Ryan and Brian Do Crosswords

Here it is. The long awaited first episode of our crossword podcast. In this episode we talk about the NYT crosswords from Mar. 24th to Mar. 30th, 2008.

I hope all this works. You should be able to subscribe to the feed here on the site and various podcasting sites including itunes. Or you can just play it right here.

 

 Episode #001 [29:59m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Let us know what you think.

[Update:  the podcast is up on itunes now.  Subscribe using that program or any rss reader using the buttons on the right side of the page.  Thanks.  And tell your friends.]

New York Times 3:52

New York Times
by Jeff Armstrong; edited by Will Shortz

No time for much of a post, as I’m editing our first podcast. It clocked in at just over an hour, and I’m trying to cut to about half that. Will you listen? Please? It’s funny. We think.

Monday’s puzzle was fine. Easy. I thought it was BASEBALL-themed, since that was the answer to 4D. *Diamond game (supporting Ryan’s theory that any crossword clue about diamonds is automatically about baseball… or golf, perhaps?); also 18A. *Sci-fi barrier (FORCEFIELD) contained “field” and 20A. *Newspaper article lead-in (DATELINE) had “line” in it… Baseball season begins this week, so it seemed to make sense.

Of course, it wasn’t baseball. 36A. Word that can precede each half of the answers to each of the eight starred clues was AIR, which while it exists at every baseball stadium I’ve visited, is not exclusively a baseball commodity.

Back to editing. No time for more posting. See you later.

Ok, back in NY. All seems well back in LA and hopefully that will continue to be the case. Pickles and I had a long day of travel so I’m condensing two puzzles into one entry so save a little time.

I really enjoyed Saturday’s puzzle. Not least of which because, except for help from the wife on one clue (6D. Grandmother of Jacob (SARAH)) I was able to complete the whole thing by self and without google. As usual with a Saturday offering, I perused the clues and didn’t know a single one. Then, from out of nowhere the answer to 31D. It’s heard on the Beatles’ “Rubber Soul” (SITAR) popped into my head. I admittedly don’t know much about the Beatles and I’m not entirely sure if Rubber Soul is a song or an album so it made it very odd indeed that I came up with the answer.

The big answer that got me going was:

• 15D. Cinematic captain of Star Command (BUZZLIGHTYEAR). I knew I had heard Star Command from somewhere. At first I thought it might be from that movie Galaxy Quest but I was just hearing Tim Allen in my head and my brain finally shifted over to Toy Story. Brian, Toni, Pickles and I watched this less than 2 weeks ago so that certainly helped.

I was able to get a number of answers off of good ol’ Buzz.

• 17A. Current (UPTODATE)
• 28A. Kind of rock (GLAM)
• 53A. Cab opener? (PEDI)

I made another huge guess with 30A. Son and successor of Seti I (RAMSESII). No clue where that came from either. I was able to squeeze SWEATINGBULLETS out of my brain and that set me up nicely for the top left. Great fill with PACECARS, STATELAW, and HARDTIME.

I was stuck on the bottom left for a while until I got:

• 59. Caped combatant (TOREADOR). I wanted some sort of superhero here. Then I had the DOR but MATADOR didn’t fit. CAVETT gave me the “T”, TOREADOR popped up and the rest of the corner fell pretty easily.

Favorite clue:

• 24D. Words said when one’s hand is shaky? (IMOUT). Love that. Before I knew the answer it could have been anything. Looking at it now it couldn’t be anything else.

Least favorite clue:

• 48A. Brand in the freezer section (BREYERS). Could have been DREYERS or BREYERS. I don’t like when I’ve figured something out only to find I haven’t figured it out enough. The down cross didn’t help: 48D. Rigel or Spica (BSTAR). Who am I, Carl Sagan over here?

All in all a very enjoyable Saturday puzzle.

I’m not going to spend too long on Sunday’s puzzle because it’s late and because I do not like anagrams. I am not good at them, they frustrate me and trying to anagram something makes me motion sick. I like the Sunday themes that you can use as a tool to help figure out the other clues. The anagram themes are more of an afterthought. “Hey look, here’s some stuff you can figure out after you’re done figuring out the puzzle, take some dramamine and go to town!”

Having said all that, it was a fine, if not spectacular, puzzle. I do love that AMADEUS is crossed with EATOUT. (Is that too dirty for this blog?) It’s also crossed with ESHARP.

I had trouble coming up with STRETTO for the simple fact I had never heard of it. And instead of EMMYS I had EIMHS. EIMHS stands for Easton Imperial Hockey Shirts. Have you gotten yours yet?

Allright, off to bed. Tomorrow, a podcast?

New York Times 20:44
Boston Globe 31:30
Philadelphia Inquirer 19:12

I have spent most of today working on crossword puzzle designs of my own, and I’m currently stuck in the lower right of my own grid, unable to find a 10-letter word to sit atop one of my 15-letter theme answers. I’ve taken breaks from this task to attack the Sunday dailies that are on their way to the internet.

New York Times: Mixed Feelings
by Paula Gamache; edited by Will Shortz

I had a similar reaction to that of JimH, which was that the gimmick to this puzzle only really became apparent after everything was finished. About halfway through solving, I recognized that the circled letters in each answer could be anagrammed into a “feeling.” Having solved the Boston Globe puzzle earlier in the day (although it is featured lower down in this blog), and having played too many games of Scrabulous on Facebook, I have anagramming permanently etched into my brain. Don’t get me wrong — I’m not that good at it. But I still think in scrambled letters sometimes.
The solving of this puzzle went very quickly, although I did get stuck in a couple spots — twice due to mis-typing (or, as I caught myself once, typing too quickly for the Firefox applet to understand), and twice due to incorrect letters. I haven’t timed myself on too many Sunday puzzles, but this one is my best (Sunday) time so far.

There were a handful of sports clues on here, which made me wonder for a moment if there was a tie-in to the baseball season getting underway. (Incidentally, I will be at Yankee Stadium for opening day. I’ll be the tall one brining my own turkey sandwich into the park.) 6D. Elite athlete is an ALL-STAR; 93A. Big shot after making a big shot, maybe: Abbr. is the MVP, even if a “big shot” refers (most likely) to basketball; of course 30A. Wearer of uniform #37, retired by both the Yankees and the Mets is the inimitable CASEY STENGEL (I would have survived that clue with either the #37 or the Yankees/Mets thing, but didn’t need both); 118A. Bats, balls, gloves, etc. would be SPORTS EQUIPMENT (and specifically baseball); and I even wondered if part of the compound answer for 50A. Some business attire (PIN-STRIPED SUIT) might refer to the Yankees’ home uniforms.

I had a little trouble at the bottom in the middle, as I put the complete incorrect answer of ROME in for 123A. Capital of Italy (this clue deserved a question mark, as the answer was EURO). Combine this with my inability to be aware of things I had never learned with regards to 113A. K.G.B. predecessor (O.G.P.U., as it turns out, which might as well mean Old Guys Poop Ugliness, for all I know), and a I had a lot of problems in this area.

Elsewhere on the grid, I didn’t even see a few clues until I was complete, having done enough consecutive downs to not need the across, or vice verse. Good puzzle, and I did it quickly, which made me feel more smarter.

Boston Globe: Car Wrecks
by Henry Hook

I enjoyed this puzzle until the end, when I was stuck at a crossing for which I simply didn’t know either answer, and had no choice but to guess and guess until Across Lite gave me the happy pen. The troublesome square was between 38A. Maffia of “Nip/Tuck” (ROMA, at left) and 39D. Brit’s raincoat (MAC). Having neither seen a single episode of “Nip/Tuck” nor worn a raincoat in England, I had no idea what went there… Lots of things looked possible: RONA/NAC, RODA/DAC, ROXA/XAC (sure, why not?)… Oh well.

The theme was enjoyable, even if some of the answers were unfamiliar to me. I actually remembered to check the puzzle’s title (”Car Wrecks”), and immediately discovered the game. Theme clues were listed in all capital letters and were awkward anagrams of car make and model names. The first one that jumped out was 13D. OAK IN STORE (KIA SORENTO). After that, I was able to first place in the manufacturer’s names of most cars, and then used the downs to find the models. The theme answers:

• 19A. CHEVROLET AVEO
• 23A. HYUNDAI SONATA
• 44A. LOTUS ELISE (never heard of this one, so it is pictured at right.)
• 53A. BUICK ENCLAVE
• 56A. TOYOTA SIENNA (I fought with this for a while; I was sure that 47D. Miso soup ingredient was SOY [not UDO], and couldn’t find a car make that put the Y in the fourth slot)
• 77D. HONDA PILOT
• 88A. FORD FREESTAR (for some reason, I insisted to myself that it was FORD FORESTER, which satisfied all the downs I had found up to that point — although it obviously didn’t satisfy all the available letters)
• 91A. NISSAN XTERRA (tricky, with “XTerra” not being a real word — nice try, Boston Globe!)
• 97A. MINI COOPER
• 121A. ISUZU ASCENDER
• 127A. CHRYSLER ASPEN

A few other clues held me up for a bit. 57D. Supplements, with “out” only looked like EKES because most any clue that is ___, with “out” is going to be EKES. Since I think of eking out something as just barely getting it, the implication is that there was none of “it” to begin with, so what exactly are we supplementing here? The crossing with 67A. Disordered left me stumped, as I didn’t know that definition of PIED.

Philadelphia Inquirer: Oh, It’s You Again
by Merl Reagle
I’m fairly new to the crossword scene, but I already like Merl Reagle’s puzzles (as well as his general dry wit, evident in both the 2008 ACPT and in the movie Wordplay). This one had a very simple theme, once I discovered it. Each long answer had the string OU twice. I’d love insight into the puzzle’s title, though — wouldn’t it make more sense to either include only the letter U or the word YOU twice in each answer? Why OU?

Nonetheless, it was a fun solve, and passed the time nicely between me placing my dinner order with Top China over the phone and the order finally arriving (which, as I type this, has not yet happened… Where are you, Top China?).

And now, you can stop holding your collective breath. Dinner is long since over, the wife and I have watched two movies, and I can finally present you with the answers to the theme clues:

• 18A. Dolby, DTS or Sony option (SURROUND SOUND)
• 22A. Mental bloc? (ENCOUNTER GROUP)
• 38A. Survival-skills organization (OUTWARD BOUND)
• 49A. Legendary Los Angeles nightspot (THE TROUBADOUR)
• 66A. Words of regret (COULDA, SHOULDA, WOULDA)
• 89A. Rural relative (COUNTRY COUSIN)
• 96A. Words of rejection in a famous Seinfeld episode (NO SOUP FOR YOU!)
• 119A. The Skipper’s plan, on paper (A THREE-HOUR TOUR) — On paper? On sheet music paper, maybe. “A three-hour tour” is known as lyrics from the theme song…
• 123A. Disappear intentionally (GO UNDERGROUND) — This was the cleverest of the answers in that the first OU pair was split up. Nicely done, Mr. Reagle.

And that will be all for the night…

New York Times 38:03 (shame level [for using help]: zero; it’s a Saturday, for crying out loud)

New York Times
by Mike Nothnagel, edited by Will Shortz

Why even bother to pretend I solved it in 38 minutes? No way. I solved it with help in 38 minutes. But no Google this time. Instead, I went to the glory of XWord Info, and when I felt mildly secure about an answer, I put it into the clue search to see if it had been used on March 29, 2008. I avoided looking at the final grid (for fear of seeing squares I hadn’t yet filled), but thought that this clue search thing would be a good way to check my work.

I got the top half of the grid fairly quickly, for the most part. Right away, I had 15A. Linebacker Brian banned from the 1987 Orange Bowl for steroid use (BOSWORTH), although I deleted it almost as fast when I thought that 9D. In ___ (briefly) was SHORT instead of A WORD. But once 11D, 12D and 13D (GRANDE, ATTEST and SHEETS) fell into place, I returnMr. Bosworth to his proper place, and managed to complete that area. Idiot level = low, and cheating level = non-existent (so far).

The top left was also fairly smooth sailing for me, and required no cheating (but much guessing). The first three down clues came easily: PACE CARS (1D), STATE LAW (2D) and HARD TIME (3D). At this point, I made my first guess on 34A. Very worried: SWEAT THE SMALL… Nope, that didn’t fit. SWEAT SMALL… Nope, that won’t work either. I wanted it to be SWEAT-something, but didn’t have much of an — WAIT! I’ve got it. And without any other crossings except the first three letters, I blazed forth with a bold and daring move, one that definitely left me very worried: SWEATING BULLETS

This proved to be a good move, and it opened up a lot of options in the lower right. Between having the start letters to the three big down clues at 36D, 37D and 38D, I also made some bold choices at the bottom there with 57A. Affix, in a way (ADHERE and ATTACH were my downfalls yesterday; I tried GLUE TO first, and later revised it to GLUE ON); with 60A. Amusement park vehicle (I really wanted it to be TEA CUP for some reason [I have pictured the Mad Hatter's Ride at left], and even tried SAUCER before wondering why I had ridden in a GO-KART as a child); and 62A. Tuner’s place (STEREO, which just didn’t seem the right match for me — I think of a “tuner” as either one who writes tunes, or [because I've read Variety too much, a musical], and “stereo” isn’t where either of those things reside).

By this point, I was able to complete the middle of the grid (15D. Cinematic captain of Star Command had me stumped for way too long because I was thinking Star Trek and not Toy Story [the answer is BUZZ LIGHTYEAR]; this is an inexcusable mistake in that my wife and I just completed a Pixar marathon last weekend, watching all of them [except Ratatouille, which we had both seen multiple times recently] on Ryan’s huge television), and was pleased that a number of my initial instincts were correct: WHIZ KID (23A), GLAM (28A — Sweet’s Brian Connolly pictured at right), BREYER’S (48A) among others.

Now maybe it was because I read Linda G.’s comment on my Friday post that gave me a mental block. More likely, it was that my idiot factor was kicking into high gear. I had some big problems with the lower left. Although I nailed 61A. Children’s Bargain Town, today (TOYS ‘R US), that was about it. I incorrectly went with CRUSADER for 59A. Caped combatant, which gave me enough correct letters (three, as it turned out) to believe it was the right answer. The U then led me to assume that 43D. Fighting words? ended with either GUY or BUY. And 51A. Point and click, e.g. made me think twice — ah, are they going after computer terminology, or perhaps camera terminology? I thought that thinking twice would be the smart choice, and that while computer terms seemed sensible, this was a Saturday — camera terms were more obscure. Clever me, I thought. I have since learned that thinking twice is one time too few, as a third time around would have led me to the more correct, more roundabout, and thus more Saturday-esque answer, VERBS. So it was after staring at this section for a while (”a while” = many minutes) that I checked CRUSADER with the XWord clue database to discover it was wrong. Out came the errant U. In went ARE TOO (42D) and BEES (52D). In went CAVETT (41D). Finally in went TOREADOR, in went ET CETERA (55A), and the rest of the grid fell into place.

All in all, I feel like I accomplished something. I’d love to be able to do a Saturday without any help, but that’s just not a reality. So until it is (maybe by 2038), I’ll settle for false times and the feeling that I am at least smarter than my cat. (HINT: My cat has been chasing her own shadow lately.)

I’m working on designing another crossword. My mother solved the first one, and apparently liked it. This next one is going to be very tricky at first, but once you break through it, everything will fall into place.

Still in LA.  Dad is still doing better.  Which is awesomely wonderful.

On the downside, I’m still on this awful computer with the mouse on the wrong side so this will be another brief entry.  We’re coming back to town Saturday night so this will probably be my last entry from the Left Coast.

I did pretty well on this one.  After about 15 minutes I had everything but the top left and a few boxes in the bottom left.  First clue I got was 18A. Setting for TV’s “Matlock” (ATLANTA).  Not sure how I knew that as I haven’t watched an episode of Matlock since I was in junior high.  Then answers just started to fall for me in a more or less clockwise direction.  I loved lots of the fill including SOFTPRETZEL, SWAPMEET, WATERBORNE, SOUTHPHILLY and QUONSETHUT (which I, unfortunately spelled with a “C” which screwed me later on).

For some reason ADHERE took me a long time.  And I put STGS instead of the correct STRS which gave me GOSALIA (not ROSALIA) as the patron saint of Palermo.

And, much like Brian, I had SPORTSGEAR and not the correct SPORTSWEAR standing between me and the “Thank you for playing” message.Alright, much better entries on a much better computer coming this weekend. 

New York Times 39:51 (idiot level: fairly low — two clues required help)
Los Angeles Times 27:50 (idiot level: low — one clue)

New York Times
by Barry C. Silk, edited by Will Shortz

Let me take a moment to acknowledge a few sites that have linked to us: Madness… Crossword and Otherwise and Crossword in Gothic have both help support our fledgling efforts. Thank you!

Today was a rough day. I had eight hours of auditions, which got rather tedious by mid-afternoon. At these auditions, people come in and sing a song or two. We’ve asked that if people want to sing two songs, that each one be no more than sixteen measures long. SIXTEEN. That’s a number, and if you count upwards by integers starting at one, it’s the sixteenth number. It’s amazing how many people say to me, “Well, this is about twenty or so. Close enough, right?” The truth is that sometimes it’s close enough, and sometimes when you say “it’s about twenty” and you mean “it’s more like forty” because the truth is that it’s actually fifty-three — come on. When we say “sixteen bars,” it’s not because we don’t like watching you perform. It’s because we’re not looking for a full performance, we’re looking for a simple representation of your talent.

And in much more serious news (although not life-shatteringly serious news), my wife jammed up her knee pretty bad today. She’s in rehearsal for a show (she’s a singer/actress), and was scheduled to fly out to Raleigh, NC on Monday. Now with a strained tendon (?), she’s on crutches for at least a week, and embarking on a combination of physical therapy and pain medication with the hopes that she’ll be able to get back into the show around mid-April. If you send good thoughts my way, forget about trying to vibe me toward solving Saturday’s puzzle (I may not even attempt it), and instead hope for my wife’s swift recovery.

Sigh.

Okay, enough ranting. The Friday puzzle was, in typical fashion, impossible. I read the entire list of across clues, and the first one I was able to enter correctly was the last one: 63A. Brandy holder (SNIFTER). Okay, truth be told, I entered a lot of other answers, too, but they all turned out to be wrong. But this last one somehow opened up my eyes to a bunch of the downs in the lower right, and before long, I had that whole quadrant filled. Being the sports fan that I am, I was pleased to see 28D. His #13 was retired in 2000 by the Miami Dolphins (MARINO) and 38D. Best substitute on the court (SIXTH MAN). I initially tried SPORTS GEAR for 31D. Gym shoes, e.g., and as it turned out, the errant G was the last square I needed to correct before my puzzle was complete. (SPORTS WEAR, of course, is the correct answer.) And on a side note, the “e.g.” did not flummox me as it has been known to do.

I had more trouble with both the lower left and the upper right, as I was combining shot-in-the-dark guesses with answers that had too many options. 11D. Its scores range from 120 to 180: Abbr. seemed like it could be MCAT or GMAT, as well as the correct LSAT. 57A. Six bells, nautically was clearly not going to make sense numerically, but was it THREE, SEVEN or EIGHT and was it A.M. or P.M.? (THREE P.M.) I don’t know where my brain found EPPIE as the answer to 48D. “Silas Marner” girl, since the truth is that I don’t know that I’ve ever heard of Silas Marner (or Eppie Marner, if that’s even her name). Also, no matter that it was right, I didn’t like WHELP as the answer to 47D. Whippersnapper, because the words were too similar to one another. And sadly, 13D. Major conclusion? (ETTE, which I did guess correctly) led me in the wrong direction for 53D. Major start? (apparently not DRUM, which is what I insisted was part of a cute pair — I should have known better, and gone with URSA from the start).

Back to the top right… I struggled with 14D. Coin on the Spanish Main (REAL) because while I had no idea what the Spanish Main was, I deduced it was going to be some random spelling of that four-letter R coin… REAL, RIAL, RIEL, RYAL RYEL, RYUH, RJEW, RAQT, RXCP, R&@!… And for some reason, I decided that 12D. Capital of Upper Austria was BENZ, not LINZ. This led to major confusion over everything else before I focused on 16A. A mouse may help you get there (WEBSITE, and I knew all the while what kind of mouse was in play here) and sorted everything else out from there.

But then I got to the left side, which had me lost. I got the top three rows (ACQUIRE, TOURNEY and T-MOBILE), and knew that 2D. Follows was going to be either COMES LATER or COMES AFTER (the first, as it were). 1D. Where it’s happening had me sitting at my desk saying aloud, “Where it’s happening… what is ‘it’? Where is ‘it’?” I figured out AT THE to start, but the rest eluded me. I also had a big mistake at 23D. Be glued (to), where I put ATTACH. This, of course, was the one clue I felt secure about. So I had the -TER at the end of 2D and the incorrect ATTACH at 23D. Oh, and I also started with SANE instead of SANO for 26D. Not loco, despite recognizing that I was not looking for an English word. This all led to a big goat rodeo of wrongness in the 32A/37A/40A/43A zone. And as all four of those clues were specific things in categories that will always stump me (Foreign airlines? Gases that aren’t INERT or NEON? Psychological problems? Four-lettered anythings?), there was little I could do except stare at it forever — or look it up.

Using our friends at XWord Info, I snuck a peek at 23D (ADHERE) and 1D (AT THE SCENE), which cleared the way for everything else. (Seriously — 3D. W.W. II shelter: QUONSET HUT? Wow.)

In related news, I have designed a puzzle. It’s my first effort, but I think it’s not too bad. Maybe I’ll post it here for people, and get some feedback on it…

Los Angeles Times
by Lee Glickstein, edited by Will Shortz

Not much time to write about it, but I got up too early this morning so I did the Los Angeles Times puzzle. Or, most of it. The theme was fun, and a trick often used in cryptic crosswords (which I like better than normal crosswords). 62A. Reverend honored in this puzzle — well, any regular solver of cryptics (if not of other puzzles, too) would know SPOONER. So then it was just a matter of recognizing the spoonerisms in the theme answers:

• 1A. Reverend turns game stick into neat church area? (COOL PEW) — I spent too long trying to make sense of either “bat” or “apse” as one half of the pre-spoonerized answer.
• 20A. Reverend turns utility pipe into service improvement? (MASS GAIN)
• 30A. Reverend turns wage issuer into Mother’s Day minister? (MAY PASTOR) — I’m not familiar with this term. And also, I found both “wage issuer” and it’s original term, “pay master” both rather obscure, even relative to this puzzle’s clues.
• 38A. Reverend turns fighter planes into proper chapel towers? (FIT SPIRES) — like with 1A, I focused too much on a wrong idea; in this case, it was something to do with “jet” something.
• 50A. Reverend turns quiet waters into a hymn setting? (PSALM KEY) — I liked this one a lot, although I’m not much for “key” as the right word for a musical setting. From a composer’s standpoint, I see “setting” as something more to do with style and arrangement, not the key signature.

I had a little trouble with the lower left, because I wanted DETENTE, not ENTENTE to be the answer to 59A. International alliance, even though I don’t know what either word means. And on the subject of words I don’t know, EGESTED was a new one at 61A. Expelled, and is also apparently new to this blog editor’s spell check.

The last clue that required some Across Lite help was 46A. Fortune (MINT). I had -IN-, but didn’t know 29D. Muslim judge (HAKIM – which is a word I sadly only know from the musical Oklahoma!) or 43D. Loud speaker (STENTOR – which is another word that my spell checker apparently doesn’t know either). Since every option I put into that crossing at STENTOR looked wrong, I never was able to find the proper answer at 46A. Thank you, Across Lite, for cleaning up my mess.

Now off to work…

New York Times 14:41 (I am no longer an idiot, at least, not today)

New York Times
by Joe Krozel, edited by Will Shortz

First of all, thank you Ellen Ripstein for linking to us on her blog. People know we’re here! I’m not just writing into the void!

I set myself a new personal low for a Thursday with this one in 14:41. Had this been a contest, I would have hastily finished in under fourteen minutes by not spending an extra minute on that last square (the crossing between 10A. Dumpsite pollutants, for short [PCBS] and 11D. Hard to take? [CAMERA SHY]). I kept thinking that down clue somehow was either one word, or a two word phrase with the second word ASHY. Or possibly -ASHY, and my 23A. Certain prayer starter was somehow something other than OUR.

I had also guessed in two other spots: 18A. Federally guaranteed security is apparently GINNIE MAE, and while I’ve previously encountered Fannie Mae and Sallie Mae, I did not know about the final member of the triumverate (and thus guessed at both the first I and the M). The other spot was the crossing between 30A. Arabian Peninsula port (ADEN) and 31D. Celebrated Sigmund Freud patient (DORA, pictured with her brother). Once again, I am stumped by a four-letter geographical place that isn’t within 50 miles of me. Also, I have never celebrated any psychiatric patients, and certainly not pseudonyms of such. Perhaps I can track down Ida “Dora” Bauer’s birthday and campaign for it to become a federal holiday. Then we all get the day off.

I liked that there were three baseball clues — Boston and Oakland started the regular season early this year with a pair of games in Tokyo this week. 25A. Diamond setting (BALL PARK), 40A. It’s often played before playing (ANTHEM, not specifically baseball, but in my brain, always) and 37D. Perfect-game pitcher Don (LARSEN, and I wholly disagree with the use of the hyphen in the clue; not only is the answer non-hyphenated, but the term “perfect game” is not hyphenated either). Of course, I’m in the midst of playing a hell of a lot of piano for some theater auditions this week (someone recently told me, “Crosswords? Pianist? You’re just like Jon Delfin!”), and “Anthem” is a popular tune for loud tenors. And I don’t particularly like it. So sadly, it’s also often played, and perhaps before playing… something better.

The theme of the puzzle was okay once I finished with 49D. Word defined by 20-, 36- and 51-Across, of course. It took a little time to complete that, in that I incorrectly chose RISKS as the answer to 63A. Skates on thin ice (should be DARES) and I managed to totally blank on everything else in the quadrant… Once it fell into place — CRANE — it was easy to see the three long answers:

• 20A. STRETCH ONE’S NECK
• 36A. NOVELIST STEPHEN
• 51A. LARGE WADING BIRD

But like yesterday’s inconsistent and mildly arbitrary answers to theme clues, I found these three an unsatisfying trio. The first one was good, an active definition of CRANE. The second one was not so much a definition as it was an example. Perhaps Stephen Crane can be defined as a novelist, but I don’t agree that “novelist Stephen” is defined as a Crane. And the third one, while true, just seemed rather bland. Maybe on the grid layout, I would have tolerated it more if 20A and 51A had their places swapped — let the first of the three be the most boring, and end with the more interesting.

It’s Thursday, and I’m in auditions all day today. I won’t be doing any of the other dailies, so off you go. And if you come in and sing for me today, don’t sing “Anthem.” Please.

[EDIT: End of the day, and I'm awaiting the Friday puzzle release. And in other news, someone sang "Anthem" today, and it annoyed the hello out of me.]

After coming oh-so-close to cracking the 10 minute mark last Wednesday I did today’s puzzle in a shocking 9:18.  Does this mean I’m getting better at these puzzles?  Or was this particular puzzle just very easy?  Or is there another, let’s call it a 3rd, element at play?  Is there some latent brilliance of mine that is just now coming to the fore with which I can crush mere Wednesday puzzles under my massive brain as if they were brittle, yet delectable, Fudge Stripe cookies from our good friends at Keebler?  Perhaps, perhaps not, but, perhaps.

The theme made no sense.  Well, the first one, GLENNFREYSEGGS sort of did.  The eggs belong to Glenn Frey and it’s also a pun on how he prepares them.  Ok, I don’t like it but I’ll let it pass.  But the other two.  PETERBOYLESSTEW and SAMCOOKESSTEAK are pretty weak.  When I think of cooking stew, boiling is not what comes to mind.  And, just reading the clue, 7A. Dinner specialty of an R&B singer?, Sam Cooke could have been making anything.  I guess steak was the easiest to fit into the grid.  Why was there nothing about meat or grilling in the clue?  It would have made it feel a little less random. 

Other than that, it was a good solid puzzle.  Nothing too interesting but it was enjoyable to solve.  I’m still out of town and on a strange computer so I’m keeping these entries short this week.  I should be back in town on Saturday so Brian and I are still planning on recording the first podcast this Sunday. 

New York Times 18:50 (I am still an idiot)

New York Times
by Michael Langwald, edited by Will Shortz

Really? Nineteen minutes? I should be working, and instead, I’m doing this stupid puzzle.

I didn’t like these trick answers. 20A. Breakfast specialty of a rock singer? Way too many options available. Way too vague. Same with 39A. Lunch specialty of an Emmy-winning actor? You know how many actors have won Emmy awards? And even when I get his first name, you know how many Peters there are out there? And the last one, 57A. Dinner specialty of an R&B singer? Yuck, yuck, yuck.

Okay, maybe I didn’t like them because I couldn’t get them at first. And that after completing the grid (incorrectly), my two errors were in 39A and 57A because I didn’t know what I was looking for. BLECH.

I’m beginning to think that I have absolutely no prayer of ever even seeing what the crossword elite looks like, let alone joining them. No, I will never join them. My mother can do a Saturday in pen in twenty minutes, and I can’t do a Saturday with cheating in three weeks.

The answers to the gimmicks are GLENN FREYS EGGS, PETER BOYLES STEW and SAM COOKES STEAK. I don’t like the answers because I think “boils” is not the right idea for stew, and I definitely think that “cooks” is way too vague for steak, and “steak” is way too vague for dinner. The first one is okay, but the others are wholly unsatisfying.

Yuck.

I will be out all day, so there will be no efforts for any of the other Wednesday puzzles available. Ryan thinks he’s coming back to New York this weekend (his father is doing much better, thank you), and we hope to do our first podcast on Sunday. The theme music may involve a crying baby.