THEME: "ARE YOU CHICKEN?" (55A: Question to a scaredy-cat ... to which the final parts of 20-, 32- and 42-Across would answer "Yes!") — chicken formats:
Theme answers:
LAS VEGAS STRIP (20A: Main drag through Sin City)
GOLD NUGGET (32A: Valuable bit in a prospector's pan)
GOALTENDER (42A: Hockey player who typically plays the entire game)
Word of the Day: SADIE Jones (9D: British novelist Jones) —
Sadie Jones (born 1967) is an English writer and novelist best known for her award-winning debut novel, The Outcast (2008). [...] The Outcast was short-listed for the 2008 Orange Prize. It was a Sunday Times Number 1 Bestseller and won the Best First Novel in the Costa Book Awards of 2008. It has been translated into twelve languages and sold more than 500,000 copies. [...] The Outcast is the debut novel by British author Sadie Jones, published in 2007 by Chatto & Windus. In 2008, it won the Costa Book Award for First Novel and was shortlisted for the 2008 Women's Prize for Fiction. In 2015, it was adapted for television.
• • •
Something about the question "ARE YOU CHICKEN?" just doesn't land right in my ears. I can hear someone accusing another person of being a chicken, complete with chicken sounds on the back end ("bwok bwok bwok bwok bwok!")? Maybe I can hear someone saying, "What's the matter? You chicken" That sounds rightish. But just "ARE YOU CHICKEN?" doesn't quite sound like a thing someone would ask. Not precisely. But what I love about the question is how perfect a thing it is to ask the crazy pressed-form food shapes in question. "ARE YOU CHICKEN? Because you do not look like chicken." Nugget, tender, strip, these are all processed abominations that make the chicken almost unrecognizable as such (tasty, but severely deformed). The "strip" is closest to chickenness, I think. I don't really know what the difference between a tender and a strip is, actually. A nugget, that I know. I used to eat them by the dozen (the 20-pack, actually) when I was in high school. Whatever happens between bird and nugget is completely disfiguring. Delicious, perhaps, but disfiguring. So much so that if you came from a part of the world with no strip / tender / nugget technology, you might in fact ask the fried bit of brownness in your hand, "ARE YOU CHICKEN?" So I like the revealer question, as a revealer phrase, even if it seems A TAD contrived as an actual human question.
Otherwise the grid is AWASH in short stuff (as often happens with 78-worders—the maximum allowable word count). Most of it is, like many molded and fried chicken products, merely bland, not particularly offensive. The one thing the grid has going for it is a sizable assortment of longer Down answers. They really give the grid some much-needed color today. You get six really solid 7+-letter answers. There's not a one I don't actively like. Solving Downs-only, I had a little "ooh, nice" moment when I figured out my first long Down, DIVVIED UP. There's something about the double-"V" of DIVVIED that is inherently appealing.
You can see how, from here, I was able to infer LAS VEGAS at the front end of the first themer. From that "G" I got GURU (21D: Sanskrit word for "teacher") and from the "A" I got SAGAS (5D: Long stories) and from the "S" I got ERASE (6D: Wipe clean), and while I didn't get STRIP immediately (though I probably should have), I only needed the "S" from the end of ACTS and the "R" from the gimme RUM (22D: "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of ___") to get STRIP eventually. Sadly, getting STRIP didn't help me with that NE corner, which remained incomplete until the very end. Despite using a CLIPBOARD on a regular basis (mostly for the puzzles I print out, esp. the cryptics I solve with my wife every cocktail hour (5pm)), I couldn't get it from the clue alone (10D: Portable writing surface). As for SADIE Jones, I've never heard of her. Really odd choice of clue for a Monday. From what I can tell, she is primarily known for one popular novel eighteen years ago. The Beatle's "Sexy SADIE" or SADIE Sink from Stranger Things are far more Mondayish SADIEs than this British novelist. But the puzzle's so easy overall that throwing in a less widely known SADIE like this doesn't really affect the overall solve much. I wish the clue had done more to tell us anything about her. Even her most famous title would've been helpful. Then I could at least say I learned something. But no matter. SADIE Jones is my Word of the Day, so technically I have learned something.
Bullets:
42D: Period before starting more school (GAP YEAR) — a solid 7. SHOTPUT too (8D: Track-and-field event with a 16-pound ball). It's always nice when there's a lot of longer non-thematic stuff and it's strong.
53D: Outdoor John? (DEERE) — because John DEERE makes farming equipment, which you use ... outdoors. Yeah, that must be it. My first thought for [Outdoor John?], which I still like best despite its making no sense: ELTON. He did do a few famous "outdoor" concerts.
[Central Park, 1980]
56D: Oceanic predator (ORCA) — the one bit of "crosswordese" that I never get tired of. Love ORCAs. More ORCAs. Any time I hear about ORCAs "attacking" yachts or other watercraft (as has happened many times off the coast of France and the Iberian Peninsula in recent years), I think "good for them." I mean, I hope no humans are hurt, but any time animals show utter disrespect for human property, I feel a certain respect. It's their world. And it's not like we've respected that world, exactly. So ... if they want to toss our luxury vessels around like a hackysack, so be it. I like this cetologist's measured, existential perspective on the boat destruction—the ORCAs aren't "attacking," they're merely "interacting" with the vessels as part of their educational "enrichment." Because the sea is "a very boring place":
THEME: "THERE'S NO 'I' IN TEAM" (63A: Coaching axiom suggested by 17-, 27- and 49-Across) — circled squares contain the names of baseball teams minus their "I"s:
Theme answers:
ELEGANT SOLUTION (17A: Ingenious fix (San Francisco))
GROUP RATES (27A: Hotel discounts for conventioneers (Pittsburgh))
CAMEO ROLES (49A: Brief appearances by A-listers in films (Baltimore))
Word of the Day: ROSETTA Stone (47D: ___ Stone (relic inscribed in three languages)) —
The Rosetta Stone is a stele of granodiorite inscribed with three versions of a decree issued in 196 BC during the Ptolemaic dynasty of Egypt, on behalf of King Ptolemy V Epiphanes. The top and middle texts are in Ancient Egyptian using hieroglyphic and Demotic scripts, respectively, while the bottom is in Ancient Greek. The decree has only minor differences across the three versions, making the Rosetta Stone key to deciphering the Egyptian scripts. [...] Three other fragmentary copies of the same decree were discovered later, and several similar Egyptian bilingual or trilingual inscriptions are now known, including three slightly earlier Ptolemaic decrees: the Decree of Alexandria in 243 BC, the Decree of Canopus in 238 BC, and the Memphis decree of Ptolemy IV, c. 218 BC. Though the Rosetta Stone is now known to not be unique, it was the essential key to the modern understanding of ancient Egyptian literature and civilisation. The term "Rosetta Stone" is now used to refer to the essential clue to a new field of knowledge. (wikipedia)
• • •
Today's puzzle is well-timed, in that there are only about 12 games left in baseball's regular season, which means the playoffs are right around the corner. It's not so well-timed for the G(I)ANTS, P(I)RATES, or OR(I)OLES, though, as none of those teams figure in the playoff picture right now.
The G(I)ANTS are only a game and a half back of the Mets for that final Wild Card spot in the N.L., though, so who knows? My Tigers have been sputtering since the All-Star Break. They're probably gonna win the Central, but they are certainly in danger of falling out of the top two division champions in the A.L. (both of which get first-round byes), as the Mariners are on a crazy tear right now. This puzzle had me thinking: is there a way to get "TGERS" into a theme answer like the ones we have today, where the "I"-less name is broken across two words in a two-word phrase? I think ... not. Unless there's a Gershwin brother I don't know about whose name ends with "T." Matt Gershwin? Is that somebody? (it is not). Anyway, I liked the execution of the theme today. It could've used something (anything!) baseball-related to tie it together, or at least, I don't know, give the flavor of the sport in question (there's not a baseball-specific reference in this puzzle), but the "NO I" bit is funny, and clever, and executed properly (i.e. the "hidden" word, i.e. the team name, touches both words of every theme answer—no stray words hanging out there, uninvolved). Nice, easy, cute puzzle. Maybe less so if you're not a baseball fan, maybe more so if you are.
There's no "I" in "TEAM," but there is one in EARVIN, whose name is making me laugh because somehow it's funny to me that there's only one sports reference in this baseball puzzle and it's a ... basketball reference (41D: Magic Johnson's real first name). Oh, no, wait, there's also golf! Twice! (36A: One of 18 on a golf course (HOLE)and12D: Alternative to an iron, in golf (WOOD)). I tried to spell Magic's first name ERVIN, but it turns out that not only is there an "I" in ERVIN, there's an "A" as well. That was one of the few (very) minor hiccups along the way today. I tried STOP before HALT (2D: "Not another step!") and ATOP before OVER (3D: Above), one right after the other, right up front, but after that, no trouble at all until the very end, where I had OIL PASTELS alongside ELI. Did not know ELI meant "high." Was considering ARI. Or maybe, I don't know, BEN? And as for OIL PASTELS ... I had no idea such a thing existed. I've heard of artists who work in oils, or who work in pastels, but I had no idea you could put those two words together. They live as separate mediums inside my head. I tried OIL PAINTS. Wouldn't reach. I considered OIL COLORS. Also not long enough. Glad I never thought of OIL PENCILS, or I might've tried that. Eventually PASTELS became undeniable, and since NOP- really had to be NOPE, the Hebrew name had to start with "E," and in three letters, the answer was all of a sudden crystal clear. The end.
Bullets:
66A: What each letter in Roy G. Biv represents (COLOR) — of the rainbow. Glad the puzzle is back to using real mnemonics and not whatever that crazy pseudo-Shakespearean mnemonic they tried to foist on us last week. Something about Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain ... I think?
48A: Way too uptight (ANAL) — never like seeing this answer. I used it once in a puzzle and I've always regretted it. Also, why "Way too uptight"?? First, judgy. Second, you can easily eliminate the first word of that clue. Hell, you can eliminate the second word while you're at it.
4D: Winged horse of Greek myth (PEGASUS) — cool fantastical creature, great answer. I loved Greek myths as a kid. Here's a picture of PEGASUS from my copy of D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths:
9D: ___ change (a measly amount) (CHUMP) — great answer, great clue. Colorful, colloquial, just fun to say.
That's all. See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
[Follow Rex Parker on BlueSky and Facebook and Letterboxd] ============================= ❤️ Support this blog ❤️:
Relative difficulty: Medium (I think ... I'm out of practice)
THEME: none
Word of the Day: UNDIE RUNS (55A: Events akin to streaks) —
An Undie Run is an event where a large number of people disrobe until they are only wearing underwear, and then run. The site of Undie Runs are typically college campuses, but they may occur on other sites such as streets. Undie Runs may be purely for entertainment, a form of protest, or as with the ASU Undie Run, fund-raising for charitable purposes. It is reported that the Guinness Book of World Records considers the Undie Run that took place on September 24, 2011, in Salt Lake City, Utah, United States to have had a record number of participants. There were 2,270 participants in that Undie Run, which was held to protest Utah's conservative laws.COED Magazine, a magazine in the United States marketed to college students, has reported that Undie Runs are the "number one university sanctioned event". (wikipedia)
• • •
[34A: Reassuring words when help is needed]
Hello. It is currently 1:50AM EDT and I have just (just!) arrived home from my weeklong extended-family vacation in Santa Barbara (SB -> DEN -> SYR, then 1hr 20min drive home). I have to be at the gym at 8:30AM, which means ... hell, I don't know what it means, mathematically, but I have to go to bed (very) soon, so this will be (very) brief, and I'll tell you all about my vacation tomorrow. Or never, who knows? I solved this puzzle on my phone (which I never do) in the car (which I really never do) so that I could start blogging as soon as I came in the door (after a few minutes of smushing my kitties). I don't know how people solve on their phones regularly. Not being a "digital (ha!) native," phone-solving does not come naturally to me. Too many fat-finger (fat-thumb) keyboard mistakes, too much fumbling with cursor placement, clue toggling, etc. It's a fine way to solve if you have no other way to solve and are not in a hurry. You can see here how long it took me (this is about twice my normal Friday time—though I didn't think it was any harder than average):
The puzzle seems fine, solid, mostly good, but there's only one answer that really stood out to me because ... well ... I had no idea what I was looking at, even after I had the answer completely filled in. That answer: UNDIE RUNS (55A: Events akin to streaks). The problem stems, in part, from the fact that I've literally never heard of these, but more so from the use of the word "streaks" in the clue. I think the clue means "streaking." Are instances of streaking called "streaks?" Streaking involves running naked, which is very very different from running in your underwear, for many many reasons, ranging from the legal to the practical. The noun "streak" to me means one of two things—an unbroken series of things (like your crossword streak) or a ... smear? Smudge? Marks left behind by ... something. So, first I thought the "unbroken series" form of "streak" was involved, and maybe there was some kind of video game frame of reference; like, if you are on a streak in a video game where you don't die, maybe you are on a "un-die run." That seemed so awful that I was then forced to move onto the "smear" meaning of "streaks," which was somehow much more awful. Why are there streaks in your undies? Please answer without using the word RUNS. Please. Pretty please? I had to look up the term after I was finished to realize it was just people running in their underwear. According to wikipedia, UNDIE RUNS are popular university events. If my university has hosted such events, I have been blissfully unaware. The fact that I haven't heard of them doesn't mean they're not real ... they already seem a lot more real to me than ECO-HOTELS (17A: Establishments with many green rooms) (presumably all the rooms in such an establishment are green?).
Besides UNDIE RUNS, there were no other tough spots, no other mysteries ... except for Iris CHANG, who wrote a couple of very well regarded books about Chinese history before dying very young in 2004. I struggled some with BENGAL CAT, which is a "hybrid" of ... what? (15D: Hybrid feline whose coat may feature rosettes). Hmm ... looks like Asian leopard cat (not a cat I knew existed) and domestic cats, primarily the Egyptian Mau (which I also didn't know existed). If it starts BENGAL and the next word isn't TIGER, I don't know it. But the CAT part was easy (why are they saying "feline" in the clue if not to avoid saying "CAT"?) and the rest was eventually inferable.
I need to go to sleep so off we go to the Lightning Round:
1A: Who wrote in an 1852 novel "Any mind that is capable of a real sorrow is capable of good" (STOWE) — as in Harriet Beecher, author of Uncle Tom's Cabin (the 1852 novel in question—a tremendously popular book).
6A: Stick around camp? (TENT POLE) — me: "Oh, I know, it's the ... thing ... you toast marshmallows with ... for S'mores?" Sadly no.
36A: Means of defense for an elephant (TUSK) — also apparently a means of defense for a Cape buffalo ... (OK, TUSKs aren't the same as "horns," but ... close enough for my purposes here):
43A: Their tracks diffract light into rainbows (CDS) — this was cute. I guess CDs (which contain music "tracks") do diffract light that way.
4D: Follow to the letter? (WRITE BACK) — the phrasing here feels a little forced, even for a "?" clue, but the idea is that someone writes you a "letter" and then you "follow" suit and WRITE BACK
7D: Freudian drive to survive (EROS) — huh. Did not know that. "Libido," that's a Freudian drive I know. Also ... "death drive," is that something? Yes! Two Freudian drives that I know. But EROS, missed that one.
23A: Way to the left? (WEST) — looks like a political clue ... but isn't. On a map, conventionally, "left" is WEST.
33D: Table tennis or beach volleyball (COED SPORTS) — neither of these seems definitively "co-ed" to me. The times I've seen these sports on TV, they've been single-sex. I know CO-ED versions exist, but ... they exist in regular tennis, too? Odd.
45D: Animal that's mostly white, helping it hide in its natural habitat (PANDA) — gonna go to sleep now and try not to think about what color PANDAs "mostly" are. I think I'd've said "black." Pictures are deceptive. Apparent black/white-ness really depends on the angle. But their heads and torsos are white, and that's a lot of surface area, so I'm inclined to believe the puzzle. OK, that's all, good night from me and this PANDA:
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
[Follow Rex Parker on BlueSky and Facebook] ============================= ❤️ Support this blog ❤️:
Constructor: Willa Angel Chen Miller and Matthew Stock
Relative difficulty: Medium to Medium-Challenging (very challenging up top, very easy down below)
THEME: none, for the most part — there's a little two-clue Beauty and the Beast "joke" in the middle of the grid, but I wouldn't call it a "theme"
Word of the Day: DAVE & Busters (56D: Half of a noted arcade pair) —
Dave & Buster's Entertainment, Inc. (stylized in all caps) is an American restaurant and entertainment business headquartered in Dallas. Each Dave & Buster's location has a full-service restaurant, full bar, and a video arcade; the latter of which is known as the "Million Dollar Midway". As of September 2023, the company currently has a total of 156 locations in the United States, with two in Puerto Rico and two in Canada. // In 1982, David "Dave" Corriveau (1951-2015) and James "Buster" Corley (1951-2023) opened the first Dave & Buster’s in Dallas. (wikipedia)
• • •
This wasn't for me. I don't know if it's a food hangover or what, but I could barely get started on this grid in the N/NW. The shape of that corner is such that there are no short crosses at the front ends of the longer answers, to help you get started, and the first short cross I found and tried was a name I'd never heard of (not the answer, not the two name parts in the clue, nothing) (4D: Ghanaian author ___ Kwei Armah). Yes, I should know more about world literature, but still, I won't be anywhere near alone in not knowing that name today. I went through all the short crosses up top and the only things I had, even semi-confidently, were TOMB and TWO (which I also thought might be VEE). I thought TEE UP might work at 11D: Begin a hole, but I also thought DRIVE seemed plausible; anyway, TEE OFF seemed like a much better answer for that clue than TEE UP. So I left it. And eventually I left that corner altogether—for the northeast, where I finally got some real traction with RNS, EAU, AMP. Once again, it's the names that were the main problem for me today; that, and what seemed like Saturday-level cluing all over the place. As for names, "NO TIME TO DIE" meant nothing to me except as some hackneyed phrase anyone might've used at any point in history for any crime- or adventure-related anything (17A: Bond theme song that won an Academy Award in 2022). AYI, no way, PATON I know as an author, not as an "Anti-apartheid activist," and then KINPIRA, LOL, that answer was just letters to me. First I've ever seen such a "dish" (43D: Sautéed-and-simmered Japanese dish).
There were other names I knew (-ish) but needed crosses to get to (speaking of CROSSES, yeesh, that clue (2D: XXX, in a way)—I'm not British, this isn't a British paper, so we don't call it "Noughts & CROSSES"—we call it "tic tac toe") (I suppose you could also argue that "X" represents "cross" in road signs, e.g. "Ped Xing"—either way, that clue was ???). I saw Beauty and the Beast once 30+ years ago, so LUMIÈRE eventually came back to me, but he wasn't an instant get. And I stared at -AVE for more than a second before running the alphabet, hitting "D" for DAVE, and recalling that yes, I had seen many ads for a place called DAVE & Busters that looked like the awfulest place on earth. A place designed to keep me out. Like a Chuck E. Cheese for grown-ups, which is to say, like some place in hell—one of the noisier, more chaotic rings ... maybe level three (gluttons) or four (hoarders/spenders)? Anyway, as I said, this puzzle was simply not for me. Over and over, just outside my frame of reference.
The proper nounification of the grid continues to run amok here, with a bunch of names, including at least a couple of names that didn't need to be names at all. When your grid is already choked with names, why that clue on ARM? (60A: "The ___ of the Starfish" (1965 sequel to "A Wrinkle in Time")). Why that clue on SERIAL? (48D: Hit podcast beginning in 2014). Either clue would be OK in a grid that wasn't already awash in names. The editor should have a greater sense of balance. The geographical names don't rankle nearly so much, since they seem equally available to all solvers. Not exclusionary. Anyway, the names (some of which I knew, more of which I didn't) distracted from some of the grid's finer points. The central Beauty and the Beast cross is cute, and those wide-open NW and SE corners are not bad, especially the Acrosses. And as hard as the top of this puzzle was for me, the bottom was easy. At times, very easy. Really uneven difficulty on the puzzle overall, with NW running like a Saturday, NE like a proper Friday, SE more like a Wednesday (KINPIRA notwithstanding), and SW like a Monday (done in seconds—never even saw the clues on ARM or RIA). In short, liked the Acrosses in the NW and SE, liked the Beauty and the Beast conceit, but didn't really groove on the much of the connective tissue, which I found sloggy, namey, oddly clued. The whole experience was less whoosh-whoosh than tromp-tromp-tromp.
Bullet points:
21A: Chemistry research centers? (NUCLEI) — I learned about the components of cells in Biology, not Chemistry, but the clue is still kind of cute. (Forgot there are two kinds of NUCLEI—cellular (which I was thinking of) and atomic (which the clue was referring to))
43D: Sautéed-and-simmered Japanese dish (KINPIRA) — I'm writing a note about this in the hopes that it helps me remember (this worked once with BIRYANI, which you can also spell BIRIYANI; see, I remembered that too!):
34A: Mystic associated with the Dead Sea Scrolls (ESSENE) — ancient answer that is also ancient crosswordese. All super-common letters. A real crutch. If you've never encountered the ESSENEs before, commit that name to memory, you'll see it again. Its convenient letters ensure that it will show up in grids, maybe not frequently, but forever and ever.
42A: They might be down for a ski trip (PARKAS) — A "down" pun clue. "Down" here = insulation provided by goose (or other waterfowl) feathers.
57A: Ones receiving free room and board, for short (RAS) — Resident Assistants. Student overseers of college dormitories.
9D: Bore (HAD) — think "___ children"
12D: One whose hard work is showing? (REALTOR) — They "show" properties.
25A: Light lager variety, casually (PILS) — short for "pilsner." I guess it's reasonably common among beer aficionados. Seems like a horrible cute-ified abbrev. to let loose on the grid, but someone debuted it in 2023 so now you're gonna see it forever.
39D: Piece of a children's book, perhaps (FLAP) — totally inscrutable to me. I was picturing illustrations, pop-up features, maybe tactile features like in Pat the Bunny, but FLAP, well, you got me there. I'm sure there are, in fact, FLAPs in children's books—you lift them, you find things, etc.—but that's not really a front-of-the-brain "piece of a children's book" for me.
31A: Mohawk culture (PUNK) — really thought this was going to have a Native American frame of reference, but then I live near Mohawk country. But the "Mohawk" in question here is the haircut, which is iconically associated with PUNK rock "culture."
Relative difficulty: Medium (maybe a little north of that, for me)
THEME: A MATTER OF DEGREE (54A: Not distinguished by large differences ... or an apt title for this puzzle?) — clues look like university degree abbreviations ([[degree letters] in [some field of study]?]); answers are items that have the same initials as the degree in question and have some relationship to the indicated field of study:
Theme answers:
BRAILLE ALPHABET (16A: B.A. in Communications?)
MICROSCOPE SLIDE (26A: M.S. in Biology?)
POCKET HARD DRIVE (42A: Ph.D. in Computing?)
Word of the Day: EPL (57D: Soccer org. for Chelsea and Manchester) —
The Premier League is a professional association footballleague in England and highest level of the English football league system. Contested by 20 clubs, it operates on a system of promotion and relegation with the English Football League (EFL). Seasons usually run from August to May, with each team playing 38 matches: two against each other team, one home and one away. Most games are played on weekend afternoons, with occasional weekday evening fixtures. [...] The Premier League is the most-watched sports league in the world, broadcast in 212 territories to 643 million homes, with a potential TV audience of 4.7 billion people. For the 2018–19 season, the average Premier League match attendance was 38,181, second to the German Bundesliga's 43,500, while aggregated attendance across all matches was the highest of any association football league at 14,508,981, and most stadium occupancies are near capacity.As of 2023, the Premier League is ranked first in the UEFA coefficient rankings based on performances in European competitions over the past five seasons, ahead of Spain's La Liga. The English top-flight has produced the second-highest number of European Cup / UEFA Champions League titles, with a record six English clubs having won fifteen European championships in total. (wikipedia)
• • •
Well, if you have an advanced degree in a STEM field, have I got a puzzle for you. Hard drives and MATH TEAMs and website DEVs who all probably went to UNI at YALE (in Crossworld, everyone goes to YALE—it's mandatory). The theme is pretty clever and works pretty well, but it wasn't really MEANT for me. I don't even know what a POCKET HARD DRIVE is. Now, I can guess. I'm guessing it's a hard drive ... that's portable. [looks it up] Yep, that's exactly what it is, though (according to my search returns) they seem to be typically marketed as just that: "portable hard drives." I'm sure it's a common term in some worlds. But not mine. So since the answer couldn't be POCKET PROTECTOR (which would've been right on the money, in '80s computer geek iconography), I had no idea. I even stared at POCKETHARD for a bit, wondering if I was parsing it wrong ("... pocké-thard?"). Eventually I inferred the DRIVE part (shouldn't have taken me that long). The DRIVE area—therefore—ended up being the hardest part of the puzzle for me. DRIVE wasn't there to help out (for a while), and none of the Downs coming off of SLIDE were computing either. I had DEDUCE for DERIVE in there for a bit (30D: Obtain through logic). I basically finished the rest of the puzzle and then backed up into that section via ADDRESS (41D: Speak to). Then the HARD DRIVE part became obvious, *then* I polished off that DEV / DERIVE section. I enjoyed the concept today, though ... a couple things. One, BRAILLE ALPHABET ended up seeming like something of an outlier, since MICROSCOPE SLIDEs and POCKET HARD DRIVEs seem like things directly associated with the fields of study in their clues, whereas the field of "Communications" has nothing to do with Braille. The word "Communications" there is taken much more broadly. It's a minor thing, but a noticeable thing. There was something less-than-snappy about the themers, including the revealer, but I can't argue with the basic logic of the thing. Themewise, I think this holds up reasonably well.
As for the fill, the puzzle opens with a high and tight fastball—a real keep-you-on-your-toes clue at 1A: Birth day party? (DOULA, i.e. a "party" (i.e. one of the people present) at a birth)— so I went in prepared for a fight, but it all played at a fairly normal Wednesday level for me (the hard drive fiasco notwithstanding). Felt a little name-y in places, but probably not any namier than your usual puzzle, and anyway, I mostly knew the names. Naomi OSAKA and DEB Haaland are practically crosswordese by now. I've never read (or seen) Life of Pi but I somehow knew PATEL (and anyway, PATEL is a very common surname—not hard to infer from a few crosses) (I'm wondering now whether DEV / PATEL wasn't originally a cross-referenced pair of clues). The only episode of How I Met Your Mother I ever saw was the one that Will Shortz was on, so TED schmed, but crosses took care of things there. Hey, speaking of Will Shortz, there's a fascinating (and very encouraging) interview with him in the October/November issue of Brain & Life, all about his stroke earlier this year and his current recovery process (thanks to reader Mike S. for sending it to me).
The only answer in the whole puzzle that really made me wince was EPL (57D: Soccer org. for Chelsea and Manchester United). I have watched Premier League soccer a bunch over the years (idly, because it was there ... I can get sucked into sports, even sports I know nothing about, really ridiculously quickly if you put them in front of my face ... ask me about literally every Olympics event I've ever watched; doesn't take long for me to get invested). Anyway, Premier League ... Premier League ... that is the term. That is the only thing I've ever heard it called. I got the "E" today and thought "European ... something something? I thought Chelsea and Man U were Premier League teams." And they are. EPL (apparently) stands for English Premier League. This is news to me. It's apparently also news to whoever wrote the (vast) wikipedia entry on the Premier League, since the abbreviation "EPL" appears not one time in the entire thing. EFL appears in the first paragraph, but EPL, nowhere. So I'm just gonna trust that EPL is common online, in headlines, on ESPN and other sports channels and sports sites, etc. (it is, I just went and looked). But yeesh. I don't understand going out of your way to debut that one. Is Crossworld improved by the addition of Yet Another 3-letter abbrev., one that isn't even in common parlance? You actually say NFL, NHL, NBA ... but do you really say EPL? No, you say "Premier League." One thing that's come out of all this is that I now know that EPL also stands for Employment Practices Liability, a type of insurance you get if you're a business interested in violating your employees' rights. When you get sued for wrongful termination, discrimination, or harassment, EPL is there for you—the business, the real victim.
Bullets:
10A: Pick up the tab (BUY) — had the "Y," wrote in PAY. D'oh!
47A: "___ Mubarak!" (greeting around Ramadan) (EID) — Like DEB Haaland, this one should be a gimme for you by now. Amazing that EID didn't appear in the puzzle until 2019 (!?). If you think it's a marginal holiday (or, god help you, "obscure"), tell that to the two billion Muslims currently inhabiting the planet. What's truly fascinating is that EID actually did appear in the puzzle a bunch, in the olden days (1957-89) ... just not in Muslim festival form. [Image: Comb. form]? [Oath: Ger.]?? [Canton in Norway]??? [Leif ___, former news commentator]!?! Man, the pre-Shortzian world was wild.
7D: Hissing tire's problem (LEAK) — saw that the answer was four letters, wrote in FLAT with no hesitation.
44D: Pot (REEFER) — "Man, someone's tokin' some REEFER..."
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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