THEME: HAPPY B-DAY (57A: "Best wishes for your once-a-year celebration!" (and a wish for solvers of this puzzle) — theme answers have multiple "B"s in them and all the clues start with "B":
Theme answers:
BUMBLEBEE (17A: Buzzer you wouldn't want to hit?)
BABY BOTTLE (25A: Breast milk container)
BASEBALL BAT (35A: Brewer's implement)
BUBBLE BATH (48A: Blissful soak)
Word of the Day: COCKLES (12D: Bivalve mollusks) —
A cockle is an edible marine bivalve mollusc. Although many small edible bivalves are loosely called cockles, true cockles are species in the family Cardiidae.
True cockles live in sandy, sheltered beaches throughout the world. The distinctive rounded shells are bilaterally symmetrical, and are heart-shaped when viewed from the end. Numerous radial, evenly spaced ribs are a feature of the shell in most but not all genera (for an exception, see the genus Laevicardium, the egg cockles, which have very smooth shells).
The shell of a cockle is able to close completely (i.e., there is no "gap" at any point around the edge). Though the shell of a cockle may superficially resemble that of a scallop because of the ribs, cockles can be distinguished from scallops morphologically in that cockle shells lack "auricles" (triangular ear-shaped protrusions near the hinge line) and scallop shells lack a pallial sinus. Behaviorally, cockles live buried in sediment, whereas scallops either are free-living and will swim into the water column to avoid a predator, or in some cases live attached by a byssus to a substrate. (wikipedia)
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This is a substandard puzzle. I feel bad saying this, but this just does not meet minimum requirements for thematic inventiveness or fill quality. Where to start? First, the theme, which isn't a theme at all, really. There are answers that are two-word (or two-part), where both parts start with "B" ... and then there's another "B" in there ... but then one time (BUBBLE BATH), there's two other "B"s in there ... so what? There's just not enough tightness to the theme. The number and placement of the "B"s is arbitrary. And there are other, non-thematic "B"s in the grid, stray "B"s in CRAB and BRUNO and AEROBE and such. You'd think if you were gonna make a "B" puzzle you'd have something to focus or anchor you, some parameters, some limits, *something*! But no, it's just "I dunno, a bunch of 'B's?" It's grim. To make matters worse, the theme answers are actually boring (there's a "B" word for you). You could've had BARN BURNER or BURT BACHARACH or god knows how many other answers, but instead we get this plodding set of very basic and not terribly colorful answers. But the main problem is the basic concept—there isn't one, or isn't enough of one. And then there's the clues. Truthfully: I did not notice that they all started with "B"s until I was finished with the puzzle and marking it up for blogging purposes. So that part of the theme was invisible, which is really the best thing I can say about it. Seriously, that you got me *not* to notice this feature is a feat. It should've made solving the puzzle awkward and painful, forcing this kind of severe and joyless limitation on it. But the constructor and editors managed to clue everything with "B" phrases *and* make the solving experience almost bump-free and natural-feeling. Good work there. But again, it was an idea that had no real merit in the first place. A self-imposed restriction. Why? That is the question.
Then there's the fill, which took this puzzle from innocuous and bland to somewhat painful. This grid is a crosswordese tutorial. They brought ALEUT out of retirement and everything. ERE ÉTÉ EER? Yes, all three! TOGAS and BAHTS, a PAS d'ETUDE. Was it ... AESOP with the AEROBE in the ARAL? It was! (I'm pretending the puzzle is a game of Clue now, just for self-amusement purposes). The grid just TEEMS with tired fill. Then there's the severely improbable ASHIEST and the borderline unbearable "BE ME" (a partial not even BUDDHA could love) (25D: Bieber's "That Should ___").
Occasionally, the "B" gimmick in the clues led to some solving difficulty. [Big name is D.C.] was a very vague way to come at KAMALA, and [Blind, to a duck] was an unexpected way to come at RUSE. But sometimes the "B" gimmick led to clever misdirection like [Brewer's implement] for BASEBALL BAT ("Oh, the Milwaukee Brewers!"), and sometimes it imparted interesting trivia (see [Bo tree meditator] for BUDDHA and [By the 1980s, this sea had become two lakes] for ARAL). Oh, and the "B" clues also function as vocabulary builders. Bondservant! Beldames! I can't believe I'm actually more interested in this dumb cluing conceit than I am in anything happening in the grid, but here we are! And here I go, off to coffee and cats and Quordle (also Wordle, but that doesn't alliterate). See you all next time.
RECYCLING CENT (50A: Penny going through the wash once again?)
AMEN, BROTH (56A: Soup served at the church social?)
BRAIN TEAS (77A: Afternoon gatherings of Mensa?) (ugh, Mensa, stop promoting that crap as shorthand for "intelligence")
CELLPHONE NUMB (85A: Having no feeling in one's texting hand?)
RELIEF PITCH (103A: Ad for heartburn medication?)
NO LAUGHING, MATT (15A: "Quit your snickering, Damon!"?)
Word of the Day: FENESTRA (93A: Small anatomical opening, as in a bone) —
n.pl.fe·nes·trae(-trē′)
1. AnatomyA smallanatomicalopening, as in a bone. [emph. mine] :( :( :(
2. An opening in a bonemade by surgicalfenestration.
3. Zoology A transparentspot or marking, as on thewing of a moth or butterfly.
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This was pretty gruesome. Felt like a throwback puzzle. Very 1990s. It's just ... a variation on the remove-a-letter theme. The oldest theme type in the book, and one to which we have not been subjected in what feels like (merciful) eons. Somehow manages to combine monotonous and predictable with difficult, as some of these theme phrases were weirdly hard to dredge up from the wacky "?" clues. the BROTH part of AMEN, BROTH(ER). The BRAIN part of BRAIN TEAS(ER). I kept getting stuck wondering what the hell the base phrase could be. And never, not once, did I feel rewarded or happy when I finally got the answer. "NO LAUGHING, MATT!" is probably the best of the lot, and if they'd all been that good ... maybe. But they weren't, not even close, so this one was just shrug after eye roll after shrug. Further, there is zero interest in the non-theme fill. In fact, there are hardly any non-theme answers longer than seven letters. There's just nothing to sink your teeth into, nothing to enjoy. And you absolutely blow one of your few longer answers on the rank obscurity FENESTRA!?!?! I just don't understand the mindset here.
I'm looking around for things to admire and just not finding very many. I guess the fill could've been worse. It's reasonably solid. But it's just fill. Space filler. Not weak, exactly, but not wowing anyone either. The only things I have to remark on today are trouble spots / wrong answers. Not sure I knew CALICO was a fabric (26A: Printed cotton fabric). I know it only as a cat (26A: Printed cotton fabric). Had to guess most of PHENOL (33D: Caustic compound). Wanted CRUSTY and (especially) CRABBY before CRANKY (60D: Irascible). Holy moly I could not get to the very very general REGION from the weirdly oddly specific 59D: Map section. I will never understand why the puzzle thinks everyone watches "GOT" or why anyone thinks it's better to clue BRAN as a "GOT" character than as the ordinary English word that it is. Ugh. ANONYM is [frowny face]. How is a DOG like a canary? I honestly don't know, and was totally baffled by that clue / answer (82D: Animal for which the Canary Islands are named). Here's wikipedia on the subject:
The name Islas Canarias is likely derived from the Latin name Canariae Insulae, meaning "Islands of the Dogs", a name that was evidently generalized from the ancient name of one of these islands, Canaria – presumably Gran Canaria. According to the historian Pliny the Elder, the island Canaria contained "vast multitudes of dogs of very large size".
I think that's all I have the energy for today. I wish the puzzle could find some happy medium between the wildly ambitious but kinda solver-hating Sunday puzzle of last week with the very clear but very dull puzzle of this week. All with a sprinkling of sparkle. That would be cool. Take care.
THEME: IN-"LET" — "LET" is added to familiar phrases, creating wacky phrases, clued "?"-style
Word of the Day: Sir Anthony EDEN (37A: Sir Anthony formerly of 10 Downing Street) —
Robert Anthony Eden, 1st Earl of Avon, KG, MC, PC (12 June 1897 – 14 January 1977) was a British Conservative politician, who was Prime Minister from 1955 to 1957. He was also Foreign Secretary for three periods between 1935 and 1955, including during the Second World War. // Eden's worldwide reputation as an opponent of appeasement, a 'Man of Peace', and a skilled diplomat was overshadowed in the second year of his premiership by his handling of the Suez Crisis of 1956, which critics across party lines regarded as an historic setback for British foreign policy, signalling the end of British predominance in the Middle East. [...] He is generally ranked among the least successful British Prime Ministers of the twentieth century, although two broadly sympathetic biographies (in 1986 and 2003) have gone some way to redressing the balance of opinion.
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Without a good theme-revealer, this one feels a little limp. Also, I got really distracted by PUPPET SHOW (17A: Entertainment you might have a hand in?), because it's got the "?"-cluing, length, and (I initially thought) placement of a theme answer. So I'm flying along, and I'm thinking "... PUPPET ... CUTLET ... ??? ..." Wasn't until I got to RAINSTORMS (58A: Nor'easters, often) that I was certain PUPPET had nothing to do with the theme. Until then, I thought maybe there was some letter string in there that had been added, and that I just needed to try harder to see the base phrase. Finished up the puzzle in the east, which was by far the hardest section for me to get into. Just couldn't see AGREE (35D: Share an opinion) or WAGE (40A: Carry on) or SHIRE (43A: English county) with the sparse crosses I had in there at first. Misread meaning of each clue (took "Share" to mean simply "give," took "Carry on" to mean "rant," and went looking for a specific "English county"). Oh, and STRETTO? Not coming easily either. But RINGLET TONES settled things down nicely in there. The musical sub-theme was almost too aggressive. We get it. You like classical music. PPP and RONDO let us know that ... but then STRETTO and ATONAL (64A: Keyless) come along to drive the point home.
Theme answers:
20A: Meat slice on the highest shelf? (A CUTLET ABOVE)
27A: Advertising sheet blowing in the wind? (LOOSE LEAFLET)
44A: Curly lock tints? (RINGLET TONES)
52A: Dribble from an icicle? (EAVE'S DROPLET)
I have no idea how the constructor's name was spelled in the paper, but in the AcrossLite version, it's misspelled. Or, rather, mis-uncapitalized. The first "E" in "MaryEllen" is supposed to be capitalized. Or so I'm told. In case you were wondering. Which you likely weren't. But there you are anyway.
Here's a rubber stamp I bought yesterday for ... what I hope are obvious reasons (sadly, I did not buy it at the "Irony Store"):
I've got relatives from NZ in town, so just a few bullets and then I'm done.
Bullets:
8D: Lily of Africa (ALOE) — First instinct: Lily is a person. Second instinct: SEGO (would have been a good guess if "Africa" had been "Utah").
28D: When doubled, a breath freshener (SEN) — good example of a former "Word Of the Day" (SEN-SEN) that stuck, and hard. I remember very clearly the Patrick Blindauer puzzle responsible for my learning about this bygone (it's bygone, right?) freshener.
56D: Driver's nonverbal "hello" (TOOT) — still not sure about the tone of "hello" here. Is it "hey, what's up, how's it going?" or "HellO! Get back in your own lane, you #&$^!"
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!")