THEME: Prince CHARLES — All clues are "titles for this puzzle's subject," who is "spelled in order by the circled letters"
Theme answers:
EARL OF CHESTER
BARON OF RENFREW
DUKE OF CORNWALL
PRINCE OF WALES
Word of the Day:Peter RABE(35A: Broccoli ___) —
Peter Rabe aka Peter Rabinowitsch, (1921–1990), was a German American writer who also wrote under the names Marco Malaponte and J. T. MacCargo (though not all of the latter's books were by him). Rabe was the author of over 30 books, mostly of crime fiction, published between 1955 and 1975. [...] In an essay included in the book Murder off the Rack, edited by Jon L. Breen, Donald E. Westlake opens with the line, "Peter Rabe wrote the best books with the worst titles of anybody I can think of." When Gold Medal changed the titles of Rabe's first two books from The Ticker and The Hook to Stop This Man! and Benny Muscles In, a pattern was set that would last throughout his career. (wikipedia)
• • •
What, no DUKE OF ROTHESAY (14)!? No EARL OF CARRICK (13)!? Bah and pah! [/fakeindignation]
If there's a theme out there that I could care less about, I'd like to see it. Puzzle is about as interesting as its subject (to me). A giant Who Cares? hovers over this whole endeavor. Do you know how hard it is to get CHARLES to appear in order in this guy's titles. First and last themers contain everything but the "A," so what you put in second and third slots barely matters. All that matters is symmetry. In fact, you could replace EARL OF CHESTER and BARON OF RENFREW with EARL OF CARRICK and DUKE OF ROTHESAY, respectively, and the theme would still work. And I'd still care just as little. On the fill front, it's not good. Way way way too much short, tired, old, common stuff, including crosswordesey names like TERI / POLO and Mark O'MEARA and whichever ALOU they used today. 1-Across was ENGR—the saddest opening gimme I was ever gimmen. That answer pretty much set the tone for fill quality the rest of the way.
["Nothing Compares 2 U"]
Not sure I made any wrong turns in this one. Didn't know the first two CHARLES titles at all, but they filled themselves in easily via crosses. ALECTO plays an important role in the Aeneid, which I teach frequently; I'm used to the two-L version of her name, but the "A" from TABOR was enough for me to guess her name there. Speaking of small drums, I briefly thought TABLA for 5A: Small drum. Turns out, TABLA is a *pair* of small drums. So ... I hope that tidbit solves all your future TABOR/TABLA confusions. Aeneid knowledge also came in handy for 62A: English poet laureate Nahum (TATE), as he wrote the libretto for Purcell's Dido & Aeneas (which was first performed in the late 17th century) (I'm teaching 17th-century literature in the upcoming TERM) (I should probably get on that) (Good day).
THEME: LIVES OF EASE (59A: Carefree existences ... or, punnily, what 17-, 27- and 45-Across have) — answers are LIVES (i.e. human beings) with only "E"s as vowels in their names:
Theme answers:
PEE WEE REESE (17A: 1940w-'50s Dodgers great who lent support to Jackie Robinson)
ELLEN DEGENERES (27A: Comedian who hosted the 2014 Oscars)
RENEE ZELLWEGER (45A: Actress with the classic line "You had me at hello")
Word of the Day:RIOJA(1A: Spanish red wine) —
Rioja [ˈrjoxa] is a wine region in Spain, with Denominación de Origen Calificada (D.O.Ca., "Qualified Designation of Origin"). Rioja wine is made from grapes grown in the autonomous communities of La Rioja and Navarre, and the Basque province of Álava. Rioja is further subdivided into three zones: Rioja Alta, Rioja Baja and Rioja Alavesa. Many wines have traditionally blended fruit from all three regions, though there is a slow growth in single-zone wines. (wikipedia)
• • •
I have 15 minutes to write this. Can I do it? We'll see.
Finished in 2:40, despite what felt like many hicc- and f*ck-ups. Stymied right away at 1A: Spanish red wine. Only five-letter wine my brain wants is SOAVE, for some reason. Move to 1D: In awe, and confidently write in AGOG. So we're off to a roaring start. Luckily for me, Ed ASNER got me the right track and then PEE WEE REESE catapulted me into the grid (though not before I had a RIOJO/A trip-up; this is why you check your crosses, always. RIOJO / ORE would've looked fine to my eyes ... but 5D clue says otherwise). After I got the NW squared away, I entered answers almost as fast as I could type, with only two real moments of hesitation. The first was at 27D: Vaping need, informally. First, I read it as "vamping" and wanted MIKE (you know, microphone, "informally"). My iPhone autocorrect also insists that "vaping" is "vamping," by the way. When I realized, no, it's "vaping," I just froze. What does one need in order to vape, except possibly "desperation" or "lack of dignity"? E-CIG? That's a weird way to clue E-CIG. Like cluing FOOD [Eating need]. Gah. The less you ask me to know about or think about vaping, the happier we're all gonna be.
The next and final slow-down was the revealer. Had LIVES OF ... and wanted EASE, but the phrase LIVES OF EASE has so little snap, so little crispness, that I couldn't take it seriously as a revealer. The plural is what makes it weird. It's a limping revealer. But it's accurate enough, and the LIVES part takes what could be a supremely dumb idea (themers where the only vowels are Es!!!) and gives it focus and specificity (all the answers are people, i.e. LIVES). Approved.
Relative difficulty: Medium for me, apparently harder for others...
THEME: MIDDLE EARTH (59A: "The Lord of the Rings" setting ... or a feature of 17-, 24-, 38- and 49-Across) — the letter string "EARTH" is embedded inside four theme answers:
Theme answers:
17A: Overcome an unpleasant misunderstanding (CLEAR THE AIR)
24A: Left-brain activity (LINEAR THINKING)
38A: 2004 film featuring Dustin Hoffman ("I HEART HUCKABEES")
49A: Reason to see a rheumatologist (ACUTE ARTHRITIS)
Word of the Day: HALAL (2D: Special-request flight meal option) —
Ḥalāl (Arabic: حلال ḥalāl, 'permissible') is any object or an action which is permissible to use or engage in, according to Islamic law. The term covers and designates not only food and drink as permissible according to Islamic law, but also all matters of daily life. The opposite of this word is haraam. (wikipedia)
• • •
[This theme has been done before, relatively recently, in the L.A. Times. See that puzzle here.]
Tore through this one pretty easily, but the times being posted at the NYT site are definitely running high. I tied or beat people who are much better solvers than I, so I must've just had this puzzle's number. Lucky day. I do like the revealer on this one. The theme answers themselves seem fine. Reasonably tight. I think there are probably a lot of people who are not familiar with the film "I HEART HUCKABEES"—maybe that's part of the reason times are running slow. I never saw the film, but I'd heard of it, and had most of the middle crosses before I ever looked at the clue. Even though it wasn't the most popular film ever made, I think it's a reasonable Tuesday theme answer. But the fill—it's somewhat less reasonable. Or less pretty, anyway. Lots of rather icky stuff. DLI OID in the NW, ESA IN REM in the SW, and then, all over the place, INI ARR ANY TWOA STPAT SHA ENTR ISOK ARCO VSO OTERI CTA ... that's a lot of sub-optimal fill. Three of the four long Downs are quite good (I'll let you guess which one I didn't care for), but overall, too much short junk.
That's all I've got to say about this one. Talk to you tomorrow.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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THEME: WH--L OF FORTUN- — The three E's from WHEEL OF FORTUNE have been replaced with BLANK spaces, resembling an incomplete puzzle phrase on the game show. The phrase can be completed by saying "I'D LIKE TO BUY AN E."
Word of the Day: WAUGH (37A: Novelist whose first wife had the same first name, curiously) —
Arthur Evelyn St. John Waugh (28 October 1903 – 10 April 1966), known as Evelyn Waugh, was an English writer of novels, biographies and travel books. He was also a prolific journalist and reviewer. His best-known works include his early satires Decline and Fall (1928) and A Handful of Dust (1934), his novel Brideshead Revisited (1945) and his trilogy of Second World War novels collectively known as Sword of Honour (1952–61). Waugh is widely recognised as one of the great prose stylists of the 20th century. (Wikipedia)
• • •
[Hello from Real Time, where it's Valentine's Day and I have an important announcement!]
Happy Valentine's Day!
Here's something to get for your sweetheart, or yourself, or anyone you know who likes puzzles—"American Red Crosswords." It's a collection of all original puzzles (24 of 'em) to benefit the American Red Cross's Disaster Relief Fund. After Hurricane / Superstorm Sandy hit the NE late last year, I noticed that a friend of mine had offered to donate an original / custom-made puzzle to an auction that was raising money to help support people in affected areas. Seemed like the kind of thing a lot of crossword constructors might be willing to do. So then the potential title "American Red Crosswords" popped into my head (Red Cross + Crosswords), and instead of just mulling it over for a bit and then forgetting about it, the way I do with most ideas that pop into my head, I uncharacteristically pitched the idea to other constructors, and then to the head of the Red Cross (who is a crossword solver herself). Enthusiasm all around. Virtually every constructor I invited to participate said 'yes.' Patrick Blindauer took over puzzle-editing. Will Shortz agreed to write the intro. And now it's done and available for download (as a .PDF) from americanredcrosswords.blogspot.com. Rather than selling it, we're giving it away and asking people to make a donation. There's a link to the Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund right there on the page. Please go get the puzzles, and give whatever you can. And if you could spread the word in whatever way you have available to you, that would be fantastic. Thanks! P.S. These are mostly easyish puzzles (think Mon-to-Wed. NYT), with a toughie or two thrown in for good measure, so don't be afraid ...
[And now, back to Five Weeks Ago...]
Hello, CrossWorld. Evan Birnholz here, subbing in for Rex while he takes care of an unusual situation. How unusual? Let me put it this way: You know how some NFL play-by-play guys like Al Michaels tend to describe injuries to players by mentioning only the body part and omitting the word "injury" (for instance, "Andre Johnson is out with a knee")? Well, Rex is out with a dog. No really, it's true -- his family picked up a stray yesterday and....I don't really know any more than that, except that the dog requires some extra attention right now. Hopefully it will all work out okay, whether they decide to keep the dog or not. And hopefully I won't cause a bigger blog-related ruckus in Rex's absence.
"I'd like to solve the puzzle" is pretty much a perfect mantra not just for Wheel of Fortune, but crossword solvers everywhere. This puzzle was a pretty fun and inventive way to pay tribute to the classic game show, which debuted almost 38 years ago to the day. Patrick Merrell had a similar idea in September 2003, but I like the execution of this one a little more since the blank spaces accurately illustrate what a Wheel of Fortune puzzle would look like.
Theme answers:
1A & 63A: One of a popular TV game show duo (WHITE / SAJAK)
25A: Request that would complete 42-Across (I'D LIKE TO BUY AN E)
42A: When completed, popular TV program starting in 1975 (WH--L OF FORTUN-)
34D: Something to fill in (THE [BLANK])
43D: Sign of an absent mind ([BLANK] STARE)
44D: Nonrhyming poetry ([BLANK] VERSE)
Despite the tough cluing in some precincts -- like on ABNER(18D: Commander of Saul's army, in I Samuel), INGRID (22A: Queen of Denmark, 1947-1972), and who knew that a crumhorn was a REED instrument? -- I actually found this mostly easy for a Thursday. I say mostly because what held me up for a while, not surprisingly, was the gimmick. I initially dropped in the entire game show name at 42-Across, E's included. That made it especially difficult to understand later on how on earth 43D: Sign of an absent mind could possibly be ESTARE. I wrote in I'D LIKE TO BUY AN, leaving out only the last letter. I thought it could plausibly be an A, E, I, or O, and I didn't have a clue on ELGIN (30D: The British Museum's ___ Marbles). Raised as a basketball fan in a suburb north of Chicago, I knew of ELGIN as a Chicago neighborhood and as the NBA Hall-of-Famer Elgin Baylor, but definitely not the whatever-the-hell-those-are Marbles in London. Actually, it turns out that they're pretty amazing, and in fact, I've seem them with my own eyes before -- here's a photo I snapped of one of the Elgin sculptures at the British Museum in May 2005:
To make matters worse, I started looking for some hidden gimmick to the puzzle that didn't even exist. I thought, maybe the grid forms a wheel of whichever missing vowel completes I'D LIKE TO BUY AN -? If so, how come I don't see any circled spaces? Even when I eventually caught on to the trick, I didn't land the a-ha moment cleanly at first. Here's more-or-less what my inner monologue was mid-solve: Oh! It's [EMPTY] STARE! It's E one way but EMPTY the other! By George, Evan, you've done it again, you plucky detective, you! It's a good thing I didn't think that THE [EMPTY] was a legitimate phrase for 34D: Something to fill in.
As much as I liked the puzzle, the theme, and the a-ha moment that followed, I do have some quibbles. First, that combination of WAUGH crossing both ELGIN and NAURU (29D: Pacific nation) was a little frightening. I've never heard of the author's name and so I needed every cross, and outside of puzzles, I know nothing of NAURU. I guessed that G was the most reasonable option for the WAUGH/ELGIN crossing, but it wouldn't shock me if others may have been tempted to go with WAUTH/ELTIN or WAUCH/ELCIN, if ELGIN didn't ring any bells. Second, among other constrictions in the fill, I was confused as to why (Pat) SAJAK was in the southeast corner, forcing the J and K to serve as terminal letters rather than beginning ones and generating the less-than-ideal AMAJ (52D: Key with three sharps: Abbr.) and ORSK (54D: Ural River city) as a result. Presumably it would have been easier to fill those corners if (Vanna) WHITE and SAJAK switched places, but who knows what that would have done to the surrounding fill? Last, and while this isn't really a criticism of the puzzle, I still think it would have been apt if WHITE were situated right above or below the blank spaces. She has to be ready to turn those letters, so what's she doing sitting in the corner of the room?
Incidentally, if you solved this puzzle on your computer screen, neither Across Lite nor the New York Times website will accept the solution as correct if you left those three spaces in 42-Across as blank. You have to enter either the word BLANK or simply the letter B in each space before it will tell you that you got it right. In fact, I sympathize with all those who solved the puzzle in ink. It's not uncommon to correct a wrong square using a pen, that is, if it's an actual letter -- you'd just write over it and make the correct letter bolder than the wrong one. But if you started filling in WHEEL OF FORTUNE in ink, only to realize later that the E's were supposed to be BLANK, there's not much you can do about it except color in the whole square.
Bullets:
10D: It's a mystery(ENIGMA) — "Nimrod" from Edward Elgar's "Enigma Variations" was my wife's entrance music at our wedding ceremony. Really great music for such an occasion -- I highly recommend it!
14A: Many a "Today" show sign (HI MOM) — Cute clue, but I couldn't help but wonder if the people in the live audience would actually write that on their signs. If this picture is any indication, the evidence says that they do.
23A: Moravian capital (BRNO) — I had EURO at first, thinking they were going for MONEY(41D: Some Monopoly game equipment) rather than geography. That would have been wrong even if the clue had referred to money; the currency in the Czech Republic is the koruna.
31A: One looking down (POUTER) — I've mentioned this in a previous post, but I'm still not a fan of turning just any verb into a noun simply by adding -R or -ER at the end, because sometimes, you'll get a word that nobody uses and the definition is just [verb + R or ER] = One who [verb]s. A pouter is one who pouts. They do a similar thing with FINDER (45D: One earning a fee, maybe); for that, I would have preferred a more modern reference to the search tool that people use on a Mac.
46A: Man's name meaning "young man" (SVEN) — My name means "young warrior." That means that my name could totally kick Sven's name's ass on the battlefield.
48A: Meeting place for mathematicians?(VERTEX) — Excellent clue.
56A: Military protection (BODY ARMOR) — Anyone who's ever played the classic James Bond video game "Goldeneye" for the Nintendo 64 will tell you just how helpful it was to find the body armor located in most levels. On the highest difficulty setting (007 mode), you couldn't get any armor. Yup, busting into extremely dangerous combat situations where at least 50 trained soldiers are firing on your most valuable agent at the same time, and he doesn't even get minimal protection. Brilliant strategy, MI5. I guess that's just how 007 rolls, but the repercussions of that are still being felt to this day.
Signed, Evan Birnholz, Earl of CrossWorld
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THEME: Broadway phrases — familiar two-word phrases in which the first word is also the title of a famous Broadway musical; clued as if the phrase related directly to the "Broadway" show
Word of the Day: ANCIEN régime (67A: ___ régime (pre-1789 French government)) —
The Ancien Régime ([...] Old Regime) refers primarily to the aristocratic, social and political system established in France from (roughly) the 15th century to the 18th century under the late Valois and Bourbon dynasties. The administrative and social structures of the Ancien Régime were the result of years of state-building, legislative acts (like the Ordinance of Villers-Cotterêts), internal conflicts and civil wars, but they remained a confusing patchwork of local privilege and historic differences until the French Revolution ended the system. (wikipedia)
• • •
Pretty standard fare, about which I have no strong feelings. Right-over-the-plate "First Words"-type puzzle, with the "Broadway" cluing in lieu of a "Broadway" revealer. So far this week has been textbook, difficulty-wise. Monday in the 2s, Tuesday in the 3s, Wednesday in the 4s. Thematically, this is the best puzzle of the week so far, but sadly that's not saying much. Outside the theme answers, the fill was pretty ragged. AAHS next to PSAT. EPA RLS NAS in the middle. INIS XTRA. SEEPY? I could go on (and on). Lots and lots and lots of ick. This lack of attention to the overall quality of fill has been a real problem of late—something that many of my constructor friends remark on regularly. I don't know why standards seem so low for non-theme fill. I get that there is a "theme-above-all" attitude that prevails, but overall fill quality should have a slightly higher bar to clear than it currently seems to have.
Theme answers:
17A: Security desk at a Broaeway theater? (RENT CONTROL) — security desks are called "controls?" News to me.
23A: Simian on a Broadway set? (GREASE MONKEY)
37A: Understudy in a Broadway show? (HAIR REPLACEMENT)
48A: Pessimistic Broadway investors? (CHICAGO BEARS) — somehow never noticed until today that Chicago has both BULLS and BEARS
59A: Nighttime Broadway wardrobe? (CATS PAJAMAS)
There were a few tricky places in the grid today. Had GAEA and then RHEA as the [Mother of Helios] (THEA), which meant TITUS took some time to come into view (7D: Emperor who completed the Colosseum). I thought the ["Sesame Street" supporter, in brief] was going to be a single human being, like a PBS donor or something, so NEA needed crosses. I will never ever remember whatever it is that MASADA is, despite seeing it several times now (46D: Siege site of A.D. 72), and it took some scrambling to put it together today because I had ODESSA at first at 46A: Greek peak SE of Olympus (MT. OSSA). I guess you can tell what letters I had in place when I made that (bad, unthinking) guess. Clue on ESP was interesting. Normally I'm against elaborate clues for junk fill, but that some trivia I don't mind knowing (52D: Subj. of a space-to-earth experiment on Apollo 14). Did not get the pleasure of encountering the MOE clue until I had it completely filled in from crosses (62A: "The Simpsons" character who says "Oh geez" a lot).
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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THEME: SIX DEGREES (40A: Often-cited distance between things ... or what's hidden in this puzzle) — rebus puzzle with SIX educational DEGREES crammed into squares throughout the grid
Word of the Day: MABEL / MERCER (5D: With 52-Down English born cabaret singer) —
Mabel Mercer (3 February 1900 – 20 April 1984) was an English-born cabaret singer who performed in the United States, Britain, and Europe with the greats in jazz and cabaret. She was a featured performer at Chez Bricktop in Paris, owned by the hostess Bricktop, and performed in such clubs as Le Ruban Bleu, Tony's, the RSVP, the Carlyle, the St. Regis Hotel, and eventually her own room, the Byline Club. Among those who frequently attended Mercer's shows was Frank Sinatra, who made no secret of his emulating her phrasing and story-telling techniques. (wikipedia)
• • •
This was a toughie. Usually SIX DEGREES is attached to the phrase OF SEPARATION, and I've never heard it used of distance between "things" (as the clue indicates), only people. I've seen educational degrees used as the basis of a puzzle theme before, but probably not quite like this. The fill in this puzzle is kind of strained, but that's somewhat to be expected in a rebus puzzle, especially one with a couple of tough squares to pull off (BFA and MBA). Puzzle seemed slightly over-reliant on mild esoterica—plus it uses STAR twice (DOG STAR and S-STARS) (14D: Its rising signaled the flooding of the Nile in ancient Egypt + 74A: Cool red giants) —but I mostly enjoyed it. Seems about an average Thursday rebus puzzle.
Picked up the rebus at ICE MAKER, though I didn't know if EM or MA was the rebus square at first. With MA in one square, I thought maybe there'd be some kind of family or kinship theme, but then SIX gave me SIX DEGREES, and I knew what was up. Even so, finding five more different degrees was tough. Helps to know they're out there, but when you don't know what degrees they are, or where they are, you still have to flail around quite a bit. Had some trouble in the SE, around NERD (?) (63A: Creature in Dr. Seuss's "If I Ran the Zoo") and TRUDGER (??) (48D: Weary walker) and BEASTIE (47A: Epithet for the mouse in Burns's "To a Mouse"). Had more trouble at the end of the solve, in the NE. ANIMIST (29A: Nature worshiper, of a sort) was tough to come up with, and that was one of the only ways into that section. AN ARM and CDS helped, as did partially remembering ERNESTO Zedillo's name (I had ERNEST ... not sure why I hesitated on the "O") (13D: 1990s Mexican president Zedillo). Last letter was the "S" in DOGSTAR / ARLES, I think.
Theme answers:
CABFARE / ABFAB (6D: Hit Brit sitcom)
ICE MAKER / MAINE
CMDR / EMDASHES
VJDAY / JD SALINGER(67A: Writer featured in the memoir "Dream Catcher")
BATOR / BASS HORN
SLAMBANG / ZIMBALIST (12D: Notable violinist) — best degree square of them all
Bullets:
1A: Traditional keikogi accessory (OBI) — I stupidly thought LEI at first.
17A: "Sleepers" co-star, 1996 (DE NIRO) — No idea. I probably saw this, but have no recollection of it. That's pretty back-catalogue, as DE NIRO movies go.
18A: Literary source of "Bless us and splash us, my preciousss!" ("THE HOBBIT") — read it as "precsiousness," so did not pick up the obvious "LOTR" reference.
33A: Pill bug, for one (ISOPOD) — absolutely no idea what "pill bug" is. Oh, it's one of those armadillo-type bugs. Used to see them in CA. Haven't seen them since moving east.
49A: Aegean island near Naxos (IOS) — stone cold guess that happened to be right.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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THEME: MAN (71A: Word that can follow the start of 18-, 24-, 38-, 53- or 61-Across) — Adding MAN to starts of theme answers gives you the names of DC and Marvel superheroes
Word of the Day: Springfield ISOTOPEs (43D: Member of a fictional Springfield baseball team) —
You don't want to know what kind of jet-lagged I'm dealing with. Let's just say my body thinks it's just shy of 3 a.m., I spent all yesterday on a plane, and I have to be in front of a classroom in just over two hours. All things considered, the fact that I managed to get five hours sleep seems like a major accomplishment. The main point of my telling you all this is that I can't get into it today. No time. Also, no brain function beyond the basic animal/survival level.
Still, I'll say something. I didn't like this one. This theme seemed weak and tired. I know I've seen something like it before, and as "word that can follow" themes go, this didn't have much spice. MAN is not a "word" that follows the starts of the theme answers. It's more an ... what would you call it? Suffix? Enclitic? Anyway, not a free-standing word. Superhero names are somewhat arbitrary, as is that SUPER BOWL. Come on. That's a Terrible way to get 2 Xs in your puzzle. Add to all that the doubled NO (NO PAR, NO SIR), the pile-up of governmental initialisms (OSS, OAS, NSA — 64D: Subj. of the book "The Puzzle Palace"), the random SCENE V (again, weak way to add Scrabbly letters to your puzzle), a preponderance of crosswordese for a 78-word Tuesday (SANAA, ESAU, ERAS, SAS, ARI, ODO, OBI, USH and on and on and on), and it adds up to not much fun. Liked SPIDER CRAB despite having no idea what one is. Did not like the IRON CURTAIN clue, which I thought needed a "?" at the end (61A: Continental divide, once?). Best part of grid = the NW and SE corners, esp. the Downs (actually, only the Downs).
Theme answers:
18A: Event held on January 26, 1986 (SUPER BOWL XX)
24A: Blue-green gem (AQUAMARINE)
38A: Idly debate (BAT AROUND)
53A: Long-legged sea animal seen along the Atlantic Coast (SPIDER CRAB)
61A: Continental divide, once (IRON CURTAIN)
Lots more L.A. crossword tournament action to share with you, including a great set of photos I just got from Paul Clay, but that'll have to wait til tomorrow.
Bullets:
1A: OPEC units: Abbr. (BBL) — Whoa. Really wanted this answer to end in "S".
52A: It's a little longer than a foot (SHOE) — that's kind of cute.
5D: Closing hour for most N.Y.C. bars (FOUR A.M.) — interesting clue for (otherwise) arbitrary time of day.
32D: Rabbi's co-worker (CANTOR) — Also the last name of the (Jewish) Majority Leader in Congress (R-VA)
10D: Community resident not affiliated with its local college (TOWNIE) — something about "its" isn't sitting right with me. "Community" is being used adjectivally, so it's a poor referent for "its." The answer itself, though, is nice, and will always remind me of "Breaking Away":
48D: Actor/singer/athlete/activist Paul (ROBESON) — that's some combination. I know him best as an actor/singer.
47D: Song words followed by "Terre de nos aïeux" ("O CANADA") — I had no idea. "Aïeux" means "ancestors."
55D: "___ Inside" (ad catchphrase) (INTEL) — wasn't til way after I'd finished this puzzle that I understood that INTEL was the company name, not short for "intelligence." I was thinking the "catchphrase" appeared on, I don't know, cereal boxes or something.
THIS GRID IS VERIFIED 100% CORRECT — please read my note to "Print Solvers" just beneath the grid — it explains the reason for the discrepancy between the on-line and print versions of today's puzzle...
See what the (empty) grid looks like in the print edition HERE
***[Print solvers: You have a different far SW corner — one that duplicates a word from elsewhere in the grid. That duplication was caught too late for the print edition, but was fixed for the online edition]***
THEME: "Abridged Edition" — fold the puzzle when you're done (a la the pictures at the end of MAD MAGAZINE — 83A: Publication founded in 1952 featuring artwork that does the same thing as this puzzle) to get other things that are folded, namely:
LAWN CHAIR
ORIGAMI
BED SHEETS
POKER HAND
LAUNDRY (presumably excluding BED SHEETS)
NEWSPAPER
Folding instructions are included as answers in the puzzle — 7D: With 14-Down, what to do on the dotted lines to reveal six hidden things that have something in common with this puzzle:
"FOLD PAGE SO A AND B ARE LINED / UP IN THE TOP AND BOTTOM ROWS"
Those instructions were not transparent to me. It's just not clear what "lined up" means. The A and the B have to be made adjacent to one another (i.e. lined up *next* to each other) in the top row *and* in the bottom row. If you were lucky enough to solve the puzzle in print, then you had handy little dotted lines to indicate where the folds would have to go for the theme answer to reveal themselves. Without those ... whatever, I've read "MAD" before, so I knew how to fold it. I'm just averse to a. instructions as answers (about the least sizzling fill one can imagine) and b. convoluted instructions as answers. This is an immensely clever puzzle that was just OK to solve. Six things that are revealed through folding reveal themselves only after you are already done. So nothing really... comes together during the solve. Just fill out the oversized grid and then do the parlor trick. Luckily it's a nice enough grid. Pretty open. Some interesting answers. Nothing to write home about. I had a very stupid error – went with ÉTAGE at 59D: Tour de France stage (étape) and didn't even blink at the resulting AGT cross. I might've blinked if I'd Read The Damned Clue — 79A: Quick on the uptake (apt). Bah!
Word of the Day:JamesFLORIO (21A: Former New Jersey governor James) —
I think novelty grids are cute, but as one of tens of thousands of people who *pay* to subscribe to the puzzle on-line, I'm getting a little tired of puzzles in formats that the applet and solving software can't accommodate. Second one this week. I'm told something else is coming on Monday. Make the software more sophisticated, give me a prorated refund, or cut it out.
I don't have much to say about this. It was super duper easy. One noteworthy thing — the SE corner was just weird. Not bad. Just odd. Look at the clues. 131D: Astronomer who lost part of his nose in a duel (Brahe). 132D: Animal with four toes on its front feet and three toes on its back feet (tapir). Long clues with odd details. I got both easily, but for some reason found these successive Downs something akin to a mini freak show. Creepy — as opposed to ugly, which is what EBERT'S crossing NERO'S at the damned "S" is.
Bullets:
1A: Letter-shaped woodworking tool (C-clamp) — flat-out gimme. A not uncommon answer. Not much out there in six letters that starts "CC-"
11A: Inuit word for "house" (iglu) — once made a puzzle (forthcoming in a book) with this word in it. It filled me with shame. It was the one hideous flaw I just couldn't fix.
32A: Only person to win Emmys for acting, writing and directing (Alda) — actually surprised there aren't more names on this list. I assume he got these all for "M*A*S*H" ... yes, although he also won an Emmy (acting) for "The West Wing"
72A: Heroin, slangily (scag) — read this as "heroine" and thought "well *that's* not a nice name..."
118A: Hanukkah serving (latke) — which raises the question:
122A: 1950 Asimov classic (I, Robot) — and, with "MIB" (5D: 1997 Will Smith/Tommy Lee Jones blockbuster, for short), another piece of the Will Smith corpus.
4D: Some early New Yorker cartoons (Arnos) — more names with "S" on the end! I second-guessed this, figuring I'd confused the cartoonist with the river that flooded in the '60s. But not, his name is indeed ARNO. Peter ARNO.
18D: Football Hall-of-Fame coach Greasy (Neale) — like EDA LE SHAN (86D: Eda who wrote "When Your Child Drives You Crazy"), a name I learned from crosswords.
19D: Writers Bagnold and Blyton (Enids) — name + S times .. what are we up to now, four?
48D: Valve in some fireplaces (gas tap) — perhaps the hardest part of the puzzle for me. Not hard, actually, just ... not a word I've heard before, and thus not an answer I trusted very strongly.
50D: Han's hon (Leia) — Brendan Quigley turned me on to this 70 minute (!?) film critiquing "Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace" — there are oddly disturbing components to it, but overall it's pretty genius, and often LOL funny.
117D: Gershwin musical of 1928 ("Rosalie") — should have brought this up when I was discussing the odd SE corner. Never (or barely) heard of this. Needed nearly every cross, and just educatedly guessed the "S" (figured it wasn't "ROTALIE").
124D: Skipjack and yellowfin (tunas) — for the ENIDS. They love TUNAS.
And now your Tweets of the Week, puzzle chatter from the Twitterverse:
@annafaceThe last 30 seconds of "Community" were AWESOME. Crossword puzzle ftw!
@grievanceFinished my first ever Saturday NYT crossword. No Googling, no cheating! Would it be wrong to start drinking to celebrate?
@plannerbenIs waiting for the Saturday crossword the way a puma awaits a sick antelope.
@heardatsbux"What's the active ingredient in marijuana? PCP?" -old man working on a crossword puzzle.
@le_ponchDoing the crossword. A clue is Haberdasher's rackful. Thanks to ICarly I know what haberdasher's carry. Haha
@EricTheActorWant interview in the NYTimes for using my FAKE name in the crossword puzzle. Using the word Midget is racist and someone should be fired!
@bukkheadCan I tell you something? It's really hard to do a crossword puzzle while listening to Frank Zappa's "In France." Just sayin.
THEME: FLOWER GIRLS (62A: Certain wedding participants ... or a hint to 17-, 28- and 46-Across?) — three women whose first names are flowers. That's it.
Word of the Day: EMILIO Largo (47D: James Bond antagonist ___ Largo) —
Emilio Largo is a fictional character and the main antagonist from the James Bond novel Thunderball. In the novel he is depicted, according to the British stereotypes about Italians, as a large, heavyset, olive-skinned, powerful man exuding animal charm, with the profile of a Roman emperor, and hairy hands which are likened to crawling tarantulas. He also appears in the 1965 film adaptation,again as the main antagonist, with Italian actor Adolfo Celi filling the role. Although Celi strongly resembles his literary counterpart, his white hair contrasts with the pomaded black hair that Fleming specified in the novel, and he wears a black eye patch. Celi's voice was dubbed by Robert Rietty (who previously dubbed the voice of John Strangways in Dr. No and later a man resembling Ernst Stavro Blofeld, in For Your Eyes Only). // Moreover, Largo is also the main antagonist in the 1983 unofficial James Bond movie Never Say Never Again, a remake of Thunderball. In Never Say Never Again, the character's name, however, was changed to Maximillian Largo and he was portrayed by the Austrian actor Klaus Maria Brandauer.
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Hmmm. This seems pretty weak, conceptually. There's the cute change-of-meaning in the theme-revealer, but ... women with names that are flowers? Not too ambitious. Maybe if you could have crammed another, obvious woman's flower-name — LILY — into the grid, I might have thought more of it. Grid seems fine, otherwise. DLI in the middle is unfortunate, as is OTOS over OTS. All in all, fine, if underwhelming.
Theme answers:
17A: Author of "The Sea, the Sea" (IRIS Murdoch)
28A Henry James heroine (DAISY Miller)
46A: Noted mother of nine (ROSE Kennedy) — wonder if there was any way you could have gone for the literary trifecta. ROSE of Sharon is a letter too long, ROSE Red is short, ROSE Nylund is a letter short and a Golden Girl (thus not technically "literary") ...
Felt much more like a Tuesday than a Wednesday. Between the super-straightforward theme and the remarkable easiness of the clues, this one feels a bit misplaced. I made stupid missteps and typoed all over the place and still ended up with a time just seconds slower than yesterday's Tuesday, and a good 2 minutes faster than last week's (admittedly Challenging) Wednesday. I wonder if MEME will make many people fall on their rears today? I know the term only as an internet phenomenon — completely unrecognizable to me in its bland incarnation today. Crossed one answer that it took me some time to see (DO RE MI) and another I didn't know at all (EMILIO). Both "M"s inferrable, thankfully.
Best / trickiest clue of the day was 15A: Cigarette additive? (sin tax) — me: "What the hell has SYNTAX got to do with cigarettes?" Odd gimmes for me today: OILERS (65A: Gretzky's team from 1979 to 1988) and (for reasons unknown) LYSINE (24D: Certain amino acid). Picked my new book club book yesterday — went with E.M. Forster's "Howard's End" based on the completely arbitrary fact that it's the first book I found in the bookstore that was published in 1910 (i.e. 100 years ago). I mention this because wife and I had long conversation before that about Louisa May Alcott and the Brontës and she asked if I'd read ELIOT and I thought she meant T.S. ... hilarity ensued, I'm sure. Anyhoo, weirdly, I blanked utterly at 32D: "Silas Marner" author (Eliot) just now, all the while thinking "Well, this is obvious, it's ... the woman ... you Just had a Conversation about her, you idiot ... your sister took an entire class on her ... come on!" Had to rely on stupid OTOS and OTS to help me out, because ARNIE was a complete mystery (41A: Morton who founded Morton's steakhouses).
Bullets:
21A: Harvard and Yale, e.g. (rivals) — had the RI- and wrote in ... RIVERS. Why?
26D: Gibson's "Ransom" co-star, 1996 (Russo) — had the R--SO and without even looking at the clue (note: bad idea) wrote in RATSO.
63D: Suffix with Victr- (-ola) — well that's terrible.
24A: Friction fighter (lube) — call me prudish, but ... no.
53A: Francis' home (Assisi) — despite my being a medievalist, my first thought was "Francis who?"
33D: Like non-oyster months (R-less) — hey, you know who else's name is R-less? LaDainian Tomlinson! (from, and for, BEQ):
THEME: MAJOR SCALE (30D: Theme of this puzzle) — rebus puzzle in which the notes of an ascending MAJOR SCALE ascend across the puzzle, from SW corner to NE corner, each note getting its own square: DO, RE, MI, FA, SOL, LA, TI, and DO. EIGHT NOTES in all (4D: Composition of 30-Down).
Word of the Day: TRISH Regan (15A: CNBC host _____ Regan) — Trish Regan is an American broadcast journalist. She anchors CNBC's The Call, (weekdays from 11 am - Noon EST), reports for CNBC's documentary unit and provides regular reports and analysis for NBC's Nightly News[1] and The Today Show. [...] More recently, Regan reported an in-depth hour on the underground marijuana industry which became the most watched special in CNBC's history. (wikipedia)
[Possibly the funniest promo for a news org. I've ever seen. Could she flirt with the camera any harder? Should be titled "Trish REGAN wants to f$@! you"]
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I found this Medium, but I have this strange feeling it's not going to play out that away among all solvers. Rebuses often cause solving times to skew way upwards, and this rebus was complex and took a good deal of work to ferret out. Love the rebus and the fact that the note progression actually ascends (just as the notes on a scale do) as you move from L to R across the grid. There's some ugly stuff in the grid, especially in and around the rebus letters: HOR and ALLA and NOU. And then a bunch of tedious stuff like ANOSE and AFAST and ILLAT and RLS. In fact, this puzzle illustrates rather beautifully the principle of "compromise fill." Going for the rebus (a high and worthy bar) pulls the quality of the fill down, and in this case, ALL the bad fill is right on the rebus faultline, so the connection between construction feat and fill decline is quite evident. Overall, though, the risk was worth it, I think.
Anatomy of a solution (rebus edition): Start out blazing fast in NW and remain on fire until OIL PAIN(TI)NG refuses to fit (tho' it's clearly right). OK, so we have a rebus. Ding ding ding (not DONG ... that's later). Now ... what's in the rebus? Everything after OILPA is unknown. Maybe "IN" is rebused, who knows? Moving on ... only NOT moving on because I went down what turned out to be the rebus corridor, and so Nothing was making sense (not surprisingly). Jump to W and embrace good old friend Jane EYRE (39A: Fictional governess). Work that section and then get SPA, which sends you over to 47A: Work for a certain therapist. BACK RUB fits, but you go with the more likely MASSAGE. Then nothing. Then jump to E and get ACURA and AGUA and FJORD, and from the "J" in FJORD (38A: Geographical finger) get MAJOR SCALE. Now ... back to OILPAINTING. So it's the "TI" that's rebused. Great. Where are the others? Finally figure out the DO ("D'oh!") in the far NE, and it's off to the (slowish) races from there, right back down the middle of the grid to finish in the SW.
Rebuses:
Ju DO (53D: Olympic sport since 1964) / DO yle (61A: Last name in mystery)
Je RE my Irons (53A: Voice of Scar in "The Lion King") / RE el (55D: Rod's partner)
MI tt (46A: Ball catcher) / A MI ty (43D: Friendliness)
A FA st (40A: On _____ track) / In FA ct (34D: Actually)
In SOL e (34A: Shoe part) / Ab SOL ut (24D: Smirnoff competitor)
Al LA (24A: "_____ salute!" (Italian drinking toast)) / Il LA t (19D: _____ ease)
Oil pain TI ng (18A: "Mona Lisa," e.g.) / An TI (11D: Not pro)
Wal DO (10A: "Where's _____?") / DO ng (13D: Half a ring)
Gotta move quickly — Thursdays are tight, as I teach and I have to take daughter to school.
Bullets:
5A: Player on the 1979 N.B.A. championship team, for short (Sonic) — Wanted SIKMA, but he's not "short."
15A: CNBC host _____ Regan (Trish) — along with Theodore OLSON (31A: Bush solicitor general Theodore) and AARON (48D: Claire's boy on "Lost"), one of several "WTF!?" names in this puzzle. Oh, add REESE to that pack as well (62D: Chip _____, whom many consider the greatest cash game poker player of all time). "Whom many consider...?" That is some weak weak weak-ass cluing. That's like cluing Glenn BECK as [TV pundit whom many consider a patriot and a hero]. It's true, but Come On. Give me a stat, a date, a solid fact. Something!
35A: Lago composition (agua) — lakes are made of water, yes.
36A: TV's Houston and Dillon (Matt) — it's a good lawman's name.
58A: Big-screen beekeeper (Ulee) — just added to my list of 21st Century Crosswordese (I have a list tacked to a bulletin board next to my desk).
2D: Raptor's roost (aerie) — 80% vowels! I saw a raptor yesterday. Actually, both of the past two days, coming home from woods. It was a hawk of some kind. First saw him perched on top of phone pole. Later saw him in what must have been post-kill mode — on the ground in an open field. He sort of looked up as we drove by then went back to whatever he was doing / killing.
5D: Pie-in-the-face giver or receiver (Stooge) — took a little work, but finally became obvious.
7D: Memphis locale (Nile) — it's underwater?
10A: First number in a record (wins) — wins and losses are how all kinds of records are expressed.
27D: Herringlike catch (shads) — ouch, the S, the S ... it hurts.
31D: They can be read by the illiterate (omens) — I doubt it. Reading "OMENS" has nothing to do with literacy, so boo to this clue.
47D: They're located behind the ears (manes) — take the "the" out of the clue and it gets a hell of a lot clearer.
54D: Old bridge expert Culbertson (Ely) — Crosswordese from another century.
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!")
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