I’m back again, after a few days away from puzzles. I’ve been swamped in work (temporarily relocated to Maine for five weeks), and haven’t had a chance to do much of anything outside of work. I’ve fallen off my game (what little game there ever was) by scoring a below-average time for Wednesday (15:16, when my average had been 9:17). Thursday proved similar, clocking in at 20:43, above my 18:40 Thursday average. Last week, I did Friday in 12:35, and felt very smarter. Today, not so smarter at all. (And also, the internet here is too slow to come up with cute pictures to go with this post…)
[NOTE: This post contains one R-rated word. To some, that word would not pass the standard crossword "Sunday Morning Breakfast" test, but I am not a fan of censorship, and I think words and words. If you are responsible for shielding someone from a single F-bomb... well, you've been warned.]
Now some comments on Richard Silvestri’s offering. Everything came together regularly, if not quickly, with the exception of the left section of the grid. The theme consisted of a fleet of six starred clues, each of which was defined by 38D. Sign (OMEN, or to describe the theme, O-MEN).
- 3D. Famed restauranteur : TOOTS SHOR — Famed, to whom? Not to me, that’s for sure. Apparently, he ran a restaurant in New York City. It closed in 1971, two years before I was born and 26 years before I moved to New York. He also died in 1977. Reading the Wikipedia page about his restaurant suggests that his famous clientele are all dead now, too. Except Yogi Berra, who is about 2,000 years old. I’m going to ask my mother about Toots Shor. Then we’ll see how famous he is. Otherwise, I vote that this clue be filed under Maleska-comma-Eugene.
- 24A. Numb3rs star : ROB MORROW – My only beef here is that I hate titles that swap numbers in for letters. I hated it when there was a movie called Se7en, I hated it when there was a musical called 3hree, and I hate it here. It’s a cute trick for the typography of the poster or the web graphic, but when you type it out in a normal font (or in a crossword puzzle), it just looks weird. Now, on the flip side, one of my favorite moments from a Tom Lehrer routine (on one of his albums; I never saw him live) was when he referenced someone named Henry, who he claimed spelled his name “H-E-N-3-R-Y… The ‘three’ was silent, of course.” Tom Lehrer was a genius. And if he’s not a dead former frequenter of Toots Shor’s backyard barbecue, then he’s still a genius.
- 51A. Harpers Ferry raider : JOHN BROWN — I don’t know this. I know that there is some poetry out there about John Brown. There’s a song, too. And I knew a few people actually named John Brown. I tried to check Wikipedia, but the font was too small (my fault) and the page was too boring (someone else’s fault). My knowledge of John Brown will remain nonexistent for the time being.
- 64A. “Newhart” actor : TOM POSTON — I knew this, at one point. I had since forgotten, and it took too many other letters (like, all but one) before I was able to recall the man’s name. Newhart was a brilliant show. And the title had no numbers in it.
- 36D. Co-star of “The Andy Griffith” show : DON KNOTTS – Not RON HOWARD, which also fit (and had two Os in it). Don Knotts was such a great icon of television culture. Strangely, my favorite Don Knotts moment is actually in a movie in which he does not make a live appearance. I don’t remember the movie (perhaps someone smarterer than I can tell me — Howard Barkin, Knower of All Things, do you know what movie this is?), but there’s some scene in which the camera begins on a close-up of a velvet painting of Don Knotts. We pan back, and recognize the scene as some sort of yard sale or flea market. Someone picks up the painting, and says, “I can’t believe it! It’s fuck-in’ Don Knotts!” The man and painting both exit the shot and are never seen again.
The rest of the fill required much guessing, and sadly, a little Google. Ryan is far superior to me in that he will fight, fight, fight until he solves the whole grid. I cannot do it. I am impatient, and I am quickly and easily dissatisfied. Dissatisfied with everything — myself, my smarterness, my inability to think of just about anything — and all this only gets compounded when I’m stuck in a puzzle. Suddenly, I am wracked with the feeling that I should never be allowed out of the house, because clearly I don’t know one single fact about anything, and I’m ready to pack up my college diploma and mail it back to the dean, and quit my job as a piano player because if I don’t know who in the hell Toots Shor was, I clearly have no business having a job in America, and while at one point I may have been considered to be a bright young kid (by my parents, perhaps, and occasionally by others who weren’t completely alienated by my obnoxious, self-aggrandizing attitude about everything), those days are long since past, and I am now a fizzled out light bulb of an almost mid-life adult… Sigh.
So the grid. I decided to be stubborn today, and declare with gusto that things I was guessing at were cold, hard facts. For example, I would have written in pen (if I was not on the applet) that 2D. Red, as Spanish wine, was ROJO. But I also knew for certain that 20A. “Socrate” composer was Erik SATIE. These answers could not co-exist. But even though I maybe had 10% security on either of them, I opted for the idea that there was a typo in the grid. I yelled at the screen.
Also, 1D. Priests’ garb was ARBS. I was sure. I have never heard of ARBS, mostly because it’s not a word. (Oops — update: ARBS is actually a word, according to http://www.xwordinfo.com. It’s been used in a Monday, a Wednesday, two Fridays and six Sundays over the past 15 years. It apparently means “Wall St. figures.” I still don’t understand.) And also, 13A. Spoils had to be referencing what remains after everything else is gone… as in what the victor gets after a battle. With the R in ARBS and the T in 4D. Perfect pitch (STRIKE — ha, a baseball answer disguised as a musical clue — this is both my specialties in one!), “spoils” was REST
Clearly not. (Actual answers: ALBS and LOOT.)
Now the left section of the grid that completely baffled me included 43A. Winston Churchill, e.g., which I decided with 11% certainty was TORY. But I had even more certainty that Gardermoen was in Germany (27D. Orly : Paris :: Gardermoen :: ___), and that the only city I knew in Germany with a four-letter name was either BERN or BONN. At this point, I have no idea if either of those is a city anywhere, and I’m convinced that Gardermoen must have relocated from Bern-Bonn to OSLO, its current location.
26A. Stumpers was self-descriptive. The answer, POSERS, does not sit right with me. The three meaning of “poser” in my head are 1. A person who sits for a portrait or photograph; 2. One who asks a question; and 3. Equivalent to dork, as in “you’re such a poser, Brian.” Merriam-Webster’s second definition is the same as my first one. Merriam-Webster goes on to tell me that I have no business looking anything up in the dictionary because I invent definitions for words and can’t solve a Thursday, thank you very much, go get more smarter.
Other clues that made no sense to me:
- 69A. Catfish Row denizen : BESS – As far as I can see, anyone is allowed to live at this imaginary place, Catfish Row, so the answer could also just as easily been anyone’s name in the entire world.
- 56D. Yclept : NAMED – “Yclept”? Seriously… Yclept?
- 26D. War ender : PACT – Okay, this makes sense, but I’ve finally got my head into thinking about suffixes when I see clues like this. My brain was tuned into war-TIME and war-HEAD and war-ZONE. Thank you for being a normal clue for once, and not warning me first! (Heh, war-NING works, too!)
- 32D. In the capacity of : QUA – I can’t even figure out how to use this clue in a sentence. You know, the trick where you say a sentence out loud that has the clue in it, and then try to imagine replacing the clue part of the sentence with another word. The only sentence I can come up with is this: “Really, Will Shortz, I have no idea what you mean when you say ‘in the capacity of.’”
- 8D. Region of Israel (var.) : NEGEB – Sure, because the “normal” spellings of Israel regions aren’t obscure and random enough. Let’s invent a new one.
I suppose that, with a brain full of music and work, I have no business trying to do anything like a Thursday. But I haven’t blogged in a few days, and Ryan is out of town for a bit, so I might be on my own over the weekend… I’ll see if I can take a few smarterer vitamins and get through anything in the next few days.
Also, for that small demographic of people who a) have read this far, and b) listen to our podcast, there may be a delay in getting Episode #12 out to the world. What with me in Maine and Ryan currently out in California… well, we haven’t solved this one yet.