New York Times: Getting A Little R And R
by Elizabeth C. Gorski, edited by Will Shortz

I understood what the gimmick was going to be just from the title, “Getting A Little R And R” — obviously, we’re adding two Rs to something to complete the theme answers. I’m a slow solver, so while my time of 43:15 is never going to win me any competitions, it seemed fairly steady for me. The long answers came in bits and pieces — I saw parts of them early (…FARCES, CROW…, PRETTY CRASH…), but needed more help in the crossings to finish them off.

It was 89A. A Simpson without access to his volume of the “Odyssey”? (HOME[R] AWAY FROM HOME[R]) that really opened things up for me. I was able to move fairly quickly both up and down from that long answer, and quickly found all but one of the other theme clues:

• 34A. Beautifully illustrated report of a computer failure? (P[R]ETTY C[R]ASH ACCOUNT)
• 61A. French director’s comment about his submission to a film festival? (I GAVE IT MY B[R]EST SHO[R]T) — I actually had I GAVE IT MY BEST SHOT in my head early on, but wasn’t sure where to put the extra Rs to make sense of it. I’m still not sure who Brest is — www.imdb.com tells me that Martin Brest (director of Gigli, Scent of a Woman and everyone’s favorite, Hot Dogs for Gauguin [starring Danny DeVito]) was born in the Bronx; Annette Brest’s only credit, Erotic Day Dream, went straight to video in 2000 (and her homeland is unknown); and the only directorial effort on the otherwise blank resume of Jurgen Brest is 1982’s Tollwut, about which I know nothing except that none of the characters seem to have first names.
• 106A. Former Tennessee senator’s Halloween costumes? (F[R]IST F[R]IGHTS)
• 15D. Opening remarks at a coffee makers’ convention? (D[R]IP INT[R]O) — This one took a bit. I had DRIP in place quickly, but couldn’t think of what phrase I was playing with. I needed to complete 33A. Bookcase lineup (SPINES), 41A. “It’ll ___ you” (COST) and 55A. Not badgering, say (SOFT ON) before I got it.
• 71D. Where a dope unloads a ship? (MO[R]ON PIE[R])

The first of the theme answers was the last one I solved — 23A. Broad comedies involving hogs?. I had FARCES in place, but couldn’t seem to think of what kind of “faces” were at play here. Also, while words like pig, boar, sty and swine were coming to mind, I couldn’t seem to complete the answer. It didn’t help much that I thought 20A. Kia sedan was ULTIMA (instead of OPTIMA), that 1A. Place for bluegrass had more to do with music than terrain (MEADOW) and while I’m a sports fan, I know nothing about hockey or 26A. N.H.L.’s Tikkanen (ESA). On the down side, I didn’t know what an EPOS was (2D. Narrative writing), and mixed up 4D. Cartoonist Browne (DIK) with the other oddly-spelled cartoonist I know, Bil Keane (of The Family Circus), and the most baffling mental block of the day, thinking somehow that 5D. Breakfast menu heading couldn’t possibly be OMELETS because OMELETS is an eight-letter word. (HINT: It is not.)

On a whim, I stuck OPTIMA in place, leading me to 1D. Be down (MOPE) and 6D. Brave words? (WAR CRY). I found my way around to MEADOW, and then racked my brain for other breakfast foods beginning with O — before finally rolling my eyes at myself and writing OMELETS in the perfect number of squares allowed. Finally, the eureka moment, and I saw that 23A was PO[R]KER FA[R]CES. Very cute. I had to guess-submit-reguess-resubmit a couple times before the S in EPOS/ESA, but completed the whole thing with no Googling.

Newsday: First Of All: They’re #1
by Fred Piscop, edited by Stanley Newman

This was my first Newsday puzzle, and it was very easy. The theme was quite clear from the title, First of All: They’re #1 — the long answers were:

• 23A. Home-state candidate (FAVORITE SON)
• 29A. One to hang out with (BEST FRIEND)
• 53A. John Roberts’ title (CHIEF JUSTICE) — Why, for a brief moment, did I think he was the Attorney General?
• 74A. Title shot hopeful (TOP CONTENDER) — I would have preferred a clue indicating a TOP BANANA, but it wouldn’t be long enough, and this puzzle didn’t have anything particularly cute or clever in it.
• 95A. Restaurant honcho (HEAD WAITER)
• 109A. Sort of star (LEADING LADY) — Here, I didn’t like “sort of” in the clue. A leading lady is a star, just not like stars in the sky. Maybe “Kind of star” or “Type of star” would have suited me more than “Sort of star.”
• 36D. Steady date (MAIN SQUEEZE)
• 41D. Trial VIP (STAR WITNESS) — Yes, “VIP” is more common as an acronym than as the words Very Important Person, but I still maintain that if you use an abbreviated form in a clue, you use it in the answer.

CrosSynergy: Sunday Challenge
by Patrick Jordan

This was my first CrosSynergy puzzle, and I’m not sure I liked it that much. No gimmick, no particularly pleasurable answers. 58A. Walter of “Funny Girl” (PIDGEON) was a hang-up for me (as far as the crossword world goes, wasn’t Omar Sharif the only actor in “Funny Girl”?), and I still don’t understand 53D. Leather-lunged (LOUD). The southwest was the challenge spot for me, combining these two question marks with 59D. Fed. Agcy. since 1949 (GSA – I had NSA in there for a while, which blocked me from finding the non-Sharif name) and 52A. Lesage hero (BLAS).

Los Angeles Times: Irish Eyes Are Smiling
by Donna S. Levin, edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

I think this was my first L.A. Times Sunday puzzle, though not my first overall. I don’t know that much about Ireland, so the title made me leery. In the end, I needed Across Lite to help me find a few answers. The theme answers in play (with the Irish-ism underlined) were:

• 23A. Irish weather forecast? (CLARE BLUE SKY)
• 33A. Irish comedian’s audience? (GAELS OF LAUGHTER) — I had various spellings of PEALS in place of GAELS for a while; I’m not sure I know what the standard English answer would be… does laughter come in gales?
• 50A. Section in an Irish guidebook? (KERRY-ON LUGGAGE)
• 69A. Rubik’s Irish toy? (DUBLIN CUBE) — Honestly, I don’t understand this one. Is a Rubik’s cube known as a “doubling” cube or something? The only doubling cube I’m aware of is the one in Backgammon.
• 73A. Ancient Irish kings’ enforcers? (TARA MUSCLE) — I don’t actually know what this means. I looked it up on Wikipedia, and I still don’t understand. Here’s what they said:

The title King of Tara represented a very old ideal of
sacred kingship in Ireland, imbued with mythical aura
stretching back deep into the long-forgotten past, even
from the perspective of its earliest historical holders.

• 93A. Irish course of study? (CORK CURRICULUM)
• 106A. Irishman’s home goods store? (PADDY O’ FURNITURE)
• 123A. Canine-friendly Irish area? (EIRE OF THE DOG)

I didn’t care for the theme’s execution. Four of these are word swaps where an Irish city is used in place of standard English: CLARE, KERRY, DUBLIN and CORK. The last one, EIRE, is technically Irish for Ireland, so it’s kind of related. GAELS refers to a clan of people, and TARA to some ancient hills. The worst of the bunch is, of course, PADDY O’ FURNITURE, which sounds like the punch line to a joke. I’d almost have preferred all the answers to be ___ O’___ (box o’crayons, bucket o’fish, etc.), which would be much more whimsical and fun.

Also, I don’t think that the relationship of the answer to the clue (in original standard English) is consistent. Obviously, “clear blue sky,” “core curriculum” or “carry-on luggage” makes sense as normal answers to their clues, but “tear a muscle” and “hair of the dog” have nothing to do with their clues. It seems the clues should either have led me to the Irish wordplay (e.g. Tara or Eire) or the original English terms, but not a mixture of the two.

Washington Post: Get-Togethers
by Robert A. Doll, edited by Fred Piscop

Maybe because I did this one last (of the five I tried), or maybe because I’m tired, or maybe because I just didn’t know anything — I had to cheat a lot on this one. Forty-two minutes doesn’t really take into account the vast number of squares I let Across Lite show me.

The theme made sense, but my brain decided not to know anything. Herewith, the theme answers:

• 23A. Butchers’ get-together? (MEAT SMOKERS)
• 28A. Physicists’ get-together? (ATOMIC BLASTS)
• 37A. Doctors’ get-together? (MEDICINE BALL) — I don’t know this term. Apparently it’s an exercise toy.
• 63A. Awful get-together? (BAD RECEPTION)
• 79A. Astronomers’ get-together? (METEOR SHOWER)
• 101A. Permissive get-together? (LIBERAL PARTY)
• 114A. Masons’ get-together? (CEMENT MIXER)
• 125A. Tennis players’ get-together? (LOVE AFFAIR)

Of course, this is all well and good if I know all the other clues… which I don’t. I got off to a horrible start, thinking that 1A. “See ya!” was CIAO, which led me to think that 1D. Pyramids, essentially was CONES and 2D. Really bothered was IRATE. (The correct choices would have been TATA, TOMBS and ATEAT, the last one of which I am completely confused by).

My other trouble spot was the southeast, where after looking up the definition of 109A. Cozen in the dictionary, I still had no idea what to put there. Also, the trusty internet failed me, when I turned to Google to find out what a “sniggler” was for 133A. Snigglers’ prey. The first answer Google provides is from the Urban Dictionary. And for anyone reading this who already knows what a sniggler actually is, you’re probably sure that the Urban Dictionary is not the place to go.

I had to use the “reveal” feature in Across Lite for way too many squares to feel at all settled by this puzzle. I’ll try better next week.

I’m working on expanding my daily puzzling from just the New York Times to others available online. I’ve used both Will Johnston’s Puzzle Pointers and Ephraim Vishniac’s very similar (and self-acclaimed rip-off) page.