Relative difficulty: not hard, especially if you've seen all the terrible fill before and recognize the cluing angles from older puzzles
THEME: "What Are The Odds?" — some entries spell out words / phrases with their odd letters, and those are then used to clue nearby entries
Theme answers:
[Moisture barrier supplies] for PLASTIC SHEETS, odd letters spell out PATCHES, which is used as the clue for GIVES A DARN
[A hard job] for NO EASY TASK --> NESTS --> STICKY PADS
[Fictional diary writer] for BRIDGET JONES --> BIG TOE --> LOW DIGIT
["One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" author] for KEN KESEY --> KNEE --> CHILD SUPPORT
[Conan and others] for BARBARIANS --> BRAIN --> THINKPIECE
[Client's sales agent, in brief] for ACCOUNT REP --> ACUTE --> NOT QUITE RIGHT
Word of the Day: SENTA (German actress Berger with a career spanning eight decades) —
Senta Verhoeven (née Berger; born 13 May 1941) is an Austrian-German actress. She received many award nominations for her acting in theatre, film, and television; her awards include three Bambi Awards, two Romys, an Adolf Grimme Award, both a Deutscher Fernsehpreis and a Bayerischer Fernsehpreis, and a Goldene Kamera. [I briefly got excited when I saw Wikipedia listed her father-in-law as Paul Verhoeven, but it's not the "RoboCop" director, just another dude that happens to share his name.]
• • •
Hard to tell where to begin with this blog; so many things I could complain about, and a much smaller, non-positive number of things that I enjoyed. Christopher Adams here, filling in for Rex, and really hoping that the wish from past me for a good Sunday was actually fulfilled. Instead, we get this puzzle, which, I honestly cannot say if any part of this proves that this puzzle wasn't made twenty years ago—so much of this gives off that vibe, and the solving experience sure felt like the slog of picking a random archived puzzle from back then.
Maybe the closest we get to a modern thing in this puzzle is BROCODE, which isn't great and feels pretty dated and icky as is. I'm not counting the clue for WINONA as a modern thing from a constructing viewpoint, btw; you could easily imagine that entry put in a puzzle that's older than I am, with that clue being an edit to try to make it feel more modern. Even if that's the case, attempt failed—so, so much terrible fill that I will inevitably miss some in the following list: OKED, HOR, OSE, INRE, PHYS, TENHUT, AEC, TASS, RET, SENTA, IS AT, PARI, CIRC, THE RAP (as far as I'm concerned, this is essentially a six letter fill in the blank clue even if not formatted as such). Plus clue/entry pairs that felt like Eugene T. Maleska was back in the land of the living: ERIN, ELIA, TAU, KEEN (especially bad, and especially when juxtaposed with the "how do you do fellow kids" feeling from ROFL—which, now that I think about it, might beat BROCODE for the newest thing in this puzzle, but also feels old and outdated).
[a clip from "Bridget Jones", mostly chosen because at 0:22, there's a brief cameo of Mark Goodliffe, of "Cracking the Cryptic" fame, and if you're interested in sudoku, I make those too]
But this is all to bury my biggest problem with this puzzle, which is that the words/phrases spelled out by the odd letters are being used as clues, when they fit much better as answers. In a way, I'm reminded of those old-timey themes (that you don't see much these days, for a good reason) where all the theme clues are [Spot] or something equally dull and boring, and the entries in the grid aren't really answers, but clues, and everything feels backwards. Same feeling here—[Gives a darn?] would be an excellent clue for the answer PATCHES, but that works because you're putting the slippery, fun part in the clue, and alerting the solver that something tricky is afoot with the question mark; on the other hand, having [Patches?] as a clue for GIVES A DARN as an answer does not work as well, and similar for the rest of the theme entries.
Olio:
ACC [Stanford and Cal joined it in 2024] — actually, this might be the worst clue/entry in the puzzle, if only because it reminded me of the travesty that college sports is right now; I cannot wait for the Big Ten to become so big that it naturally splits into a Midwestern and Pacific division, and then back into the old Big Ten and the Pacific (pick a number), as it should be.
TCU [The Horned Frogs of Ft. Worth] — there are much better ways to signal "abbreviation" than writing Fort Worth like that (and, imo, this clue does not need an abbreviation signal in the clue, given that the abbreviation is way, way more common than the full, unabbreviated name).
TOOTIN ["Yer darn ___!"] — I didn't actually dislike this entry by itself, but putting this right next to GIVES A DARN was certainly a choice.
KEN KESEY ["One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" author] — The movie based on this book is one of the many Oscar Best Picture winners with six words in its title, but that's not the most words in the title of a Best Picture winner. In fact, there's two with more than six words in their title; can you name them?
CHOCTAW [One of the so-called Five Civilized Tribes] — There is an essay to be written about how awful the word "civilized" is here; I'm not going to write it, but I will say that it says a lot about the editing process for using a very controversial term that inherently frames things with a white superiority complex, and that is very much not used by the tribe in question because of how problematic the terminology is (and it's not like info about this being controversial is hard to find or anything).
Yours truly, Christopher Adams, Court Jester of CrossWorld
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THEME: AEIOU (62A: Quintet seen in order in 16-, 26-, 44- and 57-Across) — theme answers contain the letters "A" "E" "I" "O" and "U" (each once and only once) in order:
Theme answers:
"WHAT'S NEW WITH YOU?" (16A: "Been a while! Any updates?")
HASHES IT OUT (26A: Talks through a sticking point, say)
APPLEICLOUD (44A: Online storage option since 2011)
WATERING TROUGHS (57A: Ranch fixtures for livestock)
Word of the Day: boilermaker (43A: Whiskey portion of a boilermaker = SHOT) —
A boilermaker is either of two types of beer cocktail. In American terminology, the drink consists of a glass of beer mixed with a shot of whiskey. In England, the term boilermaker traditionally refers to a half pint of draught mild ale mixed with a half pint of bottled brown ale. // The American cocktail originated in Butte, Montana in the 1890s. It was originally called a Sean O'Farrell and was served only when miners ended their shifts. // When the beer is instead served separately as a chaser, that is often called simply a shot and a beer. In Scotland, the serving of a half pint of beer alongside a "wee hauf" glass of whisky (one-quarter gill, 36 ml) is called a half and a half. [...] There are a number of ways to drink an American beer chaser:
Traditionally, the liquor is consumed in a single gulp and is then "chased" by the beer, which is sipped.
The liquor and beer may be mixed by pouring or dropping the shot into the beer. The mixture may be stirred. If the shot glass is dropped into the beer glass, the drink can also be known as a depth charge. (wikipedia)
• • •
I rarely say this, but I don't understand how this puzzle got accepted. The theme is completely uninspired. I mean, you get a couple of nice-ish phrases out of it (the first two), but ... AEIOU?! That's it? That's your revealer?? Just ... the vowels themselves? ABSTEMIOUS has all the vowels appearing exactly once, in order, is that interesting? (A: no). TRADE DISCOUNT? MACRONUTRIENT? AMBIDEXTROUS? GATHERING CLOUDS? HALF-SERIOUS? (these were all actually used in previous NYTXW clues for AIEOU). I just don't get it. Like, I don't get how this "theme" was deemed special enough to run. I feel like I must be missing something, some hook that elevates this above what it appears to be, which is just ... answers with the vowels in order. That's it. End of story. It's baffling. It's not bad, it's just not ... enough. Not sophisticated enough, not clever enough. The fact that these answers have this one feature is, at best, a curiosity, a polite "huh, interesting." As for the fill, it's mostly stale, with little to offer in the way of genuine interest, and the cluing is plain and straightforward. SNATCHED UP and ON THE WAGON are perfectly solid long Downs, but the rest of it is really quite dull, and loaded with overfamiliar repeaters. AAHS AWW NTH IMED INHD and on and on, including the always hateful but somehow undying (if not UNDEAD) IRES (no one says this) (32A: Angers). I can't think of when I've had less to say about a puzzle. It's just not giving me ... anything. Not even truly terrible stuff, or weird stuff, new stuff. It's just bog-standard puzzle stuff that (with the exception of APPLE ICLOUD) feels like it was made decades ago. In fact, I thought, "surely this has been done before, in the olden days." And in fact, yes. At least twice (in '96 and '03) puzzles have had theme answers where every vowel appears just once, but not in order (!?), and then one other time ('07) there was a puzzle (a Sunday-sized puzzle) with this exact theme. Identical. Even uses one of the same examples ("watering trough"). On the one hand, the theme hasn't been done in almost 20 years, so who cares? On the other hand, yes: Who Cares?
I had almost no trouble at all with this one. My biggest hangup came from an early wrong answer, when I wrote in MAZE instead of CAGE at 21A: Locale of a lab rat. After that, only a few answers gave me even a moment's hesitation: USE ON, which I had originally as RUB ON (30D: Apply to, as an ointment);"OH, DANG," which is one of those arbitrary exclamations you have to piece together from crosses (20A: "Oof, that's rough"); and IONIAN, which I simply didn't remember (45D: ___ Sea, body between Sicily and Greece).
Bullets:
38A: Force of habit, for some, in brief (OCD) — Kind of a weird clue. I guess the idea is that you take the generic phrase "force of habit" (which is not in any way OCD) and imagine it literally? Like, OCD is a "force" behind certain (often debilitatingly) habitual behaviors? Don't love it.
47D: Cincinnati trio? (ENS) — a "letteral" clue—the clue refers to the "N"s (ENS) in the name "Cincinnati."
51D: "Just so you know," online (FWIW) — "for what it's worth."
That's all for today. Sorry. I told you I didn't have anything to say about this puzzle. It's just not giving me anything to work with, or even be curious about. I do think it's kinda funny (in a wry, ironic sort of way) that SHOT (43A: Whiskey portion of a boilermaker) and BREW (49A: Batch of ale) both cross ON THE WAGON. I'm also now amusing myself by imagining Count CHOCULA's Tinder bio: "UNDEAD, UNWED." But I think I'm done entertaining myself, though. Gonna try to go back to sleep. See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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Word of the Day: STUPA (34A: Dome-shaped Buddhist shrine) —
In Buddhism, a stupa (Sanskrit: स्तूप, lit.'heap', IAST: stūpa) is a domed hemispherical structure containing several types of sacred relics, including images, statues, metals, and śarīra—the remains of Buddhist monks or nuns. It is used as a place of pilgrimage and meditation.
Walking around a stupa in a clockwise direction, known as pradakhshina, has been an important ritual and devotional practice in Buddhism since the earliest times, and stupas always have a pradakhshina path around them. The original South Asian form is a large solid dome above a tholobate, or drum, with vertical sides, which usually sits on a square base. There is no access to the inside of the structure. In large stupas, there may be walkways for circumambulation on top of the base as well as on the ground below it. Large stupas have, or had, vedikā railings outside the path around the base, often highly decorated with sculpture, especially at the torana gateways, of which there are usually four. At the top of the dome is a thin, vertical element, with one or more horizontal discs spreading from it. These were chatras, symbolic umbrellas, and have not survived, if not restored. The Great Stupa at Sanchi in Madhya Pradesh, is the most famous and best-preserved early stupa in India. (wikipedia)
• • •
OK, don't get me wrong, I appreciated the challenge. This one definitely put up a fight, something late-week puzzles don't seem to do that much these days, and I'm grateful. I just wish the grid itself were more ... pleasing, somehow. Some of the answers were, uh, questionable (a few ODDITYs, for sure), and so many of the clues just felt off or inapt—designed for misdirection, but perhaps ... overdesigned. A sharpshooter needs ... some kind of ACUITY, sure, but just ... ACUITY? I dunno. Not all (or even most?) ODDITYs are "treasures" (16A: Curio shop treasure). "GOD NO!" is a flat-out, dead-certain response to a question, not something you say when you see something fishy or unbelievable (14D: "That can't possibly be right!"). "Do you want to see the newest Marvel movie?" "GOD NO!" That's how that works. Like, "are you f***ing kidding me, absolutely not!" Whereas "That can't possibly be right!" is something you'd say if you were astonished by something that might, in fact, be true. I guess you could do a line reading wherein you make your voice more horrified, and put a little pause (audible comma) between "GOD" and "NO," but if you're alarmed like that, you'd probably start with "Oh." There's something tin-eared about this, and many other clues. And some of the answers as well. TOENAIL SCISSORS!? Do you all not use TOENAIL CLIPPERS? Imagining cutting my toenails with actual scissors is freaking me out. I don't doubt such things exist, but ... I don't doubt the ROSY BOA exists either, but what the hell is that? Do PUTTEES exist? Does an END key? I guess I believe you, but I can't really picture them. Stacking the grid with ODDITYs isn't the most entertaining way to achieve difficulty, and doesn't make for a terribly exciting experience overall.
I think the thing I resent the most today, though, is the clue on A SPOT—a horrible partial that you'd think you'd want to make relatively unambiguous so that the solver could solve it quickly and move on. No need to have the solver dwelling on the garbage. Today, however, this answer—possibly the worst thing in the grid, from a pure "how good is this single piece of fill?" standpoint—was the thing that held me up the longest, the answer I spent most time with, and all because of the deliberately ambiguous clue (8D: "Save me ___!"). Why make me spend so much time with the worst you have to offer? Of course I wrote in "Save me A SEAT!" because that is the more likely answer, so much more likely that that is exactly how "A SEAT" has been clued in the past—three times! Whereas "A SPOT" has never been clued this way. It tends to be clued in much clearer ways, like ["You missed ___!"] or [In ___ (having difficulty)]. It's been fourteen glorious years since "A SPOT" has appeared at all, but that era is now over. Sigh. It's weird how much one wrong (and very right-seeming) answer can hold up solving progress. Add "A SEAT" to "ESC" (instead of the mysterious "END"), and you've got me all gummed up in the top. Specifically, I could not parse GENUS AND SPECIES at all—and again, the answer itself is not pleasing. I know GENUS and SPECIES but GENUS AND SPECIES? GOD NO. I do not know or recognize GENUS AND SPECIES as a standalone phrase. And I was so happy to see Pauline KAEL ... really thought she was gonna blow the puzzle open for me (she got me WAFFLE MAKER!). But alas, no. I was ground down by ... "A SPOT." Bah.
The stack across the middle is solid enough. I could do without a MISSILE TEST in my grid, but GOOD SPELLER is OK. Despite the presence of the mysterious, made-up-sounding ROSY BOA (a debut, no surprise there), I think the center is the strongest part of the grid. The top is OK (GENUS AND SPECIES aside). The bottom, oof, no. Hard to think of a long answer more singularly unappealing than SONY READERS. A long bygone e-reader that I've never heard of ... in the plural ... why? And we've been over TOENAIL SCISSORS (CLIPPERS fits perfectly, by the way, if you didn't discover that fact for yourself). As a baseball fan for whom baseball season will start (mentally) as soon as the Super Bowl concludes on Sunday, I enjoyed RETIRE THE SIDE (46A: What a pitcher tries to do), though I imagine it won't be as pleasing to non-sports fans (just as I enjoyed SOLANGE (17A: Singer with the 2016 Grammy-winning soul ballad "Cranes in the Sky") but imagine many solvers will greet her appearance here with a "huh?"—this is her sixth NYTXW appearance, though, you should probably have her name committed to memory by now).
Bullets:
24A: Airbnb inclusion, usually (LINEN) — I mean, sure, but is that word actually used in the Airbnb listing? LINEN? I had the "L" but still struggled with this clue.
21A: Cause for getting stuck (MIRE) — Had the "M," wanted MIRE, held back because MUCK seemed possible.
30D: Woolen leggings, as worn by W.W. I soldiers (PUTTEES) — gonna go out on a limb and say the STUPA / PUTTEES crossing is gonna trip some solvers up. Those are both very specialized, foreign, non-everyday terms, crossing at a vowel. Seems dicey. I completely forgot that STUPA was a thing, and was so happy that some part of me dimly but confidently remembered that PUTTEES were a thing (though if you'd asked me to explain what kind of thing before I solved this puzzle, I would not have been able to help you). I associate PUTTEES with British soldiers in India. Turns out they were worn by all kinds of people and date from antiquity, but I think of British India. Why? Hang on ... Yeah, here we go: the word derives from the Hindi word for "bandage."
Worn since antiquity, the puttee was adopted as part of the service uniform of foot and mounted soldiers serving in British India during the second half of the nineteenth century. In its original form the puttee comprised long strips of cloth worn as a tribal legging in the Himalayas. The British Indian Army found this garment to be both comfortable and inexpensive, although it was considered to lack the smartness of the gaiter previously worn." (wikipedia)
37A: Instrument depicted in paintings by Hals and Caravaggio (LUTE) — picture me just sitting on "L--E" waiting for a letter to come along and make the LUTE v. LYRE decision. Because that's what happened. Thank god STUPOR came along to help me (though ... I could've used a less depressing clue on STUPOR (29D: A heavy drinker may be found in one))
39A: Use for a yew (HEDGE) — first read "use" as a verb, not a noun, which was very confusing.
27D: "Divergent" author Veronica (ROTH) — a real live-by-the-name / die-by-the-name kind of day. Never going to remember this author's name. I've tried. It just won't take. Whereas SOLANGE and Hermann HESSE and good ol' Pauline KAEL and LON Chaney and Michael CERA were real helpers today. So I guess I came out on the right side of the proper noun divide today. Mostly. But you don't tend to feel the ones you know, only the ones you don't. Only takes one mystery name to grind you to a halt.
45D: The Hornets, on a scoreboard (CHA) — not a great answer (CHA = Charlotte, btw—they're an NBA team), but I do have to thank the Hornets for helping me see quickly that TOENAIL CLIPPERS was wrong. You might say the Hornets beat the Clippers. You might. If you enjoy very mild NBA word play, you might. You don't have to. It's probably not the greatest idea. But you might, is my only point, really. You might say it.
[Couldn't find any clips of Hornets beating Clippers, so here's Clippers beating Hornets, back in January]
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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Word of the Day: ANNAM (13D: Former kingdom of central Vietnam) —
Annam (Vietnamese: An Nam or Trung Kỳ, alternate spelling: Anam) was a French protectorateencompassing the central region of Vietnam. Before the protectorate's establishment, the name Annam was used in the West to refer to Vietnam as a whole; Vietnamese people were referred to as Annamites. The protectorate of Annam became in 1887 a part of French Indochina. Two other Vietnamese regions, Cochinchina (Nam Kỳ) in the South and Tonkin (Bắc Kỳ) in the North, were also units of French Indochina. The region had a dual system of French and Vietnamese administration. The Nguyễn Dynasty still nominally ruled Annam, with a puppet emperor residing in Huế. In 1948, the protectorate was merged in the Provisional Central Government of Vietnam, which was replaced the next year by the newly established State of Vietnam. The region was divided between communist North Vietnam and anti-communist South Vietnam under the terms of the Geneva Accord of 1954. (wikipedia)
• • •
Well this one was full of surprises. When I saw the constructor's names, I thought, "uh oh, this one's gonna be tough, you're never on this guy's wavelength, good luck." Diehl's puzzles always strike me as ... I'd say old-fashioned tough. But not bad. Just a grind. For me. So the first surprise of the puzzle was absolutely tearing through it. AWNS SUE THOU and then WHATLLITBE (15A: Line at the bar) and *then* OBSTRUCTS (9D: Plugs up). So before I even finished filling in the NW, I was already down into the center. It was wild. Like being on a hot streak, where every shot you take goes in, every move you make is the right one, every step you take I'll be watching you. . . no, that's the Police. Where was I? Oh right, just shredding this puzzle. I kept waiting for the catch ... surely there was some trap door or some Minotaur or something that was gonna come along and stop me cold. But no, right down the west coast, into the center. Ironically, the first thing to cause me any trouble was an answer I *knew* but couldn't remember: the last name of the guy from One Direction. He's not Harry Styles famous, but he's very famous (with a certain demo), and I damn sure have seen his name many times, but ... blank. And since I also didn't know how PENTO- was going to end (30D: Puzzle piece made up of five squares) (?), no way I was getting into the SE. So I just went up and around. Tiny hesitation at 30A: Spear carrier?, even with PICK- in place, but then bam, PICKLEJAR, giving me the high-value "J," making DIY PROJECT very easy to get. Really closing in on it now...
Instead of finishing off the NE, I went down the ANGLE PARKING. Now here was the second surprise (well, third, if you count my totally forgetting Zayn MALIK's name): I don't know what GANTRY means. I know Elmer GANTRY and that is all I know about GANTRY, so I needed every single cross and even when I was done, I didn't know why the clue was right (38A: Cape Canaveral sight). I'm guessing it's something to do with rocket launches ... yup. The "2a" def of GANTRY at Merriam-Webster is a movable structure with platforms at different levels used for erecting and servicing rockets before launching." So if you didn't know, now you know. I wish it were just some dude named GANTRY. "Who's that over there watching the launch?" "Oh, that's old man GANTRY. He's always here." Anyway, GANTRY! Blew through it 'cause the crosses were easy (thank goodness). Headed into the SE with trepidation, but CLIME GUITAR PARKING just opened it right up. Zero trouble finishing it, despite never having heard of a PENTOMINO and despite the probably not-great proper-name crossing of MALIK and ALEK (who is like IMAN and EMME in that they are four-letter models who show up occasionally to help constructors keep their grids from falling apart) (44D: Supermodel Wek). But if you think MALIK / ALEK was a not-great crossing, well ... you ain't seen nothing yet.
So I head up to the NW to polish this thing off, feeling very triumphant, and there, at the very end, is the trap door / Minotaur / pick your damned metaphor. A Natick. A textbook Natick. A Natick the likes of which I haven't seen since I gave the Natick its name (when the"N" in NATICK crossed the "N" in "N.C. WYETH"). You know the cross I'm talking about. You probably came here hoping to see me complain about it. Well here you go: The 11A/13D crossing. Is. Inexcusable. Absurd. Ridiculous. Why? Well, crossing 1. two proper nouns 2. of non-universal fame 3. at a vowel 4. that is completely uninferrable—that is the recipe for the perfect Natick, and that is exactly what we've got here. Naticks are *unfair*; there are ways to stump people that are fair, and then ... there are Naticks. I've literally never heard of ANNAM. I am not that old, and while I knew Vietnam was part of what was once called French Indochina, ANNAM ... never made it into my brain. So _NNAM ... you could've convinced me of anything. And the dude on the Argo!?!?! I've read The Voyage of the Argo and taught classical literature and I *still* couldn't remember that dude. *Only* the fact that I *had* read the work and *had* been around the classics and classicists my whole life saved me at this crossing. I plugged the "A" in and thought "... yeah, IDAS feels right. It looks *insane*, but it feels right. IDAS / ANNAM ... gotta be it." Closed my eyes, pressed the button, and bingo. I guessed right. But literally everyone, me, you, every solver talking about this puzzle on Twitter right now, *everyone* knows that's a bad cross. How did the constructor not know? The editor? Editor's helpers?? Not going to blame the proofers, who *surely* knew, because WS is known for ignoring their concerns. Why would you do this? Once you "get" it, you can't even be sure you've "gotten" it without looking stuff up, which is, lemme tell you, the most dissatisfying way to end things.
I do think the "A" is the best guess there at ID-S / -NNAM) ... you can eliminate the "E" and "O" because those are answers that would've been clued other ways in the Across (i.e. IDOS and IDES, being familiar things, would never get clued this way). So you're left with "A" "I" and "U" ... actually "A" probably feels the *least* classical-namey of all those options, but INNAM and UNNAM look truly insane. I don't know. The point is, no solver should be in the position of engaging in this kind of stupid guesswork. Again, no one is saying IDAS on its own shouldn't be in puzzles (although ... it shouldn't really, it's bad, don't). And no one is saying ANNAM shouldn't (sigh ... if you must). But recognize that they are both patently obscure, and treat them that way—with totally fair crosses. Crossing them at "A," wow. No. Absolutely not. That's editorial incompetence. Or negligence. At any rate, it's bad. And for the constructor ...you make this *whole* puzzle, most of which is just fine, lovely even, but now the only thing anyone's gonna remember is IDAS / ANNAM and the residual icky feelings it caused. Why would you do that? This is an editing fail of the highest order. Jaw-dropping. That is all.
Life is too short for themed Fridays. This is especially true when the themes are this thin and stupid. A bunch of snacks? You replaced my Friday themeless, my beloved breezy Friday themeless, with a bunch of *&#$!ing snacks. I hope someone paid you for product placement, because otherwise this makes absolutely no sense. First, it's just not a theme. No, it's not. You could never, ever sell this as a theme. "Hey, I have this theme idea." "What is it?" "Snack items!" "OK, good, go on ..." "No, that's it. Just some snack items. Symmetrically placed snack items. But get this ... [giggles at self] ... for 3 Musketeers I'm going to put a "3" in the box! A number! Not a letter! Oh, that'll bring the house down." "... .... [wide-mouthed stare] ... ..." "It's good, right?" The whole thing is made worse by being clued at a Saturday level, and not just that, but ... like a 1997 Saturday level. Too much "watch me trip you up with my 'clever' clue for LEADDOGS (?)," not enough, you know, good fill and fun clues. Arcane and tedious, simultaneously. IZAAK crossing SUZY is a really terrible cross. A Truly Terrible Cross. But this thing was sinking from 1-Across, to be honest (1A: Blue dye => that crosswordese you used to know but forgot because mercifully constructors don't use it anymore, ugh). HISS doesn't even begin to get at it.
Seriously, that clue for LEAD DOGS (20A: Heads to Nome, say) is flagrantly bad. It's ungrammatical. Either the "to" in the clue makes absolutely no sense, or LEAD DOGS is a verb phrase that I was totally unaware of until this moment. That clue is garbage. It's a fireable offense. But that's just one bad moment. The whole NW is a clusterf*$% of terrible. First three Downs, barf. I was lucky enough to live thru the age of LYNDE, but that's gonna play super obscure to lots of people younger than me. ACTS is obnoxious, since the answer should clearly be LAWS (5D: Bills no more). The DEE clue, also trash (32A: Back on board?) (get it? 'cause DEE is the last letter, or "back" (!?!?!), of the word 'board'? Eh? EH?). USGA is an ugly initialism, and also repeats letters from L.P.G.A., which is in the ANNA clue (16A). You clued EDITOR as [Important movie credit]!?!?!? Jeez louise, try Harder. Be Specific. Give your clues Interest. I don't know what a PLUMB RULE is. I had PLUMB LINE (which fit, because of course it did). Ironically, this puzzle showcases tasty treats, while being decidedly not one. I'd rather eat HERRING butter cups. Saturday can't get here fast enough.
THEME: MAY / THE 4TH / BE WITH / YOU — hackneyed "Star Wars" pun for YOU, enjoy Theme answers:
MAY (1A: Could) (uh, hey, psst—COULD is actually in the grid at 35D: Polite kids' plea ("COULD WE?")
THE 4TH (8A: U.S. Independence Day, informally)
BE WITH (53A: Accompany)
YOU (55A: Recipient of the wish at 1-, 8-, 53- and 55-Across)
Word of the Day: First name? Ah, I see ... *Rod* MCKUEN (31A: Poet/lyricist who wrote the 1974 #1 hit "Seasons in the Sun") —
Rodney Marvin "Rod" McKuen (April 29, 1933 – January 29, 2015) was an American poet, singer-songwriter, and actor. He was one of the best-selling poets in the United States during the late 1960s. Throughout his career, McKuen produced a wide range of recordings, which included popular music, spoken word poetry, film soundtracks and classical music. He earned two Academy Award nominations and one Pulitzer nomination for his music compositions. McKuen's translations and adaptations of the songs of Jacques Brel were instrumental in bringing the Belgian songwriter to prominence in the English-speaking world. His poetry deals with themes of love, the natural world and spirituality. McKuen's songs sold over 100 million recordings worldwide, and 60 million books of his poetry were sold as well, according to the Associated Press. (wikipedia)
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Themed Saturdays are the worst. Why mess with the toughest puzzle of the week? Give me my weekend themelesses and you can back to your bad puns on Sunday.. This one holds up OK as just a plain Saturday—I knew from the constructor's name that it would be tough and old (out of my wheelhouse), but probably solid. And I was right on all counts (MCKUEN???? What on god's green earth?). But what would've been a reasonable workout on an OK if not exciting themeless was completely wrecked by this theme, which is insultingly trite and dumb—the worst, corniest, no-longer fresh or cute pun that internet fandom ever created. And then to recutesy it all with that horrible YOU clue (55A: Recipient of the wish at 1-, 8-, 53- and 55-Across). Yeah you can shove that condescending attempt at endearment. I return your "wish" with spite. From hell's heart I stab at thee.
[the '70s, man ...]
Also, this plays like an OLDEN white man's puzzle, real bad. The guy who believes he's a CENTRIST but is really a conservative. The guy who believes that as a conservative he favors BALANCED BUDGETS when in fact self-styled conservatives just want massive tax cuts and don't care whether they're paid for or not. The guy who works for some "business" with a PROCEDURE MANUAL. He's probably got his photo on the OUR TEAM page, smiling his smarmy gruesome boss-pleasing smile. Probably gonna SNEER at the millennials in his office and then drown his sadness in ITALIAN WINE as soon as the work day ends, because ITALIAN WINEs are classy. Nothing SEUSSIAN about this guy's life. Anyway, that's who I imagine this puzzle is for. This guy would definitely chuckle at this "joke" and want to share it with his "Friends" on Facebook.
Thought this one was going to startle me and be easy after the NW fell quickly (MAY MOPPED ARRIVE, bang bang bang), but CAN TAKE IT (a terrible "answer") was impossible to see, and so I wanted PROFESSIONAL something, not PROCEDURE MANUAL (which I really really really want to be PROCEDURE*S* MANUAL—I mean, presumably, there's more than one). Monster of a time getting SEUSSIAN, even with -EUSSIAN in place (thought I had an error). Just couldn't get to APSO (4A: Tail end of a dog?—groan). Another "?" clue slowed me up badly in the SW—36A: Fashion lines? (AD LIB). Had that terminal "B" and kept wanting to pull it 'cause it looked so wrong. Did not mind the "4" in the grid. Throw a numeral at me every once in a while, that's fine. Had BABY blank and no idea what three-letter word could go there. Didn't know BIBs were involved in "layettes." Wanted EVERY BIT before WHOLE BIT (which is a much, much worse phrase) (33D: Full monty). Clue on LADEN was very tough—that lower middle area was the last to fall for me. I guess ARE TOO is supposed to be a cutesy little bonus theme answer? Today, I am among the BOOERS. Good day.
Relative difficulty: Medium (10:41 - the app says my average is 13-something, but it's probably right about 10-11)
THEME: Themeless
Word of the Day: SKIPJACKS (1A: Certain fish ... or sailboats) —
The skipjack tuna (Katsuwonus pelamis) is a medium-sized perciform fish in the tuna family, Scombridae. It is otherwise known as the aku, arctic bonito, mushmouth, oceanic bonito, striped tuna, or victor fish.
Hello there, puzzlers! Morgan here, filling in for Rex while he (and presumably every possible other guest blogger on the planet) is having a ball at Lollapuzzoola. I'm not good enough to join them just yet, but maybe one of these years... This is my second time filling in here, so by now I should have this down pat, right?
This was a very well done Saturday puzzle with little bad to say about it. There's almost no bad fill, which is all the more remarkable because it's a pangram!
I started off pretty swiftly demolishing the NW (it helped to plunk down LAYSIEGETO with no crosses (16A: Beset, as a castle)). I'd just had a delicious omakase sushi dinner featuring SKIPJACKS last week (the fish, not the sailboats), so that one fell in quickly after our good friends ANG (6D: Lee with three Oscar-garnering films), JOE (5D: Regular guy), and CHESTER (7D: President between James and Grover).
From there I basically proceeded in order, knocking off the NE, then SW, then SE, and winding up in the middle. Along the way, I enjoyed AQUAZUMBA (11D: In-pool fitness program), which I wanted desperately to be AQUACISER or something like that. I also loved (nerd alert) AT ODDS crossing DATA MINERS (42D: Out of sync / 59A: Computer statisticians), because it obviously made me think of the courses I teach on logistic regression (however AT ODDS was right next to ATE AT (45D: Irked constantly), which is not great).
The reason this was average and not easy, for me, was the mid-west and center of the puzzle. I've never read, nor seen Alice in Wonderland, so I wasn't familiar with the term MARCH HARE (29A: Tea party member), and I could. not. parse. SHOE (19A: Makeshift fly swatter) crossing KATHY (8D: Lead female role in "Singin' in the Rain"). Plus STOOPS (9D: Gets down, in a way) felt like it could be STOMPS, so I stared at that section for a while before plunking in the H and hearing the "success" jingle.
So, overall, this is very strong effort, with very little questionable fill. CITYPLAZA (23A: Urban open space) seems a little green paint-ish. NOTA (51A: "___ problem") is not a good answer. And I don't really get the singular/plural situation on ADMIN (34A: Ones in charge, for short).
Bullets:
OH SANTA (40D: Mariah Carey holiday song that was a #1 Adult Contemporary hit) — As an AVOWed homosexual (58A: State as a matter of fact), I call shenanigans, because I have legitimately never heard of this song. That said, I'm a Jew, and while I've come around on virtually everything Christmas since marrying a WASP, I still hate Christmas music.
MUDFACIAL (12D: Rejuvenating treatment at spa) — As I start my ninth year at USC and I no longer get confused for students, perhaps one of these will help me out?
OCARINA (36A: Primitive wind instrument) — I honestly only know this word from playing Ocarina of Time on N64.
ATTIC (38A: Story of past glories, maybe?) — I guess some people keep crap in their attics, which is better than using a Public Storage facility, but we just store cobwebs in ours.
TWO (54D: Derek Jeter's retired number) — By coincidence, two is also the highest place Derek ever finished in the MVP voting.
Signed, Morgan Polikoff for 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!")