. Also had real trouble in the SE because of (again) the "?" clue on 43A: Spot starter? (TEA KETTLE). I had TEA and guessed KETTLE but did Not like it (it "starts" TEA? Because ... you pour water from it? My "kettle" heats water. You pour tea from a tea pot. And in either case, "starter" is dubious. I actually pulled KETTLE at one point because I couldn't get Downs to work. This turned out to be because I had SURE IS! instead of SURE DO! (48A: "You got that right!") (impossible to differentiate between IS, DO, AM, ugh), and RARER instead of RIPER (54A: Tenderer, maybe). This meant the only Down I had down there was EUREKA (44D: Exuberant cry). I had TRANIS for 45D: Some Caribbean islanders (TRINIS), so I *definitely* knew something was messed up. Aren't STEP-INS women's underwear? I'm pretty sure they're women's underwear. I always thought laceless shoes were SLIP-ONS. That one was weird. Luckily, the Acrosses and the short Downs in that corner were way easier. The answer that really broke me, though, was MAJORING IN (36A: Reading, to Brits). Parsing that answer, my word. And just understanding the clue ... I assumed the trick was that "Reading" was the city or the railroad (thanks, Monopoly!). Eventually I was like "MAJOR what?" and then got it. It's a great clue / answer. Just ground me into powder. Anyway, enjoyed the struggle, mostly
Relative difficulty: Easy-Medium (felt like I was gonna be in record territory, but then I got stupidly stuck and refused to look at other clues, which a smart person would've done, and which would've sped things up tremendously ... anyway, 7:16)
THEME: none
Word of the Day: TACONIC State Parkway (20A: New York's ___ State Parkway) —
The Taconic State Parkway (often called the Taconic or the TSP and known administratively as New York State Route 987G or NY 987G) is a 104.12-mile (167.56 km) divided highway between Kensico Dam and Chatham, the longest parkway in the U.S. state of New York. It follows a generally northward route midway between the Hudson River and the Connecticut and Massachusetts state lines, along the Taconic Mountains. Its southernmost three miles (4.8 km) are a surface road; from the junction with the Sprain Brook Parkway northward it is a limited-access highway. It has grade-separated interchanges from that point to its northern terminus; in the three northern counties, there are also at-grade intersections, many with closed medians, allowing only right-in/right-out turns. It is open only to passenger vehicles, as with other parkways in New York, and maintained by the state Department of Transportation (NYSDOT), the fourth agency to have that responsibility.
Franklin D. Roosevelt, who had long envisioned a scenic road through the eastern Hudson Valley, was instrumental in making it a reality as a way to provide access to existing and planned state parks in the region. Its winding, hilly route was designed by landscape architect Gilmore Clarke to offer scenic vistas of the Hudson Highlands, Catskills, and Taconic regions. The bridges and now-closed service areas were designed to be aesthetically pleasing. It has been praised for the beauty of not only the surrounding landscape and views it offers, but the way the road itself integrates with and presents them. (wikipedia)
• • •
So easy to start (in the NW), and then I went right through the middle of the grid with GOING STEADY and finished off the SE with no problems either. From there, things went much more slowly. The middle was an annoying stack where 2/3 were "?" clues, and the top answer in the stack ... is just a gross concept in general. I'm sure that in theory the term isn't specifically gendered, but my experience is that dudes this term when trying to explain why they hooked up with an "unattractive" woman. It's objectifying and stupid and evokes a whole repulsive male culture that I've spent my whole life avoiding. So that's fun. Far worse, though, for me, is the completely asinine term ADULTING, one of my most hated of all 21st-century refuse-to-grow-up millennial-speak bullshit term (16A: Taking care of responsibilities like an actual grown-up). Yeah, being a grown-up sucks, but stop acting like it's cosplay. You're a grown-up. Shut up and grow up. It's so self-consciously infantilizing. Makes my skin crawl.
LOL to PERRY, in that ... she is absolutely unrecognizable (to me) without her first name (28D: First female artist with five Billboard #1's from the same album). She is first and last name. I had P-R-Y and zero idea what I was dealing with. Ended up getting it all from crosses, and then being like "Oh, right ... her." MILEY is at least known as MILEY (43D: 2000s female teen idol, to fans). On a related note: when was this puzzle made? Feels like 2005, but it would have to be after 2016, which is when "ZOOTOPIA" came out (never seen it, no idea what it's about). Proper nouns, man. Speaking of: TACONIC is some provincial nonsense. Lotsa letters strung together, none of them meaningful to me. Further: PEIRCE. I very vaguely know the name, but a. that is obscure, and b. that really looks like a typo. I didn't get too much joy from this. Lots of proper names I didn't know or (more likely) didn't care about, and a couple of answers I actively dislike. It's a well-made enough puzzle (despite your ARNESS and your EVONNE and your YSER), but not really for me.
Five things:
24D: Induces to commit a crime (SUBORNS) — Had SU- and wrote in SUCKERS at first. Then ... just had nothing.
36D: Receive as a member (INCEPT) — uhrerufewhrhfghgherrrrrr ... I guess? No one uses that word. I wrote in INDUCT, forgetting that the clue to 24D (see above) exists. PS also no one says ESPIAL(50A: Act of noticing)
26A: Growth medium (SOIL) — wanted AGAR.
26D: Ostentatious (SPLASHY) — wanted FLASHY. Really wanted FLASHY. Wrote in FLASHY, not even noticing that it came out FLASSHY.
32D: Want ad abbr. (EOE) — sorry, make that *three* answers I actively dislike. EEO, EOE, EIEIO, let's call the whole thing off
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
Actual PS: Who, just noticed that 9D: SOB stands for "son of a bitch," which ... was totally unnecessary, considering SOB is a real word, but OK ... (9D: So-and-so)
Relative difficulty: Easy-Medium to Medium (10:10)
THEME: "Silent Finales" — actually "Silent Final 'E's": familiar phrases where one word in the phrase has a silent "E" added, creating wacky phrases clued wackily:
Theme answers:
"A STAR IS BORNE"
"BYE, ALL RIGHTS!"
SEMI-PROSE
RUNNING LAPSE
UNCALLED FORE
EITHER ORE
SAVED BY THE BELLE
COPSE AND ROBBERS
CASTE LOTS
Word of the Day: LETHEAN (88A: Inducing forgetfulness) —
This is about as basic a theme concept as you can get. Super duper minimalist. It's a simple add-a-letter, with the one restriction being that the letter must always be silent. "Silent finales" isn't really a phrase, *but* you get a title word that is both literally accurate (the silent letter is added to the end, or finale, of its word) and punny (FINALES => final 'e's). Clever. In a puzzle like this, everything depends on how funny you can make the answers and clues, and I thought this one did alright on that front. Clue on "A STAR IS BORNE" was a bit (very) contrived, but most of the rest were pretty funny. I think I liked "BYE, ALL RIGHTS!" the best—though that was also one of the very hardest for me to grok. The whole middle part of that answer was a bleeping mess. I mark up my grids after I've finished and printed them out, and there is so much orange ink around the center of "BYE, ALL RIGHTS!" The problem: I dropped SWEAR TO down at 11D: Make official? (SWEAR IN), and then crossed it with ANNOY at 47A: Torment (AGONY). You wouldn't think there'd be a clue that could work for both ANNOY and AGONY but You Would Be Wrong Ha Ha Ha, ugh. [Spike] for LACE was also very hard, as was the vague [Human Rights Campaign inits.] for LGBT (turns out Human Rights Campaign is very much LGBT-specific, but you wouldn't know that from their Very General Name). And holy moly did I have trouble with 33A: Rey, to Luke, in "The Last Jedi" (PROTEGÉE). Lots of words and phrases came to mind, none of them correct. Cool new clue on ELSIE, though (15D: Big female role on HBO's "Westworld"). Much, much better than the usual ELSIE clue.
[Shannon Woodward plays ELSIE Hughes on "Westworld"]
I teach Dante every year and yet even I was like "... uh, what's the adjectival form of Lethe??? LETHEIC? LETHISH? LETHE-AL?" Never seen LETHEAN, ever. More trouble: [Small bother] for GNAT! I mean, accurate, but yikes. A NIT is a "small bother." A GNAT is a dang insect! And a BRIG is a ship (??) as well as a *part of a ship that functions as a jail*! (the only meaning of BRIG I know)? Again I say 'dang!' And also again I say I have no idea how I finished this in just 10:10. Other super-tough part was everything in and around SHELF (107A: Area near the shore). This is what happens when you try to get cute with the "let's repeat a clue we used elsewhere in the grid" shtick—you get a clue that doesn't reeeeally fit, but that's defensible, and ends up resulting in massive difficulty for the solver. Not a fan. So many possible clues for SHELF out there. Pfft. Anyhoo, had real trouble with 4 of the 5 crosses on SHELF: SAFEST, PILL, HARE, and SCAB (that last one because I misspelled SHARI as SHERI (119A: Actress Belafonte)).
Pretty cool / unusual that there were nearly an equal number of Across and Down themers—usually they're exclusively one direction, or else there maybe just an extra pair running counter to the majority, but here: 5 Across, 4 Down. Nifty.
Four things:
50A: Capital of Albania (TIRANE) — really really thought it was TIRANA. Thank you, Brian ENO, for saving my bacon there.
80A: Coined money (SPECIE) — not sure how I knew this, but I (mostly) did. It is a silly word.
75A: "Casey at the Bat" poet Ernst (THAYER) — I must've known this at some point, but darned if I could remember it today. To me, THAYER will always just be a street in Ann Arbor that a former girlfriend of mine used to live on.
68D: Shirking work, maybe, for short (MIA) — this one little answer really wreaked havoc with my flow in the center of the grid. This is a highly modern and colloquial use of this term, which I think of primarily in military contexts. In fact, I wanted it to be four letter so I could write in AWOL. MIA never occurred to me: that "M" was the last thing I wrote in, which is super-weird, as I almost never finish in the middle of the grid.
It's my birthday tomorrow so I will be off, but Laura Librarian (i.e. Laura Braunstein) will be here filling in. Ooh, and I get Tuesday off too (last Tuesday of every month is a Clare Tuesday, just as first Monday of every month is an Annabel Monday!). So see you Wednesday, then!
THEME: SODA MIXER (60A: Ingredient in some cocktails ... or a hint to the last words in 17-, 23-, 32-, 43- and 48-Across) — the last words of the themers can be "mixed" (i.e. anagrammed) to make the name of a "soda":
Theme answers:
17A: It might pop out of a kid's mouth (BUBBLE GUM) (Mug)
23A: Heavy metal band whose name is a euphemism for "Jesus Christ!" (JUDAS PRIEST) (Sprite)
32A: Main connections, of a sort (GAS PIPES) (Pepsi)
43A: Fashion designer whose namesake brand features a rhinoceros in its logo) (MARC ECKO) (Coke)
48A: Swinger's club [wink] (BASEBALL BAT) (Tab)
Word of the Day: JUDAS PRIEST (23A) —
Judas Priest are an English heavy metal band formed in West Bromwich in 1969. The band have sold over 50 million copies of their albums to date. They are frequently ranked as one of the greatest metal bands of all time. Despite an innovative and pioneering body of work in the latter half of the 1970s, the band struggled with indifferent record production, repeated changes of drummer, and lack of major commercial success or attention until 1980, when they adopted a more simplified sound on the album British Steel, which helped shoot them to rock superstar status. (wikipedia)
• • •
Jooooon! Haven't seen his name on an NYT byline in a while. So my first impressions of this puzzle are that it's a Wednesday puzzle. It was Wednesday-easy, and it was really a Wednesday type of puzzle. Tuesday, even. The only thing "Thursday" about it had nothing to do with the solving experience and everything to do with figuring out what the hell SODA MIXER has to do with those "last words." So the difficulty, such as there is, comes entirely post-solve. There are so many short answers that the puzzle is very, very easy to tear right through, despite a preponderance of narrow passageways (you know, those one-square-wide openings connecting one segment of the puzzle to another—they're all over the place, and they can inhibit flow ... but not today). What's really cool about this grid, and really instructive (I hope) to other constructors, is that The Fill Doesn't Suck. Usually, when a grid is designed such that 3- and 4-letter words abound, all kind of crap finds its way in there. And, OK, I'm not swooning over AAS or AMINO, but the point is that there's not a boatload of junk here. No random Roman numerals, no awkward abbrevs., and a bunch of very short two-word phrases that keep the those smallish corners unpredictable and interesting (NEW AT, TO NOW, SET UP, SIT AT, IN USE). Ironically, the only place where my progress through this grid was INHIBITED was ... (guess).
There is something really off about the revealer. The "ingredient" is SODA WATER. The word MIXER ... well, first, let's just say the phrase "SODA MIXER" googles pretty poorly. Even googling ["soda water" mixer] yields considerably more results. The word MIXER contains the idea of an added "ingredient," so SODA MIXER feels like not just a weak answer, but a semi-redundant answer. You would never, ever see an "ingredients" list for a cocktail that called for a SODA MIXER. The ingredient is "soda water" or "club soda." I know that the entire, admittedly cute theme rests on the phrase SODA MIXER, but I like cocktails almost as much as I like linguistic precision, so this answer was off-the-plate for me.
THEME:names that begin with two initials that descend sequentially ... that are reversely sequential ... you know what I'm saying ...—Puzzle note reads:
Theme answers:
CB RADIO (8A: Box with handles?)
HG WELLS (17A: "The Invisible Man" author) (just too easy)
DC UNITED (22A: Washington M.L.S. team)
BA BARACRUS (uh ... ?) (35A: "The A-Team" character played by Mr. T)
UT DALLAS (49A: Educational institution near Plano, informally)
PO BOXES (60A: Some return addresses)
TS ELIOT(64A: "Four Quartets" poet) (again, just too easy)
Word of the Day: E.D. Hirsch —
Eric Donald Hirsch, Jr. (/hɜrʃ/; born March 22, 1928) is an American educator and academic literary critic. He is professor emeritus of education and humanities at the University of Virginia. He is best known for writing Cultural Literacy: What Every American Needs to Know (1987), and is the founder and chairman of the Core Knowledge Foundation. (wikipedia)
• • •
E.D. Hirsch is way, way more "common" in my world than B.A. BARACUS (what the actual #$&^?), so that was weird. Also, there's also an E.D. Hill who is an anchor for CNN. Wikipedia tells me she went to UT AUSTIN, which I have to believe was the preferred entry at 49A, but was just too difficult to accommodate while keeping the fill reasonably clean. Aaaaanyway, leaving E.D. Hirsch aside (seriously, "Cultural Literacy" was a big deal book when I was in college), this crossword is more a very interesting curiosity than it is a satisfying / entertaining puzzle. Fill is reasonably clean, but almost completely unremarkable. Joon is an exacting craftsman, but there's nothing here outside the theme that's going to turn your head, and the theme answers themselves really aren't inherently interesting—they just have that initial initial thing going on (yes, I meant to write that word twice). The deep irony is that the most interesting thing in the grid By Far is B.A. BARACUS, which I've never heard of, and which strikes me as, among the theme answers (and, again, By Far), the least in keeping with the Note's stated guidelines, i.e the least "common" (honestly, I thought that answer was one name: BABARACUS (like Barbarossa or Barbarella), or else two names: BABA RACUS) (thank god all the crossings were fair and unambiguous).
Don't have much else to say about this. INKLESS is my least favorite thing going on in the grid, in that I don't buy it as a real thing one might say. Relatedly, the INKLESS region took me the most time, partly because I thought the clue on INKLESS (13D: Empty, as a fountain pen) was a verb, partly because I've never heard of Stephen DECATUR, War of 1812 naval hero. In inferred his name from ... well, from Georgia, I guess. Other than that, only good ol' B.A. gave me any trouble. On to tomorrow...
The Commission's five members were appointed by the President of the United States with the consent of the United States Senate; the commission was authorized to investigate violations of the Act and order the cessation of wrongdoing. However, in its early years, ICC orders required an order by a federal court to become effective. The Commission was the first independent regulatory body (or so-called Fourth Branch), as well as the first agency to regulate big business in the U.S. (wikipedia)
• • •
Tons of fun — assuming you keep *relatively* current on movies and television. Actually, nothing here feels very obscure or come-lately. I think "GLEE" is about the most recent title in any of the theme answers, and that show's a big enough hit that virtually everyone will at least have heard of it. Maybe some people forgot about "MONK"? No big deal, since the crosses and the clue make it inferrable. I think I might like / admire the theme a little more if the TV shows were, in every case, shoved inside the movie titles—then it would seem like the movie title was primary, and then altered (i.e. re-"made") with a TV show. So essentially you'd need to ditch theme answers 1 and 3 ... but those two are funny enough for me not to care *that* much about the inconsistency. All the TV titles are just one word, so there is a kind of consistency there. The only thing that really bothered me about the puzzle is the SW corner. A bygone governmental initialism crossing CAIRENE (a word I have never seen in my life until this puzzle)!?!? I ran the alphabet and still had nothing. Considered ZAIRENE (a native of Zaire???), but knew that there was no way a "Z" was going to be in a regulatory agcy. name. Then I re-ran the alphabet, slower this time, and saw the "Cairo" connection. Puzzle still done in better than average time, but I really could've done without that bit of obscurity/ugliness. In a corner that's already weighed down by A MENU, that crossing was a little much.
Started out very fast in the NW, but then slowed down. Ended up getting huge swaths of the puzzle done before I ever really understood the theme. Eventually had OUT ... OF AFRICA, then mentally filled in "HOUSE" to complete the joke, and (Aha!) I had my theme. There were a couple WTF-type answers in the grid (beyond ICC / CAIRENE). I thought I had at least a passing familiarity with Norse mythology, but I cannot remember ever learning about GARM (52D: Hellhound of Norse mythology). And TGV? It means "Train à Grand Vitesse" (i.e. "high-speed train"). News to me (79D: French high-speed rail inits.). Those were three random letters, as far as I was concerned. But again, my ignorance of this stuff didn't hold me back much, since the crosses were fair and mostly quite easy.
Bullets:
1A: Friends in a pub (MATES) — good clue. Confused me. I think the foreignness of "pub" didn't register w/ me.
13A: Baroque French dance (GAVOTTE) — that thing that you watched yourself doing when you were being so vain that you probably thought that song was about you. If you don't know your French dances (or your Carly Simon) (or the fact that Eli went to OLE MISS), that NE corner might've proved a bit tricky.
58A: NBC newsman Holt (LESTER) — I like him. It's hard (for me) to take contemporary news anchors seriously, but he seems to do a pretty good job, from the little I've seen.
76A: Old French line (ROIS) — I like this clue. Something about the vagueness of "line" makes it interesting.
90A: "Stoutly-built" Dickens villain (SIKES) — I've read one Dickens novel in my life, I think, and not the ones one usually reads. I read Our Mutual Friend. This is to say, I have no idea what novel this SIKES guy is from. Oh look, it's Oliver Twist. OK, then.
12D: Santiago's milieu in a Hemingway novel (THE SEA) — Pretty sure I've never read The Old Man... either. Plenty of Hemingway short stories, but novels—not so much.
95D: "I Never Played the Game" memoirist (COSELL) — also never read this, though I suspect I'm less alone on that count. I got this easily, and it really helped me round the corner down into that southern section.
I have two great independent puzzle projects to tell you about, but since I don't want to overwhelm you with information, I'm going to hold off talking about one until next week.
THIS week the project you really ought to get in on (if you are a puzzle junkie who is desperate for really good, finely edited, and very up-to-the-minute fare) is Peter Gordon's new Kickstarter venture, "Fireball Newsweekly Crosswords." For over four years, Peter wrote a puzzle every week for the magazine The Week, specifically about the previous week's news (this is what I mean by "up-to-the-minute"). He's now seeking to do the same thing independently, in a way that allows the puzzles to be even more current (puzzles are delivered instantly, the moment they're done). He's an exemplary constructor as well as the best editor in the business. The "Fireball Newsweekly Crosswords" are designed to be about T or W-level of difficulty (unlike his regular "Fireball Crosswords," which are Very hard ... as well as Very awesome—frankly, you should subscribe to them, too). Peter's are the first (and so far only) puzzles for which I've ever written a book cover blurb. Read his detailed and informative description of "Fireball Newsweekly Crosswords" here, and then support the project. Inexpensive and *well* worth it.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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Word of the Day: MONOTREME (31D: Egg-laying mammal) —
Monotremes (from the Greek μονός monos "single" + τρῆμα trema "hole", referring to the cloaca) are mammals that lay eggs (Prototheria) instead of giving birth to live young like marsupials (Metatheria) and placental mammals (Eutheria). The only surviving examples of monotremes are all indigenous toAustralia and New Guinea, although there is evidence that they were once more widespread. Among living mammals they include the platypus and four species of echidnas (or spiny anteaters); there is debate regarding monotreme taxonomy. (wikipedia)
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This started out easy, but it didn't stay there. NW was a piece of cake, SW a bit more thorny, the NE tougher still (I was thwarted by the unlovely combo of APPL and ARBOL) (10D: Washer, e.g.: Abbr. + 10A: Part of a Spanish forest), and SE very tough (if I'd ever heard of a WIDOW'S walk (41D: ___ walk (old house feature)), it probably would've been much easier). That tough SE quadrant is actually the nicest part of the grid—I just couldn't get anything except ZEBRA (45D: "I finally got around to reading the dictionary. Turns out the ___ did it": Steven Wright), MTM, and a tentative TREES at first. Well, I just figured out one of the reasons that corner stumped me—tiny speck on my screen was positioned to look exactly like a "." after clue at 56D: Direct. I figured "Direct." must thus be an abbrev. for something. Me: "That's a stupid abbrev. Isn't the abbrev. DIR." Ugh. That's some bad luck right there. Oh well, corner would still have been hard, as I don't know what kind of container a DEWAR is (I'm guessing it holds scotch?) (52A: Eponymous container), and I didn't know the official name of the OBAMACARE case (55A: Virginia v. Sebelius subject, in headlines) and I know SAM MENDES but forgot he ever won an Oscar ("American Beauty," I think).
Had AIG for ING. LOST for GONE. SEE and then GET for NET. These mistakes all made the center of the grid ... interesting. No idea what I would've done if I hadn't known FEIST (as I know many solver today won't have) (29D: "1234" singer, 2007). Took forever to figure out what came after GOES at 39A: Poses a bomb threat? (GOES DEEP). It's a football term. I thought "bomb" meant "failure." GOES DOWN? GOES DEAD? Don't know what GST is (it's Greenwich Sidereal Time ... yeah). Didn't know PAPA followed Oscar in any alphabet. So that explains the trouble in the NE. Only real trouble in SW was MONOTREME, which I've never seen or heard of or anything (31D: Egg-laying mammal). Every single letter came from crosses. NW, as I say, no sweat.
I have never seen a production of "The Iceman Cometh." I think it's the play that Dustin Hoffman fails to get a role in before he becomes Dorothy in "Tootsie." PIPE DREAM is the name of my college's student newspaper (1A: What many a character in "The Iceman Cometh" expresses). I have also never seen "ANASTASIA," but for whatever reason, I got that answer with just a couple of crosses (15A: 1997 voice role for Meg Ryan). I managed to tame that NW corner by going PACTS to STAY and TITAN and then ESSAY. Clue on D-TEN is kind of obscure, though the TEN part of the answer is inferrable from the clue (5D: Decahedron-shaped die, to a gamer). RIO was a gimme (11D: 2014 World Cup locale, for short), but BANGALORE took some thought (12D: India's so-called "Garden City"). My favorite answers in the grid form an interesting symmetrical pattern stretching from NE corner to SW corner: LOST A STEP / SOMETHING FIERCE / AS IF TO SAY ... Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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Word of the Day: "DEDE Dinah" (10D: "___ Dinah" (1958 hit)) —
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Another not-up-to-speed day for me, and my residual root canal pain is much diminished, so I don't know what my deal is. Looking back over the puzzle, I don't see anything particularly vexing—except the DE DE / D FLAT cross, which was my very least favorite part of the whole grid. Thank god there were only seven possible letters that could go in that slot, and only the consonants really made sense. DE DE won out only because DECE and DEBE and DEFE and DEGE all looked somewhat less plausible. I feel like most other parts of the puzzle came together reasonably easily, but he clock says I was poky. Ah well.
I put DJ BOOTH in a puzzle once (35A: Spinner's spot), in virtually the same place, but I think that puzzle got rejected. I can't remember what I did with it. Good memories. Anyway, intersecting DJ- answers = impressive. What the hell are OPERA HATS (53A: Some magicians' gear)? That answer was the main reason I had trouble getting into the SW corner. Are they different from TOP HATS? The only other thing that looked weird to me was ICE CASTLE (17A: Ephemeral decorative structure), but only because my only frame of reference for that answer is the 1980 movie "ICE CASTLEs," about the ice skater who has an accident and goes blind and then trains and skates again and there's a big finale where she skates great and no one knows she's blind and they throw roses on the ice and maybe she trips or something and then the crowd realizes what's up and then maybe Robbie Benson is there to help her up and then cue the theme from "ICE CASTLEs" (which charted, and which we had to play in band) and ... triumphant ending??? Speaking of ice skating, Midori ITO (24A: First female skater to land a triple/triple jump combination in competition).
Overall, this is a very impressive 70-word grid. Whatever UGH there is gets dwarfed by larger, eye-catching fill. The two answers that really struck me as fresh were, coincidentally, symmetrical: "LET'S ROCK!" (14D: "It's showtime") and DJOKOVIC (35D: 2011 Wimbledon champion). I made some mistakes here and there, most notably with SLUGS for CHUGS (31A: Gets down quickly) and DEFERENCE for REVERENCE (15A: It may be shown to a superior). But that's a pretty low number of missteps, especially for a Saturday. Maybe I was more methodical, less rash in filling in the grid (and maybe this has something to do with solving it on paper instead of on-screen).
Bullets:
20A: "Out of Sync" autobiographer (LANCE BASS) — assuming you know who he is, this is a nice clue. I had no idea until LANCE came into view; then, all of a sudden, the "Sync" part made sense (he was a member of the boy band N*SYNC).
33A: ___ Diggory, rival of Harry Potter (CEDRIC) — big fat gimme to start off my solving experience. Other gimmes included ITO and KITT (47A: Talking car on "Knight Rider") (acronym of "Knight Industries Two Thousand"). I'll be showing the movie "Knightriders" to my Arthurian Lit students later this term. No talking cars. Just jousters on motorcycles.
13D: British sci-fi author Reynolds (ALASTAIR) — now that I see the covers of his books, I've definitely heard of him, but the clue didn't ring any bells while I was solving.
52D: Iconic Broadway role for Cobb (LOMAN) — as in Willy. From "Death of a Salesman." Cobb is LEE J. (a 4-letter piece of ancient crosswordese that, thank god, you rarely see any more).
38A: When repeated, a Las Vegas casino (NEW YORK) — baffled, mainly because I never would've expected a solid answer with infinite cluing possibilities to be wasted on a [When doubled] clue. Evil genius cluing.
Tomorrow's puzzle is by me and Caleb Madison, so if you normally skip Sundays, well, don't. Just don't. Please don't. Thank you.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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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!")