Crossword City

We Are Now Crossword Nation!

2011-08-01T18:26:00.002-04:00

Come join the conga line at our new site. -Liz

An Ending and a New Beginning

2011-07-01T05:55:00.002-04:00

I've been away from the blog lately, for which I apologize! It's been busy around here. I recently started writing a new weekly puzzle for Crossword Nation, which has acquired this blog.

Thank you all for following and contributing to Crossword City during the last 1-1/2 years. I've thoroughly enjoyed the experience because it offered a new space to hear directly from you, the Solvers.

Tonight I'm moving to the new website where I'll continue to blog, post puzzles and explore the art of problem solving. Please click here to join me at my new home, Crossword Nation. Thank you, and see you shortly!

~ Liz Gorski

I came. I saw. I crowdsourced?

2011-06-22T13:26:00.002-04:00

I used CROWDSOURCE in a puzzle lately. What is it?

Wikipedia describes CROWDSOURCING thusly:

Crowdsourcing is the act of outsourcing tasks, traditionally performed by an employee or contractor, to an undefined, large group of people or community (a "crowd"), through an open call.

When this "coming soon" Pottermore promo appeared in an email this morning, I was struck J.K. Rowling's newest venture. It's lovely. I have no stake in Rowling's empire -- just a high admiration for writing books that children and adults want to read.

Check out the animated origami in this promo . . . the books literally come to life. Beautiful and totally enthralling.

(Did I just crowdsource?)

Naval Gazing on the Hudson

2011-05-25T14:23:00.033-04:00

While tending to the flowers on our rooftop garden this morning, I noticed a lot of ship activity on the Hudson River. I'd almost forgotten -- today is the start of Fleet Week. Ahoy!

You and I are totally on board with naval terminology. What's a crossword without a sneaky ALEE ("On the safe side?") or furtive AHOY ("Stern cry" or "Bridge call")?

I quickly snapped some photos to share (click to enlarge).

The parade of ships moves from Lower Manhattan, up the Hudson . . .

. . . north to the George Washington Bridge. Then they turn around and sail back downtown.

Ahoy, here comes the first one . . .

It's the USS New York, commissioned into service in 2009, and forged from tons of steel recovered from the wreckage of the World Trade Center.

The greenery is Riverside Park.

To my eye, the ship's color defines STEEL GRAY to a tee. I waved like crazy at the ship and crew -- whistling and clapping as it sailed by. No one noticed.

On the Upper West, there's nothing unusual about a waving, whistling, clapping crazy person on a rooftop.

I wanted to stay for the rest of the parade, but darn it . . . I'm expected downtown in a few hours.

To commemorate the holiday weekend, I've chosen this patriotic Leonard Bernstein recording for its remarkable crossword connection. Alfio Micci -- one of the best and most prolific New York Times puzzle constructors of the '70s, '80s and '90s -- was also a violinist with the NY Phil.

Somehow . . . between concerts, rehearsals, touring and raising a family -- Alfio managed to construct scores of crosswords for the New York Times, many of them Sundays. He crafted his puzzles by hand -- long before puzzlemaking software came along. When he started constructing, everything was done by hand. Hand-numbering the grids. Checking for symmetry (tricky). Typing up the clues. No internet. No Google. Man, the time it took to simply produce a puzzle really ate into your creative time.

Yet Alfio managed to write a collection of beautiful, literate puzzles. His crosswords reflected the class and grace with which he carried himself.

I'm in awe of the constructors who forged the way for the rest of us, doing the heavy lifting . . . and showing us that it can be done.

Alfio played in the 1st Violin section (outside left, in this clip). The camera doesn't pan towards Alfio's chair -- but I know he's there, playing Sousa at Bernstein's very brisk tempo. Good show, Alfio! Thank you for paving the way.

And a good Memorial Day Weekend to all.

Why Monday Crosswords HAVE To Be Easy

2011-05-16T12:22:00.007-04:00

.
Good morning. It's Monday.

Rosie the Riveting

2011-05-13T16:06:00.013-04:00

After reading Seabiscuit a few years ago, I came away feeling that the world of jockeys is about as alien to me as space aliens. It's a tough life. Constant travel. Sunburn. Weight issues -- a few extra pounds and your career is in jeopardy. Falling off your horse during a race, and being trampled by someone else's. Ouch. It's hard.

And so, when Rosie Napravnik rode Pants on Fire in last week's Kentucky Derby, I thought -- it's been a while since I've seen a woman jockey. Rosie didn't win, but she made the history books. Only six female jockeys have competed in the Derby. Rosie placed the highest (9th) of any woman jockey in Derby history.

It's refreshing to have a strong, fearless young athlete named ROSIE to add to the crossword lexicon. There have been other athletes: footballer/needlepoint fan Rosey Grier. (The spelling variation comes in handy when you want to construct a sneaky corner that involves a big guy who loves to do needlepoint.)

There's Rosie Casals, women's tennis pioneer of the '60s/'70s who pops up at celebrity golf tournaments every now and then. She was fearless too.

Then there's . . . Rosie Ruiz, who "won" the Boston Marathon, and later was stripped of her title. (You mean, it's not okay to ditch the course and take the subway to the finished line?) No. Please, no.

A new Rosie is here! May young Rosie Napravnik have a long, historic and successful career. Good show!

Get Your Crosswords LA puzzles today!

2011-05-03T13:36:00.008-04:00

Good Tuesday! If ever there's a win/win for crossword fans, this is it. Many of us couldn't attend the Crosswords LA tournament on Sunday. Not to worry -- now the puzzles are available to you. With just a few clicks of the mouse, you get:

Five custom-made puzzles tournament puzzles

And three bonus puzzles . . .

And the instant karma of supporting a great charity. Proceeds go to Reading to Kids.

All this is yours for a single five dollar bill!

I'm enthralled by the synergy. President Lincoln, a voracious reader himself, would love to be connected with a charity like Reading for Kids.

Ordering is super-easy: Please visit Alex Boisvert's cool website for the PayPal link. Enjoy!

Crosswords LA Tournament, Sunday May 1

2011-04-30T12:36:00.009-04:00

William and Kate are all smiles because the wedding weekend schedule (pronounced shedjool) is going according to plan:

1. Fri., April 29: Get married in London
2. Sat., April 30: Hop on a plane to Los Angeles
3. Sun., May 1: Attend the Crosswords LA tournament at Loyola Marymount University

If you're in the L.A. area, or have access to a royal jet, please join a great group of puzzlers at tomorrow's Crosswords L.A. Tournament. Elissa Grossman (tourney director) outdazzles herself each year, and tomorrow's event promises to be fantastic. Elissa says:

Walk-ins welcome! Registration opens at 10. Welcome remarks at 10:45. Then puzzles ... and word games and prizes and food and nice people

I'm honored to have been asked to write one of the tournament puzzles. (Mega-bonus: all the puzzles are custom-made for this event!)

So wish I could hop on a royal jet from NYC and join in the fun. But I'll wear my Crosswords LA Tournament t-shirt tomorrow, in celebration of the royal tournament weekend. Happy puzzling to all!

(You lucky tourney folks! Let me know how it all went down . . . please leave comments re tournament results, etc. !)

Pet Peeves

2011-04-28T16:20:00.013-04:00

The editors of the Journal of Animal Ethics would like us to stop referring to pets as pets, beasts or critters. What does this mean for crossword cluing?

I've always loved the word CRITTER, and its use in puzzle cluing has been with the best intentions. Solvers don't seem to mind -- I don't recall anyone objecting to KOALA clued as "Cuddly-looking critter." "Critter" is a term of endearment.

The authors ask that, instead of "pet" and "owner," we should say: "companion animal" and "human carer." As a "human carer" to cats and dogs for most of my life, this is a case where actions speak louder than words. Let's treat our animals with compassion and respect . . . period.

Quincy the cat doesn't seem to mind being called a critter or a pet. When I yell at him for destroying the furniture with his fully-clawed paws, am I hurting his self-esteem? Like most members of my "human" family, he doesn't seem to care what I think. (He's seen the novelty sign at the local pet store: Dogs have owners and cats have staff.)

* * * * *

All this pet talk has kindled some nostalgia about my favorite dogs. Remember Riley, the therapy/rescue dog who worked at Ground Zero during the months after 9/11? What a great dog. Riley captured the hearts of the women and men he worked with.

My Hero: Maura B. Jacobson -- New York Magazine's Gem

2011-04-25T14:20:00.015-04:00

Everyone remembers the first time. The first time. It was amazing. Sparks flew. The earth shook and then, a warm afterglow. A cigarette, a sip of champagne. I was in love . . . and could hardly wait to solve my next New York Magazine crossword.

The first puzzle I ever solved -- from beginning to end, with no aids -- was a Maura Jacobson puzzle in New York Magazine. Huge accomplishment for me, as I could barely make a dent in The New York Times puzzles of the early '90s.

Maura's extensive puzzle-ography has had a profound effect on my confidence as a solver . . . and later, as an aspiring puzzle writer. Seeing a woman's byline over that big New York puzzle each week made all the difference. Maybe I could make a puzzle some day. And if Maura B. Jacobson uses a byline with a middle initial . . . so will I.

After 30 years of punning, trickery and puzzle-icious entertainment, Maura has stepped down as New York magazine's crossword editor/contributor. Cathy Allis, whose wildly imaginative puzzles also inspired me to construct, will take over for Maura. Cathy is the perfect successor. Kudos to New York magazine for choosing excellent women to write the weekly crossword.

Years ago I tucked this New York puzzle (above) in my "favorites" file. It made me smile. It's called "Love Among the Insects" -- one of Maura's punning masterworks of 2002. I rarely keep puzzles, but this one was too beautiful to let go. A professional, elegant job from A to Z, as is Maura's tradition.

At the time, I drew a star on the finished puzzle (highest rating), and wrote "Feminine" on the grid. That's funny . . . I don't remember why I wrote that. Perhaps to appreciate a puzzle with a woman's touch. And yet, her puzzles appeal to men and women. That's the mark of a real pro -- Maura includes something for every solver to enjoy. (The crossword teapot next to Maura's puzzle is a beautiful gift from Nancy Shack.)

Thank you, Maura, for constructing puzzles to the beat of your own drum.

P. S. My favorite clue in "Love Among the Insects" is a little one, 112-Down . . . so clever, so elegant, so Maura:

Runaway insect? FLEA

The Hungarian Pastry Shop -- A Crossword Solver's Haven Turns 50 Today

2011-04-20T14:01:00.033-04:00

Two score and ten years ago, The Hungarian Pastry Shop served its first flaky, buttery and delicious pastry. Since then, it's been the go-to place for Morningside Heights regulars, Columbia University students and visitors from all over the world.

I have a special affinity with this wonderful cafe. It is a haven for crossword puzzle solvers. The cerebral, highly-caffeinated, amply-sugared atmosphere provides perfect biospheric conditions for puzzle solving. What if you can't remember that four-letter Swiss river? Order a café au lait and chocolate croissant and let your mind wander. Aare we making progress now . . . ?

The Shop is a crossword puzzlemaker's dream come true. On any day of the week, and especially Sunday, you'll see puzzles being solved (and maybe saved and framed) by the lovely and loyal customers of The Hungarian Pastry Shop.

Like many Columbia students, I first discovered HPS as a Barnard freshman. They had me at: freshly-baked croissants right out of the oven -- an aroma that keeps you coming back to the mother ship. The warm, homey atmosphere of this independent coffee house continues to attract new Columbia enrollees, Manhattan School of Music students, post-docs and neighborhood regulars.

If you're in the Columbia University area today (Amsterdam Avenue and 111th Street), please drop by for some great coffee, a luscious home-made pastry . . . and a Free Special Birthday Crossword puzzle made by yours truly.

Birthday balloons welcomed customers this morning . . .

It's early morning and the shop is already abuzz with customers and puzzle solvers . . .

HPS owner Peter (left) and son Philip create the magic . . .

Russian Coffee, Hungarian Coffee, Viennese Coffee . . . the famous Classical Column Menu explains all.

The average age of an HPS fan is . . . young.

Say "Cheese Danish!"

Happy Birthday to our Dear Friends at the HPS in Morningside Heights. Here's to fifty more years!

If you've visited the Shop, what's your favorite memory?

*****

A Smashing Definition of CUTE (and a way to make anyone say "Awwwwwwwww . . . ")

2011-04-09T13:34:00.001-04:00

Source: ohhelloamy.tumblr.com via Amy on Pinterest

Lucas Amory -- a Puzzlemaker's Best Friend

2011-04-03T15:50:00.036-04:00

When eight-year-old Lucas Amory performed Aram Khachaturian's Bitter Biddies Battle in recital a few months ago, I was moved to tears because: 1) He played the piano piece from memory, with extraordinary musicality; and 2) He established a new, youthful baseline for crossword solvers familiar with ARAM (clued as "Composer Khachaturian"). I wept with gratitude. Thank you, Lucas!

A few months ago, Lucas made headlines when he responded to Anthony Tommasini's list of Ten Top Classical Composers. In a letter to The New York Times, Lucas offered his list of Top Ten Composers.

Lucas's list would make a great puzzle theme, and a fine opportunity to keep ARAM in circulation. Big stuff here -- only a Sunday-sized grid would do.

Here's Lucas's Top Ten List: Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn, Schubert, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Schumann and Liszt. I constructed the preliminary grid like so, using surnames and full names in combos that allow for symmetry:

As the grid started to populate, HAYDN had to be shoehorned in, er . . . balanced with something classical music-related, like, er, SMILE (as shown in the final grid). It's right next to SITAR, a crossword-y instrument, for sure. What's a puzzle without a sitar, lute or tabla? Besides, Haydn's Surprise Sitar Symphony is one of my Top 10 favorite pieces of the Classical Era.

This are starting to get complex. Hmm . . . I fiddled with the construction for quite a while. In his YouTube interview, Lucas said that he wants to be an architect. Aha! ARCHITECT perfectly balances BEETHOVEN. That particular symmetry made me smile. (Lucas, did you know that Frank Lloyd Wright considered Beethoven a great architect? See Ken Burns' Frank Lloyd Wright documentary. True story!)

Now, ARAM was added, with a corresponding entry -- LEAH, the crossword perennial, was a perfect fit. :)

Now, the grand finale: I needed a 10-letter entry in the southeast of the grid to balance FRANZ LISZT. The crossword gods grinned as LUCAS AMORY floated ever so transcendentally into the "signature" area of the grid.

With the theme anchored in place, it was time to construct the fill . . .

. . . and there it is! It's especially appropriate to see JS BACH cross LUCAS AMORY, as Lucas performs a Bach fugue at the end of this video interview. Bravo, Lucas, on a job well done!

*****

Joanna S. Rose and The 651 Quilts

2011-03-31T13:10:00.027-04:00

Imagine Stonehenge, Frank Lloyd Wright's Guggenheim spiral and an Alexander Calder mobile all rolled into one . . . then QUILT-IFY that image by 651 red-and-white quilts.

That was the effect of The Joanna S. Rose Quilt Exhibit at The Armory this week. My photos don't do justice to this extraordinary display, but I wanted to share some favorite pieces.

To this observer, there's a direct connection between quiltmaking and puzzlemaking. Quilting, like crosswords, is an art based on a rock-solid architecture of math and symmetry. Once the math is satisfied, you're free to make art. Or maybe, the math is the art. Whatever . . . you're the judge.

The display was dazzling and I walked home inspired, humbled and full of new puzzle ideas.

Quilts suspended from the ceiling in a spiral formation

A simple rickrack design at eye level

Flowers, pinwheels, eight-pointed stars

The power of the repeated pattern

Closeup of hand-stitched artistry

Stripes, airplanes, triangles, quaker patterns . . .

Geometry

My favorite quilt: Optical illusion with lush corner details

~ ~ ~

Mass Hissteria

2011-03-28T18:15:00.002-04:00

Calling all puzzle constructors in the Bronx:

An Egyptian cobra (ASP) is on the loose . . . and heading home (to the nearest crossword grid). She's homesick. Totally understandable. Why live in a Reptile House when you can be 1-Across?

I don't think the snake has a name . . . I shall call her Asperanza. Isn't she lovely?

Taylor The Activist

2011-03-24T20:02:00.019-04:00

Elizabeth Taylor did for seven husbands what Henry VIII did for his six wives. She made them famous and crossword-ready. She was decidedly nicer than the testy Henry; she divorced her spouses without beheading anyone along the way.

I'm personally grateful to Miss Taylor for husband No. 8 -- Larry Fortensky, who once provided symmetric support for me to construct a puzzle with a "SKY" team theme. PADDY CHAYEFSKY, IGOR STRAVINSKY and VASLAV NIJINSKY. The crossword is that unique place where Vaslav, Paddy, Igor and Larry hang out and have a beer on common ground.

The great Elizabeth Taylor, like Paul Newman, used her celebrity to advance mega-philanthropic work. She, through amFAR. And he, through Newman's Own.

Two class acts, now gone.

But they live on, ever young and beautiful, in Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.

. . . and a tribute to Miss Taylor.

Hanami

2011-03-17T21:25:00.004-04:00

Soon it will be cherry blossom time at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. After a harsh winter, one dreams of that warm Sunday afternoon at the Garden, looking at the cherry blossoms in full, riotous bloom.

The simple act of looking at flowers. In Japan, it's called Hanami. I wonder when the people of Japan will enjoy hanami again?

Given the horrific news that's coming out of Japan by the hour, it's hard to imagine what comes next. Perhaps we need to hold on to single moments of beauty in order to endure life's tragedies. But I'm not sure how one recovers from something like this.

Some ways to help, locally or internationally: Local or international (Red Cross).

He's Got Rhythm

2011-03-07T14:53:00.004-05:00

Orchestral musicians and concertgoers will recognize the movements herein. Three-year-old Jonathan has jaw-dropping conducting skills. His favorite conductor is Herbert VON Karajan. Jonathan will have no trouble with a crossword clue like: "Maestro Herbert ___ Karajan".

Beethoven's 5th Symphony, Last movement. The Finale had me cheering and crying. Bravo, Maestro Jonathan!

Thank you, Nanpilla, for this video . . .

Firth Love and Fantasy Oscars Host Pick

2011-03-01T14:58:00.020-05:00

An odd moment at the Oscars: Hearing that Anne Hathaway's co-host, James Franco, is responsible for carpooling moms being late for their pick-up duties. Supposedly they're glued to the TV, watching Franco on General Hospital, and losing all track of time.

This was scripted writing for the new, young hip Oscars? Women addicted to soap operas, and forgetting to pick up the kids . . . it sounds more like a 1960s suburban cliche, pre-Betty Friedan and her 1963 book, The Feminine Mystique.

The best moment at the Oscars: Colin Firth's acceptance speech. Intelligent, self-deprecating, humble. He spoke in full sentences. (Much appreciated!) I've loved him since the '90s, as Mr. Darcy in Pride & Prejudice. He hasn't changed much since those days. Still gorgeous and engaging.

Best Ocsar-Winning Crossword Name:

Iain Canning -- producer of The King's Speech.

I'd like to thank the Academy for recognizing the cruciverbal importance of a person named IAIN.

Recommendation for next year's Ocsars host: Co-hosting is ineffective and scattered. To the producers who will never read this -- choose one host: an Oscar-winning actress who is musically-trained and fluent in German. She's taken on dramatic roles (Crash), perfectly-timed comedies (Miss Congeniality) and a convincing mixture of both (starring opposite Viggo Mortensen in 28 Days). She's a philanthropist. She appeals to both men and women.

She is . . . Sandra Bullock.

So how's her work ethic? No need to worry about Sandra being late for rehearsal due to soap opera addiction. There's no time for such diversions; Sandra Bullock is busy managing her own production company (Fortis Films), making films and taking care of business.

Next year, the Academy Awards muck-a-mucks might try some of that Bullock Mystique: choose this intelligent, funny, Oscar-winning businesswoman and actress to host the show on her own.

A celebration of a woman's enduring talent and power -- now, that's a young-and-hip Oscar Night message.

Ladies of the Bass

2011-02-22T21:11:00.003-05:00

Enraged Justin Bieber fans will never read this, so I can write freely without safety concerns.

But, if Bieber fans -- particularly the twitter-mob that attacked Esperanza Spalding for having the temerity to win the Best New Artist Grammy -- are reading this (and I know they aren't), may I clarify some confusion about the instrument involved? Esperanza doesn't play a "big violin." Nor is she a "freak" for choosing to play the "big violin."

Women have been playing the "big violin" -- aka the bass -- for years. Orin O'Brien, a bassist with the New York Philharmonic since the '60s, is tops in the field of classical music. Tal Wilkenfeld, an amazing young guitarist, performs with Jeff Beck. Suzi Quatro is a huge talent.

And very nice crossword-y names, thank you very much: ORIN, TAL and SUZI.

Esperanza Spalding has taken bass playing and performance to a new and exciting level. Totally deserving of the Best New Artist Grammy. To the Bieber fans who aren't reading this -- Justin wasn't robbed from the Petri Dish. Spalding won, fair and square.

A YouTube comment sums it up:

Esperanza Spalding,

Thank you for winning the Grammy.

Signed: The Human Race.

Final Jeopardy -- Fantasy Round

2011-02-17T13:09:00.009-05:00

Congratulations to Watson on winning the Jeopardy! IBM Challenge. I liked Watson's voice, wagering skills and the occasional charming/wacky answer. Truly impressive.

When Alex Trebek announced "19th Century Novelists" as the Final Jeopardy category, I thought I knew what was up. Shucks, I was wrong.

I thought the Final Jeopardy! finale, with Watson revealing the last response of the challenge, would end with a lightning bolt:

Final Jeopardy! Category: 19th Century Novels

Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote the preface for this 1818 novel, published anonymously by a 21-year-old author

(Highlight below for answer)

What is "Frankenstein?"

It's Elementary, My Dear Watson

2011-02-16T12:55:00.013-05:00

Though I love the game, Jeopardy! hasn't been on my radar for ages.

I TIVOed yesterday's game to catch a glimpse of Brad Rutter (I've had a game show crush on him for years!) compete against Ken Jennings and Watson the IBM computer.

Cons: Watson had an unfair built-in "buzzing-in" advantage, which is key to winning Jeopardy (provided you have the correct answer.) I don't feel bad for Ken or Brad, who (though no fault of their own) got creamed by Watson last night, simply because of the buzz-in advantage. It's hardly an even playing field. Watson was born on steroids.

Pros: A "Man v. Computer" event sets the stage for new medical research and a few new crossword clues for IBM and WATSON.

There's no doubt Ken and Brad knew the "question" to this answer. The category was "Etude, Brute." (Watson buzzed in first, of course.)

Music fans wax rhapsodic about this Hungarian's "Transcendental Etudes"

Watson: "Who is Franz Liszt?"

Watson's correct answer was no surprise. With key hints like "rhapsodic," Hungarian" and "Transcendental Etudes" -- it all pointed to Liszt. But did Watson groan at the "Etude, Brute" pun? Huh? Watson can't get puns. He's only as good as the information provided by his programmers. (But then, aren't we all?)

Final Jeopardy was the great equalizer. Watson lost his buzz-in mojo. Finally -- an even playing field among the three contestants.

The category was: "U.S. Cities." Watson guessed "Toronto." Brad and Ken had the correct answer: Chicago.

The burning post-game question was: How could Watson, with so much sophisticated programming, answer "Toronto" when the category was "U.S. Cities?"

Kind of makes one grateful for human limitations, like . . . have control over what you put in your own brain.

My Dear Watson, I have a gift for you. Here's what a Liszt Transcendental Etude sounds like, performed by Claudio ARRAU . . . something to consider if you start solving crosswords. (Watson can't see or hear, but just in case . . . )

All in all, I enjoyed last night's Jeopardy!, if only to get all crush-y about Brad Rutter again. The competition isn't over yet. It's half time -- the game continues tonight. Go, Brad!

Key Notes: Cactus Cuties

2011-02-15T01:43:00.021-05:00

Poor Francis Scott Key . . . he's rarely called on as a clue for KEY. You'd think that writing the The Star-Spangled Banner would get you into the crossword from time to time.

What is he -- chopped liver? No. Just a guy with a short surname that has many cluing angles. Skeleton, car, house, major, minor, escape, delete, shift, spare . . . for starters. Nothing personal; just business.

It's kind of ironic that, in American crosswords, British composer Thomas ARNE gets recurring ink for "Rule, Britannia" and his opera "Artaxerxes." Wha? Yeah, "Artaxerxes."

Poor Francis Scott Key. He gets no crossword respect and he has to listen to singers mangle his anthem.

The Star-Spangled Banner is a tough piece, but some singers have performed it beautifully -- like Beyoncé, Jennifer Hudson and . . .

. . . the Cactus Cuties.

In this rendition of the nation anthem, I was struck by the absence of sound. Every note is not embellished. Their singing isn't American Idol-ized. No double-wide vibratos. Nothing . . . except lovely phrasing, good pitch and the notes. I love it.

Kids, these days! This'll make Francis Scott Key smile.

The King's Speech -- Ode to Beethoven

2011-02-09T16:44:00.014-05:00

Ah, Beethoven -- what would gridographers do without him? Those "smalls" that help support crosswords (VON, FUR, ODE) have classical applications: Ludwig VON Beethoven composed "FÜR Elise" and "ODE to Joy" (from the 9th Symphony). And if you need four vowels in a six-letter word (who doesn't?), his EROICA Symphony (No. 3) does the trick.

Off-grid, a reader asked about the music soundtrack to the awesome "speech" portion of The King's Speech. Remember those final scenes between Geoffrey Rush and Colin Firth? Unbelievable.

Dear Reader, here it is -- the 2nd Movement (Allegretto) of Beethoven's 7th Symphony in A Major.

I've never met a Leonard Bernstein video that I didn't like.

Wow.

The Good Cry

2011-02-06T15:02:00.007-05:00

Perhaps we need art because, at times, it makes us cry.

I cried when I first saw a replica of this sculpture in Brooklyn's Green-wood Cemetery. The original sculpture, by William Wetmore Story, is called Angel of Grief. An angel crying, grieving for a mortal's soul. A beautiful, heart-wrenching image.

Certain pieces of music, like the slow movement of Beethoven's "Emperor" piano concerto (No. 5), make me weep. Ken Burns used this piece in his Frank Lloyd Wright documentary (Wright admired Beethoven as a great architect of musical structures.) I cried then, too.

Yesterday we saw "The King's Speech," which featured the Emperor Concerto (slow movement) as a backdrop for the dramatic ending. I cried. I loved it. I hope this film wins every Oscar imaginable, including cruciverbal kudos for casting EVE Best (the glitzy doctor in "Nurse Jackie") as Mrs. Wallis Simpson. Brilliant.

Members of the Academy: if Helena Bonham Carter (extraordinary as the young "Queen Mum") doesn't win the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress . . . and . . . if the film doesn't win for best musical soundtrack . . . I shall cry.

Here's the slow movement of the Emperor Concerto -- Lenny Bernstein and Krystian Zimerman do their magic:

Kimchi Dreamin'

2011-02-02T13:58:00.012-05:00

Gosh, I love Kimchi. Or is it Kim Chi, kimchee, kim chee or kimchi? After tasting Korean vegetarian cuisine at HanGawi, (an extraordinary restaurant in the shadow of the Empire State Building on 32nd St.) there was no going back to a life without hot pepper flakes from the Korean market.

A HanGawi meal starts with a Soju Cocktail. Then: Mango Pear Salad. Tofu Kimchi Hotpot. Mushroom sizzler. Spicy Kimchi Mushroom Pancakes. Fresh, beautiful, elegant.

I'm depending on my crossword colleagues to set me straight on the spelling of KIMCHI. And is it one or two words? Please advise, Joon.

In the meantime, I'm going to make kimchi.

Napa cabbage, garlic, scallions, daikon radish in a spicy sauce. All that cruciferous, anti-oxidant goodness in a dish that, until I watched this video, seemed a bit out of my cooking range.

The very nice lady in this YouTube tutorial gives me hope. I think I can. The chef uses apples, apple pears and sugar to sweeten the sauce. Lovely.

During these "wintry-mix" days, I dream of coming home, kicking off my salt-encrusted, almost-destroyed boots and heading for the fridge where . . . containers of Kimchi are waiting to calm me down.

Dear Friends . . . if you've made Kimchi, please share your experiences with this Newbie. And if you've devised a vegan version (a substitute for the fish sauce), I'm all ears.

Have a delicious day!

Got It!

2011-01-23T15:14:00.008-05:00

"People understand me so little that they do not even understand when I complain of being misunderstood."
~ Søren Kierkegaard

. . . came across this quote yesterday, and . . . man, I'm relieved. So, I wasn't expected to understand The Concept of Anxiety (also known by its more upbeat title, The Concept of Dread) in Philosophy 101.

It's said that Kirkegaard suffered from feelings of dread and sadness. A flamenco version of an Animals oldie would cheer him up. In our house, we like to dance the flamenco after pondering Danish existential theory. (This song title provides a nice MEBE partial, in a pinch. Maybe.) Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood . . .

Olé, Søren K!

The Raindrop

2011-01-18T18:49:00.022-05:00

I like shortcuts. And so, abbreviations in crosswords never bothered me. If a theme is interesting, I don't even think about the little abbreviations that support the whole shebang. This probably has something to do with early musical training. Abbreviations are intrinsic to musical score vocabulary.

Shortcuts support the creation (performance) of a piece of music. And if you're sight reading (performing music for the first time, and trying to get folks to hire you again), abbreviations keep the score landscape uncluttered; this helps you look ahead, and process a block of measures before you actually play the notes.

Take Chopin's Prelude No. 15 (Op. 28), nicknamed "Raindrop." This video follows the score, with a Vladimir Horowitz soundtrack. Check out the standard abbreviations:

cresc. = Crescendo (gradually increase the sound)
f = Forte (play loudly)
p = Piano (play softly -- especially beautiful at 3:12)
smorz. = Smorzando (play so that the sound dies away)

At music camp, we told the younger kids that smorzando markings originated with a Romanian composer who gorged on S'mores until his stomach exploded and he died. "That's why you make the sound die away . . . ."

This is probably why our camp counselor left in the middle of the night to take a job opening at a computer camp 2,000 miles away.

I can't imagine Vladimir Horowitz being within 2,000 miles of a S'more, or having any knowledge of its composition or taste. But he sure does justice to this prelude and the smorzando at 4:19. His "Raindrop" is a lovely soundtrack to today's wintry mix of snow and rain.

The "Raindrop" nickname (adopted after Chopin's death) is another handy bit of shorthand. If someone says: "I just heard the 'Raindrop' on the radio," the DNA of the piece is understood. You know it's a piano piece, a prelude by Chopin. Nuff said.

Here's Vladimir . . . can you hear the raindrops?

O Pioneers

2011-01-14T19:00:00.013-05:00

In the matter of a previous roundup of nine Crossword Bloggers:

An important reminder from KarmaSartre brings to mind two NYT crossword bloggers (Curtis Yee and Linda G.) who blazed trails of their own.

It has come to my attention that, from Day One, crossword bloggers conspired to be symmetric. The evidence is clear: they posted under names like DEB, DON, REX, AMY, PAT, JIM, RYAN, ROSS, BRIAN (six 3's, two 4's and one 5). . . and CURTIS and LINDAG (two 6's).

Really? Such premeditated symmetry shall not go unnoticed. Ladies and gentlemen, we're onto you . . .

Curtis Yee, dubbed "Father of Crossword Blogs" by Patrick Merrell, started the ball rolling on April 18, 2005. The date stamp establishes paternity. How cool is that: a 20-something Curtis is the "Father" of a blogging movement. And who can forget Linda G.'s lovely blog? Though I've never met or spoken to Linda G., I imagine that she has a beautiful voice; it came through in her writing. I'm glad that their blogs are still up for us to enjoy.

Willa Cather's O Pioneers! chronicles the enduring spirit of life on the prairie. Say "O Pioneers!" really fast and it'll elide into -- OPINERS (deep thinkers, like Curtis and Linda G.) It's Friday - champagne flutes are raised to toast Curtis, Linda G. and the crossword bloggers who breathe life into puzzles by solving them. Cheers to you!

Mr. Monk Visits

2011-01-08T19:21:00.014-05:00

Recently, in a total Adrian Monk Moment, I found myself obsessing about words and patterns and crossword bloggers.

Yeah, that's right. Not Drew Brees or Matt Hasselbeck or pangrams or potato latkes or even Joanne's splendicious Nutella Thumbprint Swirl Corn Muffins, but: crossword bloggers.

And not just any bloggers, but the ones who do the heavy lifting; they write (or have written -- some have retired to the Caymans) about the NYT crossword every day. Every single day. Throw an unchecked square at them and they'll laugh at you -- they've seen it all. They're there on the job, every day, blogging the puzzle from corner to corner.

Who are these people? They're Amy Reynaldo, Rex Parker, Ryan and Brian, Jim Horne, Donald (NYT Crossword in Gothic -- I love his artwork), Patrick Merrell, Ross Beresford and (most recently) Deb Amlen.

These folks are amazing -- not only because of their discipline, their intelligence and dedication to the daily dissection of puzzles . . .

They're also amazing because (Monk, you're going to love this!) their names can be symmetrically hidden in a themeless 72-word puzzle. A themeless with a theme. My aortic valve is aflutter with excitement. And for this and this alone, we shall drink champagne tonight.

Now, truth be told -- I had to tweak the Theme Production Process a tiny bit. (Donald, something tells me that you prefer "Donald" over "Don" -- but for symmetric purposes I shall invoke the Corleone Symmetry Technique and call you DON.) Just this once, please. Thank you.

Patrick Merrell, I know, uses "Pat" from time to time. And years ago, Michael Sharp thoughtfully chose to blog as "Rex Parker" -- to help with the symmetry of the themed names.

Time was of the essence. This grid had to be made (no clues, just the grid) before someone with a name like Krzysztof Penderecki starts blogging about the NYT puzzle. Short blogger names -- so symmetric and orderly. So beautiful to behold and befitting of an Adrian Monk Moment.

Aren't they a handsome nonet?

Variations on a clue for ARIA

2011-01-03T20:52:00.010-05:00

Aria: Battle lines? (think -- soprano Kathleen Battle)

ARIA is a crossword recidivist, almost always clued in terms of opera. "La Scala offering." "Caro nome, e.g." and the like.

But after watching this extraordinary Glenn Gould documentary last week, I'm reminded of a famous non-vocal ARIA that predates Puccini, Bizet and Bellini. This "Aria" is the beating heart of J.S. Bach's Goldberg Variations - the first and last "movements" on which variations are based.

Every New Year's Day I listen to the Goldberg Variations (preferably alone, lights off, glass of wine) as a way of honoring the miracle of human creativity. This year I chose Glenn Gould's mature, later-in-life 1981 recording. He is a genius. Some critics dismiss the "Aria" as too slow and labored. But I think it's exquisite -- honest, spare and clean as a Vermeer kitchen; and reminiscent of the majestic tempo in Wanda Landowska's 1945 harpsichord version.

What's your favorite recording of the Goldberg Variations?

Here's the Aria, performed by Glenn Gould. Happy New Year.

Re-defining . . .

2010-12-28T21:15:00.007-05:00

"White Coat" Hypertension: A seasonal disorder associated with a sudden rise in blood pressure, usually occurring at bedtime, triggered by the need to calculate the number of cubic yards of snow you'll have to shovel in the morning.

Get my drift?

Anatomy of a snow fall -- one flake at a time . . .

Noel

2010-12-24T20:14:00.016-05:00

Noel (n.): When to see Nick at night?

That's one of the best clues for NOEL -- spotted in an LAT puzzle a while back. Perfect.

Amidst the last-minute decorating, wrapping, cooking, cleaning and traveling, there's always music to calm or irritate (Santa Baby -- grrrrr) the stripes off one's candy cane. But . . . Josh Groban has grown on me a lot. That voice -- a mixture of pop and low-fat opera -- gets to me. Surprised?

"Eclectic" is a polite description of my musical tastes. The truth is, I'm strange.

I love artists with passion: The Beach Boys, Jacqueline Dupre, Sugarland, Queen, Anne-Sophie Mutter, Rob Thomas, Charlie Parker, Alicia Keys, Wanda Landowska, Anner Bylsma, Bryn Terfel, Lady Gaga, Jacqueline Dupre.

During workouts at the gym, maximum heart rates are achieved by listening to Verdi's Requiem followed by Wild Cherry's Play That Funky Music White Boy. J-Gro fits right in.

It's a beautiful, clear, cold night here in New York City.

Merry Christmas from our family to yours.

PSA -- I Love You

2010-12-21T14:53:00.014-05:00

PSA: acronym for Public Service Announcement (and handy-dandy crossword filler)

PSAs don't usually grab my attention, but this one made an indelible impression as a work of art. Wordless, lovely, evocative.

Dear Solvers, it's travel time -- to Grandmother's house we go. Please buckle up and remind your loved ones to do the same.

Peace of the Season.

Bass Line Assessment

2010-12-08T15:29:00.016-05:00

Yesterday morning I struggled with a clue for BASS LINE. Should it suggest Paul McCartney's bass playing? Paul Robeson's voice? A barbershop quartet part? Nah . . . I just gave up and moved on to other matters.

Very late last night (too late) I indulged in a Law & Order CI rerun which provided some good grid words. Who needs an EAMES chair clue when there's tough-talking Det. Alexandra EAMES played by Kathryn ERBE? "Criminal Intent" is one of the better L&W series; I like Vincent D'Onofrio as Eames's slightly-off partner.

This episode ("Albatross") opens with a re-enactment of the Alexander Hamilton/Aaron Burr duel. The opening theme immediately grabbed you -- "Under Pressure" by Queen and David Bowie.

Bingo! "Under Pressure" opens with one of the most famous BASS LINE riffs ever (later appropriated by Vanilla Ice). The vocals: four-octave phenom-legend Freddie Mercury.

(. . . still struggling with the clue -- can't get the Queen riff out of my head . . . )

The Joy of Saks

2010-12-01T13:40:00.029-05:00

If there's one thing I admire in art, sports and music it's -- precision. Precision is beauty. The way Brian Boitano lands a jump at the exact moment the music modulates. The way Serena Williams serves up a momentum-changing lob that catches the line and spins away. The way Leonardo da Vinci studied botany to prepare for the day he'd draw a flower.

I'm a pretty good speller, but some words get schmushed up in my mind and need special attention. Spelling = precision. After a summer job at Goldman SACHS, I finally figured out how to spell SAKS Fifth Avenue. Which is different from the tenor SAX I struggled with in h.s. swing band. And then there's author Oliver Sachs. Football sacks. And the industrial-sized sacks of flour hurled off the bakery roof on Cake Boss, during one of Buddy's practical jokes.

There's a holiday tradition that's so simple and lovely and precise that even I -- not the most enthusiastic holiday shopper -- will throw on my faux-fur Dr. Zhivago hat, jump into the troika and ride shotgun downtown to see it in person. Saks Fifth Avenue runs a light show at 15-minute intervals -- dancing snowflakes choreographed to "Carol of the Bells" with jaw-dropping precision.

The 2-minute soundtrack doesn't waste a note. Remember CRESC (abbr. for crescendo) from puzzles? The crescendi (gradual increases in volume) are here -- strategically placed for dramatic effect. I love the bungee-jumping string motifs at 1:36 (sounds like a Kreisler Etude on steroids), and the Carrie-like ending . . . at precisely 2:00.

Precision snowflakes dancing on the side of a building. Simple and beautiful to behold.

Food Pickle

2010-11-24T14:38:00.006-05:00

One of my dream jobs (besides being No. 1 Tennis Player in the World) would be: headline writer for The New York Post. I love a good headline.

In June 1997, on the day after Mike Tyson bit Evander Holyfield's ear during their famous "Bite Fight," the newspaper headline screamed: "It's Ear-Responsible!!"

Now that's the kind of wordplay you can sink your teeth into.

I guess I'll have to channel my Tabloid Headline Envy into writing titles for puzzles. Still, I admire website names that clearly and cleverly describe their mission, like . . .

Food Pickle.

If you have a kitchen disaster (you're in a pickle), or a last-minute Thanksgiving Day cooking question -- go to Food Pickle, where you'll get real-time advice. Can you cut up a big batch of turnips and store them overnight? Is there a use for that block of Velveeta in the fridge? How do I overcome Gummy Piecrust Syndrome?

Ask Food Pickle. What a nice, crunchy name.

A National Day of Gratitude -- what could be better? Eat well, engage in group hugs and enjoy.

Happy Thanksgiving.

White Guys

2010-11-21T14:45:00.043-05:00

If you're a crossword solver, it's happened to you. It's weird and scary and fantastic and the reason why we keep crawling back to the grid.

Sometimes the answers to crosswords are revealed to us hours before we sit down to solve them.

It happened yesterday.

That morning I heard the first Christmas song of 2010 come over the radio. Willie Nelson's Frosty The Snowman would be the first of many in this overplayed genre. But as holiday songs go, Frosty is one of the nicer ones. I don't hate it the way I hate Madonna's creepy Santa Baby. Besides, Frosty seems like a real catch: he's a jolly, happy soul. Kids adore him. And he knows how to dance. What's not to love?

Energized by a surge of holiday spirit, I started the holiday to-do lists. What to make for the Christmas Tapas Party? Pomegranate Martinis. Thomas Keller's Savory Leek Bread Pudding, a smoked salmon plate, a tray of confections. I pulled out the The Joy of Cooking to look up Irma Rombauer's Almond Crescent recipe. But there would be no more menu planning: the Crossword Fates had secured the area and were closing in on me.

Because there it was, tucked between pp. 712-713 -- a New York Times crossword puzzle neatly snipped from a 2004 newspaper. (I must have saved it for a rainy day.) Jackpot! [ding, ding ding!] It was unsolved. And that it was constructed by perhaps my favorite constructor, Sherry O. Blackard, made me stop cold. Sherry's puzzles are literate, diabolical, fun and utterly addictive.

I hadn't seen Sherry's byline in recent years; and so, an unsolved Blackard puzzle, on paper, is a rare commodity. I knew better than to glance at it -- one peek, and I'll be hooked into solving it until the end. There was no time for solving. I had to be at Wall Street in a few hours. I had to learn the Mahler. Do laundry. Make 11 phone calls.

But maybe I'll just take a peek at one of Sherry's clues, chosen at random:

The clue for 34-Down is "White guys?" The answer is seven letters . . . huh?

White guys?

C'mon, snap out of it! There was no time for crosswords. I had to shower, change two lower viola strings, return library books, and dissuade my niece and nephew from dragging me to the Times Square M&M Store.

White guys?

Sherry, what's going on! I've no time for puzzles. I'm late already. Can't I just . . .

White guys?

Sherry, this is an outrage! Okay, okay, I'll take the puzzle along for the subway trip downtown.

Later, on the No. 1 train, somewhere between 14th and Chambers Street, the answer to White guys? floated onto the grid as gently as the first snowflake of the season.

It started with the Willie Nelson song earlier that day . . . that caused me to plan a Christmas menu . . . that led me to Irma Rombauer's Joy of Cooking . . . that uncovered a 6-year-old puzzle containing clues like White guys?

Sherry's "White guys" are SNOWMEN. Aaaaah, I love when this happens -- Willie Nelson's Frosty The Snowman set the stage for solving Sherry's puzzle. It's magic.

Has it happened to you? I bet it has.

The Westport Library Crossword Puzzle Goes Interactive

2010-11-13T14:58:00.017-05:00

As the trees shed their leaves on this gorgeous Autumn day, let us shed any inhibitions about solving crosswords in public.

The Westport Library invites you to solve a special crossword puzzle, custom-made by yours truly. I loved making this puzzle, as public libraries are near and dear to my heart. Growing up in Jersey shore town, I depended on our modest local public library as an after-school home, a summer home, a rainy-day home. Good times.

Maxine Bleiweis, Westport Library's Director extraordinaire, has spearheaded an interactive crossword experience that encourages visitors to solve the jumbo-sized grid-- openly and with wild abandon.

Many of you know Maxine through the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, where she's a regular competitor.

The Westport Library is one of the finest libraries in the nation, and home of its own crossword contest in February. (Westport is to the ACPT what the French Open is to Wimbledon).

If you're near Westport, Connecticut (or east of the Mississippi), please drop by.

Dan Woog's Westport blog has the background story. The puzzle will be up for a limited time (check with the Library for more info and visiting hours) . . . all the more reason to get there and solve! Enjoy.

2010 New York City Marathon

2010-11-07T12:23:00.013-05:00

So you come across a crossword clue like "Ethiopian Marathoner Gebremariam" and now what? Neat trick. The clue gives you the answer, as Mr. Gebremariam's first name, GEBRE, is embedded in his last name. Good times.

Every year, on Marathon Day I vow to get into better condition. After watching the top runners sprinting through Central Park at Mile 25 (!), how can one not drop to the ground and do 50 push-ups? I always cry as the leaders run by, followed by camera crews on electric cars and NYPD escorts. This simple act of running, taken to an extraordinary level. Amazing!

On this perfect Autumn day with not a cloud in the sky, there's more good news . . . for constructors.

The winner of the women's title is EDNA KIPLAGAT of Kenya. Her name is easy to remember, as it anagrams into the common, everyday phrase: GET AN IPAD, KAL! It's nice to run with a new clue for EDNA.

Congratulations to Edna Kiplagat and Gebre Gebremariam, winners of the 2010 New York City Marathon. What an astounding achievement! We'll see you on grid soon!

Furniture for the Hoi Polloi, Poi Holloi and Everyone in Between

2010-10-30T16:02:00.033-04:00

The jury's still out as to whether this chair, with its patented 2800 RPM Hula Motor, will help or hinder the crossword solving experience . . . but there's always Halloween.

Costume originality is de rigueur at tomorrow's Greenwich Village Halloween Parade. What should one wear to get noticed? Leave the predictable Lady Gaga and Bed Bug get-ups for the lemmings.

By rolling up Sixth Avenue in a Hawaii Chair, you will run circles around the competition dressed as -- The Ultimate End User.

The parade kicks off at 7 P.M tomorrow -- see you there.

Happy Aloha-ween!

(The Hawaii Chair pitch man might have had some credibility, had he actually demonstrated the product, instead of letting the women do most of the "testing." Notice that he doesn't go anywhere near the chair. Tsk! Positively Cro-Magnon.)

Thanks to Joe Posnanski at Joe Blogs for finding this video . . .

The Wright Stuff

2010-10-22T02:02:00.012-04:00

In the 1950s, Frank Lloyd Wright endured harsh criticisms for his spiral-shaped Guggenheim Museum design, including accusations that the facade resembled a giant washing machine, looming over Fifth Avenue.

He was deeply agitated by such criticisms. (After that, Frank couldn't listen to Wagner's Ring Cycle without tearing up.)

Tonight the magnificent facade was used in a way that even Wright couldn't have predicted -- as a backdrop for this YouTube event. I love this application. But what's next?

I suggest that giant, mutant crossword puzzles be projected onto the facade. It's the next logical step, since crosswords have long celebrated Guggenheim artists like ARP, KLEE and ERNST, MARC Chagall and OSKAR Kokoschka.

We're waiting for our close-up, Ms. Guggenheim . . .

John Lennon, the Violin and the Deli

2010-10-08T16:35:00.048-04:00

When I lived on West 71st Street I used to see John Lennon at the local 24-hour deli, buying cigarettes and odd things. I never spotted him during the day . . . only late at night, after my orchestra rehearsals. We made eye contact one night, as he glanced from under his cap at the violin case that was strapped over my shoulder.

John Lennon and I shared a few cubic centimeters of common ground for conversation. You may say I'm a dreamer, but, hey -- we were both musicians, living in the same neighborhood, keeping odd hours, making midnight deli runs. Did it really matter that he was one of the Beatles and I . . . wasn't?

Yeah, it mattered. I was SO in awe, and trying to hide it.

Imagine if I'd told John Lennon the truth -- that he was responsible for the violin I carried into the deli that night? That, as a child, I'd started studying the violin as part of my obsession with a Beatles song -- Eleanor Rigby -- which featured the most awesome double string quartet in popular musical history?

That would have been a full circle moment. For me, at least.

I almost talked to him that night . . . but decided not to. I just smiled at him and walked out the door. It didn't seem fair to invade John Lennon's privacy with stories about how a strange woman in a deli became a violinist.

But, going forward, there would be a lot more to be thankful for.

If I ran into Lennon tomorrow, on his 70th birthday, I'd thank him for being the best friend a puzzlemaker could ever have. In the puzzle world, his wife is more popular than he is, and he'd probably love it.

"Mr. Lennon -- thank you, thank you, thank you . . . for marrying Yoko Ono!"

Dancing With The Puzzlemakers

2010-09-25T17:05:00.046-04:00

It's only a matter of time before the producers of Dancing With the Stars make their way down the food chain. Down past the Super Bowl MVPs, billionaire entrepreneurs and politicians' children. That's it -- keep shimmying down the food chain, to a place near the Earth's core. Down to where the real dancers are. Down to Area 225 -- where the puzzlemakers are waiting.

I'm ready to appear on Dancing with the Stars, with the fantastic, flamenco-trained Mark Ballas as my partner. Olé!

For my required tango, I've chosen music by the Gotan Project. It's all written in the stars, of course. GOTAN could be a partial clue (as in "I've ____ idea"), but there's no need to go there. The Gotan Project is one of the hottest groups on the international stage.

Now why should the DWTS producers even consider me for the show? Here's why:

Puzzlemakers, like dancers, carefully choreograph Sunday themes with artistic precision and economy of motion. We PLIE, JETE and CHA-CHA across our grids on an hourly basis. Puzzlemakers practically invented the box step.

We're among the few wedding guests who can dance and spell HORA.

And, man, can puzzlemakers take the heat! Think Bill Clinton- and Eliot Spitzer-resilient. When our work is excoriated on websites devoted to puzzle critiques . . . we rhumba past our critics without missing a beat . . . on to the next puzzle and the next dance. Good posture, confidence, passion.

Finally, I am uniquely qualified for the job. I can make a Sunday-size puzzle -- backwards, in heels and in rectus abdominis-crushing shapewear. I ask you -- can my male peers do that?

Check out Richard Gere and Jennifer Lopez (grid buds GERE and JLO) in this YouTube vid . . . this is my tango music selection. Santa María (del Buen Ayre) by the Gotan Project. So incredibly Red Savina pepper hot!!

So, what does a puzzlemaker do while waiting for the big DWTS casting call? It's never too early to start the arm exercises -- this means bench-pressing the Oxford English Dictionary with one hand, while working the phone with the other.

Hey, things are looking up. Vera Wang just called: my black-and-white sequin gown (asymmetric, with strategically-placed unchecked squares) is ready. Shall we dance?

Grid is Good

2010-09-19T14:11:00.061-04:00

It's been a challenging month. A ruptured hot water pipe upstairs ruined my recently-painted living room ceiling. (Oh, how I love to paint ceilings!) The air conditioner ceased to condition air. Three very expensive brand-new viola strings broke shortly before a concert. I lost my Metrocard. And, ouch, my teeth have started to hurt.

With the world rapidly closing in on me, I did what any Upper West Side Desperate Non-Housewife would do -- I joined a football pool.

Honestly, I don't know how it happened. One moment you're standing there, in your usual puzzlemaking attire (a Juicy Couture sweat suit and three-inch stiletto heels) . . . and in a split second, your world changes. Splish-Splash!! Suddenly you're thrashing around in the deep end of the football pool teeming with Dolphins and Vikings and Seahawks. And it's changed me in profound ways.

Being in a football pool has made me a more tolerant person. For the first time in my life, I'm poring over websites devoted solely to point spreads. My new friends -- Vinny, Tommie, Joey and Mad Dog -- aren't just voices on sports talk radio . . . they're almost family. And God help me, I'm beginning to understand men and their relationship to Monday Night Football.

Being in a football pool has made me a more compassionate person -- I care deeply about groin injuries other than my own . . . and how said injuries might affect my standing in the football pool.

Being in a football pool put my problems into perspective. Things aren't so bad, after all. Cool nights are here -- no AC required. I found a new set of viola strings in (duh) the viola case. The Metrocard turned up in a jeans pocket on laundry day. Sure, my teeth still hurt and the ceiling is still ruined, but who notices pain or crummy ceilings during football season?

Finally -- being in a football pool has encouraged creativity. New-found obsessions = fresh ideas and new puzzles. I now appreciate all those grid-saving shorties like NFC, AFC, RBS, HBS, QBS, TDS, TES, OGS. (National Football Conference, American Football Conference, running backs, halfbacks, quarterbacks, touchdowns, tight ends and offensive guards.) Grid is good.

So how am I doing? Last week, my pick--the Steelers--won in a nail-biting overtime. It was one of those OTS (fifth quarters) we see in puzzles. Whew . . . still flailing around in the deep end of the pool, but I'm alive!

A pitcher of margaritas is in the fridge . . . and it's time to make the guacamole before today's game. In closing, there are but two words to say . . .

Go Packers!!

Dancing With The Scientists at NYU

2010-09-15T20:57:00.044-04:00

Anyone who does crosswords knows that IGOT is often defined as a partial . . . as in "____ Rhythm, the famous Gershwin song.

Look who's got rhythm . . . Snowball--a sulphur-crested cockatoo--likes to groove to "Everybody," by the Backstreet Boys. She's got a funky, steady rhythm, and a variety of remarkable moves that'll make a panel of distinguished scientists get up and shake their respective thangs.

Just think of the applications for crossword puzzle tournaments with talent competitions.

Come on! Get up and dance with the multi-talon-ted Snowball . . .

Giant Bubbles By the Sea

2010-09-13T14:32:00.056-04:00

In 1722, when Johann Sabastian Bach wrote Prelude No. 1 in C, he was already way ahead of his time. He knew he'd have to wait for YouTube to be invented before the perfect video (featuring the prelude as soundtrack) would come along. No problem, he could wait. In the meantime -- it being the 18th century -- Bach had a lot on his plate. There were cantatas to write, children to conceive and wigs to powder.

The planets started to align for Johann in the 20th century, when Mr. and Mrs. Johnson named their son "Sterling." Even in diapers, the baby already had a sterling reputation. His parents knew that STERLING JOHNSON (a perfect 15-letter crossword centerpiece), would make a puzzlemaker smile and dot the grid with circles (bubbles!) that contained a secret message as the puzzle solution unfolded.

True to his name, Sterling took the road not travelled by. He became a Bubblesmith. He creates giant rainbow bubbles on the beach. Children run through the bubbles while adults dart out the way and record the action on their iPhones. The bubbles live for but a few seconds, then disappear in one backward motion, as though they've been backspaced in mid air.

I think I've found a new definition for PEACE OF MIND: Mutant rainbow bubbles by the sea. This short video features a perfect soundtrack that, mercifully, avoids any reference to Don Ho's Tiny Bubbles. Bach's music is front and center --- yay! It's the Prelude No. 1 in C, performed in a nice, slow tempo. The arpeggiated chords sound like bubbles to me. Do you hear them? (Or . . . am I simply unwell?)

It's been a challenging week, personally, professionally and everything-ly. I sure could use more solutions and fewer puzzles. My grid has no numbered boxes or clues . . . it's simply a solution floating by, ready to pop and disappear at any moment.

And since it's Monday . . . I'll need to hear Bach and look at giant rainbow bubbles by the sea.

Sterling Johnson, to the rescue . . .

Via Nathan Bransford

Nine Years

2010-09-11T01:43:00.002-04:00

September 11, 2001

New York City

Shanksville, Pennsylvania

The Pentagon, Arlington County, Virginia

The heart that truly loves, never forgets.

Solving the Greatest Puzzle . . . Someday

2010-09-04T13:40:00.051-04:00

In my exquisitely-crafted and well-received memoir, Narcissism for Dummies, I shared this recurring puzzlemaking fantasy with my readers:

"Someday I'll have a part in something that's huge, like--finding a cure for cancer. And this is how it'll play out. The scientist who finds a cure for cancer on one fated afternoon in the future--will have started that very day with a cup of coffee, a cranberry-nut muffin and, maybe . . . one of my puzzles."

Someday I might be a big macher.

In the meantime, I'm keeping it real. I've accepted that my place on the Cancer Research Food Chain lies somewhere between the sponges and zucchini.

So, what is to be done between now and someday? I'm taking action . . . Sunday, September 12. Central Park, The Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. Registration for the NYC race is a snap.

The Race for the Cure is an international event. To find a local race near you, check out the main site. You can run, walk or roll across the finish line.

Friends everywhere, let's all help write a solution for the greatest puzzle of all -- a cure for cancer.

Someday.

The Zucchini Industrial Complex

2010-09-02T17:08:00.070-04:00

Ever since Joanne at "Eats Well With Others" wrote about zucchini as an emerging world power, I've looked at our local green market in a different light. Joanne has uncovered a conspiracy. It has come to my attention that mountains of zucchini control the air rights above the Columbia University Green Market. No other vegetable occupies more Upper West Side square footage than zucchini.

I've been watching them. Every Thursday and Sunday -- hours before sunrise -- truckloads of zucchini quietly roll into Upper Manhattan; the zucchini provocatively arrange themselves in huge, overflowing heaps in the greenmarket stalls. By the time we shoppers arrive at 8 a.m, all it takes is a sideways glance at the Evil Empire of Green and Gold and . . . game over. We're buying zucchini again, for the 157th time this summer.

Then come the irrational thoughts that have nothing to do with muffins, bread or deep-frying. We've been brainwashed, as Joanne explained, into thinking the unthinkable. New applications. Recipes like . . . Zucchini Thermidor and Zucchini Foam on a Bed of Warm Poi.

Do these vegetables have no shame? (We tried to reach the zucchini for comment, but they declined to be interviewed or photographed for this piece.)

As a casualty of the Zucchini Industrial Complex, I've suffered. Zucchini has caused me to misspell words . . . like, zucchini. I keep dropping the "H" -- ZUCCINI looks right to me, but it's wrong, all wrong . . . an occupational hazard, if you're making puzzles.

I also blame zucchini for my inability to spell LOCAVORE; for some reason, I keep visualizing LOCOVORE, with an extra "O" and no "A." This eats away at my confidence.

LOCAVORE is a handy word to throw around at your local farmers' market. It gives you street cred; it means you're down with eating locally and seasonally. Late summer means dinners of organic tomatoes, yellow peppers, sweet corn, plums. And those juicy Beefsteak Tomato sandwiches on toast -- so simple to eat. All you need is a wet suit and a bathtub. 'Tis the season.

Finally, I blame zucchini for making me more paranoid than I already am. I suspect there's a puzzlemaker out there, plotting to trick me by crossing LOCAVORE ("Many a Greenmarket patron") with TIA ("Madre's sibling").

And if that crossing should appear in a Monday crossword, I might write TIO (Madre's sibling, right?), instead of TIA. The result would be LOCOVORE -- which looks fine to me. Of course, that answer is wrong and there'd be no congratulatory greeting from Mr. Happy Pencil. That would be -- not exaggerating, here -- a travesty of international proportions.

But, there is a solution . . . it's entirely possible that LOCOVORE is a word, when defined as: "One who is crazy about eating locally."

So, how do ya like me now, zucchini? Yeah, I'm talkin' to you, you interloping squash-bucket punk -- I am a locovore.

Teddy Bear Confidential

2010-08-25T21:39:00.047-04:00

It is NOT a slow news day. ABC News reports that one in every four men travels with a stuffed animal.

This is news to me because I've never seen a teddy bear in a man's suitcase. And now I know why.

According to this article, wives and girlfriends are the last ones to know -- the guys are discreet about their cuddly on-the-road creature comforts.

Just think of the wider applications of this practice -- if Tiger Woods had traveled with Mr. Snuggles, perhaps he'd still be married, chugging Gatorade for big bucks, and winning tournaments.

The image of men traveling with stuffed animals is quite touching. I like it.

Mind you, I know of women who've climbed Mt. Shasta with stuffed animals in their backpacks, and they're totally up front about it. And I have every reason to believe that Casey (a college buddy who's now a pediatric neurosurgeon) still travels with Cousin Flopsie carefully ensconced in her Louis Vuitton Duomo carry-on.

So . . . the difference between genders is not in the practice of traveling with stuffed animals, but in the disclosure of said practice.

If my math is correct, this means that on a certain weekend next March -- while puzzlers drink, gorge and solve their way into eye-popping exhaustion at venues in New York City -- 49 visiting stuffed animals will be waiting for them in various rooms at the Brooklyn Bridge Marriott.

Ah, to be in the arms of Morpheus with Prince Olav the Orca close by . . . Good night, you princes and princesses of Brooklyn Heights, you Kings and Queens of New York County!

Voting Is Mightier Than The Sword

2010-08-22T16:46:00.027-04:00

"Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity"

That was a psychiatrist's assessment of suffragist Alice Paul in 1917. Alice had been targeted by Woodrow Wilson and his friends who wanted the psychiatrist to declare her insane; if she were institutionalized, she'd be unable to fight (picket the White House, go on hunger strikes) for a woman's right to vote.

Much to President Wilson's chagrin, the psychiatrist did not declare the lady gaga.

This weekend my colleague and friend Deb Amlen sent me a wonderful email, similar to this one I'd seen a while ago. I was happy to be reminded of the 90th anniversary of a woman's right to vote, observed last Wednesday -- August 18.

But I feel ashamed -- the anniversary came and went, and I hadn't thought to make a puzzle commemorating this amazing event. What was I doing on the night of this anniversary? Celebrating Cousin Rick's birthday downtown, wildly dancing to a Lady Gaga play list . . . and taking my right to vote totally for granted.

I should know better. When my parents emigrated to the States, they took voting very seriously; voting hadn't been an option in their part of the world. And so, whenever I saw mom and dad leave the house dressed in their "Sunday Best" on a Tuesday -- I knew it was Election Day.

Puzzle-wise, the women's suffrage movement has fine representation in the form of short names -- CATT, MOTT, CADY, GAGE, PAUL, BURNS. They're nice puzzle fill words. Sturdy and utilitarian. Okay, okay . . . short fill words aren't very sexy. But these women put it all on the line. They're important.

CATT:   Carrie Chapman Catt, founder of the League of Women Voters

MOTT: Lucretia Mott, abolitionist and regarded as the first "feminist"

CADY:   Elizabeth Cady Stanton, principal author of the "Declaration of Sentiments"

GAGE:   Matilda Joslyn Gage, Native American activist and editor of The National Citizen

PAUL:   Alice Paul, original author of the proposed ERA to the Constitution in 1923

BURNS:   Lucy Burns, editor of The Suffragist

These extraordinary women will pop up from time to time in crosswords (and more often from now on, if I can help it); they'll help you solve puzzles. And even if you've never solved a puzzle in your life, and never intend to (in other words, you're a normal, well-adjusted person) -- please remember these women.

Finally . . . in the 1880's, every edition of Matilda Joslyn Gage's The National Citizen was published with this adage: "The pen is mightier than the sword."

Inside feminist joke or . . . what?

Normal people (folks who think crosswords are stupid) might miss the inside joke. But puzzle folks familiar with partials will see a direct connection between Matilda Gage's suffragist humor and Lady Gaga.

Coming Home

2010-08-15T18:38:00.075-04:00

Last November, Quincy observed his first birthday in dramatic style -- shaking in fear, stranded on a third-story building ledge in Washington Heights. Two days and two freezing nights passed before he was rescued by a brave woman named Sherri. Shivering and malnourished to half his normal weight, Quincy -- a ginger male cat -- would face the following months on a tough journey . . . finding a permanent home.

Little is known about Quincy's first year on earth. The good folks at Washington Heights Cat Colony (co-founded by Sherri Laurence and Trish Bogle) suspect that he had been abused as a baby -- and presumably driven onto that third-story ledge out of fear and desperation. He's a survivor.

In 2010, Quincy moved from foster home to foster home, where he was cared for and nursed back to health. (Thank you, Lenore!)

But change was in the air. This past Friday, he was adopted into his permanent home -- his "forever home," in animal adoption parlance.

Still, Quincy keeps crawling out on that proverbial ledge. His official date of adoption is the traditionally unlucky Friday the 13th.

And as if that's not enough, he will have to endure one more unspeakable indignity -- living the rest of his natural life in the home of a puzzlemaker.

That said . . . Quincy has adapted to his new digs with remarkable resilience and good cheer, dismissing the abecedarian surroundings (rooms full of weird books about words, Rameau opera scores, suspiciously-shaped puzzle paraphernalia, etc.) with a nonchalant brush of his tail.

Totally uninterested in dwelling on the past, Quincy has moved forward. He's tail-tapping to Miles Davis when "Oleo" comes over the radio, and tending to administrative matters, such as . . .

. . . looking up his name in the dictionary . . . (it should be there, between QUINCUNX and QUINDECILLION) . . .

. . . and proofreading the words that begin with "Q" . . .

. . . and engaging in restorative power naps. (50 minutes out of every hour are spent in repose.)

That's Quincy. He's helping with the puzzles from now on. And though I'm surprised to learn that QUINCY appears only once in Jim Horne's database of NYT puzzles . . . it feels as though he's been a member of the family -- cruciverbal and otherwise -- for a long time. Welcome home, buddy!

Fifteen

2010-08-02T15:35:00.045-04:00

The number FIFTEEN is to the crossword world what TEN is to the Dewey Decimal System. FIFTEEN is the stealth number that's always on high alert -- agile, ninja-like, crouching in the shadows, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

I'm always happy to meet experienced solvers who've never noticed or cared that the daily crossword puzzle represents a 15 x 15-box landscape. As long as the solving is fun, who cares about the stats? No need to know.

And why would one need to know that CROSSWORD PUZZLE itself is a 15-letter word?

Or that grid-crucial IDES refers to the 15th day of the month? This comes in handy only if your name is Caesar. (He should have called in sick that day.)

If you spilled your first cup of extra-hot morning coffee on your laptop -- thus rendering you caffeine-deprived (very dangerous) and puzzleless (tragic) -- it's useless to note that the spill originated from your FIFTEEN-oz. "Blogging" mug that says: Never before have so many people with so little to say said so much to so few.

And so, you stumble about your day and play a friendly after-work tennis game with your boss. He wins the first point, FIFTEEN . . . and then game, set, match. Afterwards, at the pub, you rack up FIFTEEN billiard balls in a pick-up pool game with the same boss.

He demolishes you in pool (I have to let him win, right?) and wins the friendly 15-dollar bet. As you hand over the cash, your boss drags you onto the Karaoke Night stage and makes you perform FIFTEEN -- the Taylor Swift megahit that, when listened to repeatedly, has medical applications as a pharmaceutical-grade purgative.

It wasn't always this bad. I never noticed FIFTEENs back in the day . . . until "it" happened on a warm summer night in 1995. On my way home from rehearsal, after a 1 a.m. visit to the all-night market . . . I swung by the news stand to pick up the early edition of The New York Times. On the corner of 110th and Broadway, I paused to peek at the crossword page, hoping to see "it."

I'd been looking for it for months. Finally! There it was, my first puzzle in The Times. It was July 31, 1995 . . . fifteen years ago.

Fifteen.

Ask any constructor about their first byline, and watch his/her face assume a post-coital glow. Be prepared for a detailed account. You never forget your first newspaper byline. That's graduation day. It marks your transition from the murky "anything goes" self-published arena to an established literary space where people (other than your biological parents and the person who received one of your donated kidneys) like your work, and are willing to pay for it.

Suddenly, you're legit. Manny Nosowsky writes nice things about you on the NYT Forum. You feel a goofy thrill just knowing that the 15 x 15 idea started in your nerdy brain. It doesn't matter that a only a handful of folks noticed your FIFTEEN minutes of low-impact fame on that day . . . that was your first byline. You earned the right to make a scene. That was you, jumping up and down at the news stand, on a summer's night in 1995, holding the newspaper high above your head . . . as you tossed your virtual mortarboard into the skies above B'way and 110th Street. Cool.

If one is to write and construct puzzles for any length of time, it helps to be a little bit "off" . . . slightly nutty and out there. My soul brother and favorite songwriter, Rob Thomas, says it best:

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell . . .

Ali Oops

2010-07-20T16:05:00.041-04:00

My friend Rick called last night with a challenge, knowing that I'm an optimist at heart. He's fed up with "The Bachelorette," which has been accused of perpetuating every negative stereotype about men, women, heart-shaped bathtubs and soy candles. He says: "I bet you can't think of 10 positive things to say about this manipulative dreck of a show."

Okay. I'm up to the challenge . . . without pause, I've come up with No. 1 on the list:

Ten Positive Things To Say About ABC's "reality" show The Bachelorette:

1. Crossword puzzle constructors have a new clue for ALI, thanks to current "bachelorette" Ali Fedotowsky, who has fallen on the sword ("I gave up everything to be on this show!") looking for love, only to have her heart broken by Justin and Frank . . . so far.

2. through 10. Still thinking . . . there's no time limit on this, right?

To help me think of nine more positive things, I reviewed this YouTube vid of the show's episode in Turkey. Here, Ali gives that guy Justin an old-fashioned verbal beat-down, in front of his peers. And it's all very innocent and natural -- the humiliating event is caught on 15 hand-held cameras conveniently stationed in and around the hotel. You can almost hear the show's producers chomping at the bit with glee.

But Rick's harsh analysis might be slightly overstated. The Bachelorette has moments of compassion: no soy candles were harmed during the filming of this episode.

Who's The Boss?

2010-07-13T14:03:00.071-04:00

In the beginning of my solving life, I made up little exercises to help improve my technique. I'd practice by choosing a word or phrase (culled from that day's news) and then define it very quickly, in as many ways possible. For instance -- if I had to define THE BOSS in a puzzle, four ideas immediately come to mind:

My Mother: When we were kids, my dad referred to my mom as "The Boss," a nickname that came in handy during those "go ask your mother" scenarios.

Bruce, as in Springsteen--"The Boss," the guy who put Asbury Park, N.J. (my childhood stomping ground) on the map.

Bess Truman: Presidential trivia I learned through crosswords--Harry Truman called his wife, Bess, "The Boss."

George Steinbrenner: Long-time New York Yankees owner known as "The Boss."

How does one begin to examine the complex life of George Steinbrenner who died today at age 80? I'll leave that to the capable obit writers in tomorrow's newspapers. Some loved him, some hated him. What Steinbrenner hated the most was--losing. I loved that about him. He said: "Winning is the most important thing in my life, after breathing. Breathing first, winning next."

High achievers--like George Steinbrenner--are often criticized simply because they're the best, they've worked the hardest, they've taken the biggest risks.

In addition to presiding over seven World Series titles, Steinbrenner knew something about women. He made many women fans happy by enforcing a "Grooming Policy" which required that players lose the excess facial and skull hair. It was major league baseball's version of Extreme Makeover.

Prime example--when Johnny Damon joined the Yankees in 2006, he went from this to this. The transformation was astounding. I loved it, and so did every woman I know. And yes, we women know he's not just a pretty face. His awesome double steal (2nd and 3rd base on the same play) helped the Yankees win a 27th World Series last fall.

Steinbrenner's pitchers distinguished themselves in other fields too. Mike Mussina, the crossword-solving Yankee great and future Hall-of-Famer IMO, was featured in Patrick Creadon's Wordplay documentary.

Bravo to George Steinbrenner. He was the in-your-face performer, the quiet philanthropist, the quintessential New Yorker. He's The Boss.

Tiziano Crudeli and the Multiple Gol-asm

2010-07-08T03:16:00.019-04:00

When UOMO, the Italian word for "man," started to appear in crosswords, I delighted in seeing this beautiful term gain acceptance among puzzle editors. I love the sound of the word and its practical applications in puzzlemaking--where else can one find a word that starts with U-O? And if it's clued as "Man from Milan," UOMO makes me think of Tiziano Crudeli, the Italian football announcer famous for his unique broadcasting trademark . . . the multiple gol-asm.

Crudeli--soccer's version of Yosemite Sam, referred to as
"T-CRUD"--is unabashedly biased. He roots for A.C.Milan as though his life depends on it. I don't believe he's one of those guys who EMOTES with the same old shtick just to get attention . . . Crudeli is the real deal--madly, insanely, unconditionally passionate about his work. In five seconds flat, he will morph from a stone-faced Sphinx into an gol-spewing Icelandic volcano, depending on who's winning.

I've learned some Italian words by watching him in action. I'm pretty sure "Andiamo!" means "Let's go" in this context. (Please correct me, Italian experts . . ) And when he chants "Dai, dai, dai, dai . . ." in the RAT-A-TAT style, does it mean "Let's go!" as well?

Of course, the crossword term of the day is GOL, and Crudeli's "Gol!" is an out-of-body experience. In this clip, Crudeli's Gol-asms intensify until the announcer for Channel 7 has had enough, and pushes him away. Basta!

The fist pumps, the wild arms, the "Gol!" with a vibrato--it's Crudeli at his best. I love his man's passion. Molto Bene!

Secret Checkerboard Shortbread

2010-07-04T18:27:00.044-04:00

My lawyers have summoned me to their offices tonight, even though I've not been served with a subpoena or named in a lawsuit.

Terry and Al, partners of Racht & Taffae--a top New York City real estate law firm--are in possession of a prime piece of real estate. In addition to being close friends and legal advisors (Terry advised me when I bought my co-op), Racht & Taffae has a Hudson River view of tonight's fireworks show. They're throwing a party. Yay! What to bring? This calls for some home-made shortbread.

I love baking shortbread. And after experimenting with scores of shortbread recipes, I always return to the wisdom of IRMA Rombauer, the master chef of the Crossword Grid. Irma Rombauer's Joy of Cooking, a fixture in most kitchens, is a classic tome. In this house it's a reference book, tucked between the Harvard Dictionary of Music and Larousse Gastronomique. Mrs. Rombauer's simple Scotch Shortbread recipe--basic and egg-less (eggs were in short supply during harsh Scottish winters)--is a joy to bake.

The recipe is brilliant in its simplicity and calls for only four ingredients found in just about anyone's kitchen: Flour, sugar, butter, salt. I tweak it with a fifth component: 1/8 tsp. of vanilla . . . just because vanilla reminds me of Christmas.

Baking is, hands down, my favorite branch of cooking. It requires the same precision and careful measurements used in puzzlemaking. "Baking" my Aunt Zosia would say as she methodically measured every cup of flour as if it were her first, " is chemistry in a bowl."

I started the shortbread at 10 this morning and by 10:10 AM, had disrobed down to beach wear--whoa, it was hot today (90+). And with the oven going, there's no way around the intense heat. Did you ever have one of those dreams where you discover a new room in your house, a room you never knew was there? I never knew I had a built-in sweat lodge in my house.

When baking on a hot day, it's important to stay healthy and focused. Hydration is key. And so is sticking your head in the freezer on an "as-needed" basis. The water bottle is going strong and if necessary, I might even crack open a CODE BLUE, a sports "recovery" drink that caught my eye simply because it contains crossword regular AGAVE. How dorky am I! (It does help after a tennis match on a hot day, though.)

I baked two batches in separate pans and layered one pan with melted semi-sweet chocolate. I had considered making Millionaire's Shortbread, but having had some dental work this week, the gooey caramel layer might abscond with the temporary caps. Better to keep it simple with only the chocolate topping. The batches were cut into squares and assembled into a checkerboard pattern.

Things were going well until the lettering phase. I used White Royal icing for the lettering, but as you see, the heat melted the frosting. Hence the wobbly-looking fonts. By now the kitchen was at 120 degrees--any lettering was okay with me. There's a little secret message built into the Cryptic Checkerboard Shortbread . . . nothing subversive, mind you, just something to honor my hosts. But in the event that Homeland Security stops me on the No. 1 train tonight, I will cooperate with the authorities. It's entirely appropriate to profile crossword puzzle constructors in the name of national security.

Joy of Cooking includes a serious chapter on cocktail recipes, and some of the drinks are quite strong. One wonders how Irma managed to hold it together while writing this 900-page book. It would hardly be a stretch to imagine her relaxing with a stiff evening cocktail. How else does one wind down after a day of testing recipes for Broiled Brains (p. 504) and Shrimp Puffs (p. 75)?

And so, in keeping with this imagined tradition, I've poured myself a pre-prandial Apple Martini (Apple Schnapps, Grey Goose, ice). Here's a toast to Mrs. Rombauer on a job well done, and for giving crossword constructors a powerful clue for IRMA.

Joy to you on this holiday weekend and . . . Happy Birthday, America!

What's In A Name?

2010-06-29T15:55:00.036-04:00

Cluing RICK usually means calling on Springfield, Moranis, Derringer, Pitino or Casablanca's Blaine. But the most passionate "Rick" reports from the floor of the Chicago Board of Trade. If RANT, a crossword regular, needs any clarification--leave it to CNBC's Rick Santelli to show us exactly how it's done.

Today Santelli appealed to Congress to "Stop spending!!!" . . . except, of course, when it comes to the most cost-effective form of daily entertainment--the crossword puzzle. Financial experts agree that unlimited cruciverbal spending stimulates the mind and the economy.

If there's any question as to whether Rick was born to rant, consider these four consecutive letters in his name. It was written in the stars . . .

R-I-C-K S-A-N-T-E-L-L-I

All The Cheese That's Fit To Print

2010-06-28T16:08:00.025-04:00

Solving crosswords causes me to buy cheese.

Whenever I see FETA, BLEU, GOUDA, EDAM, SWISS, BRIE and ASIAGO in a grid, they call out to me during shopping trips to West Side Market. Upper-Upper Westsiders and Columbia University students know this supermarket as the 24/7 place to stock up on food while gorging on STORE D'OEUVRES in the cheese department.

STORE D'OEUVRES, a phrase that recently came onto my radar, is the perfect definition for those free food samples aimed at getting you into the store--and keeping you there until, cube by cube, you've eaten half a pound of six types of cheeses.

An overdose of cheese is usually followed by brain fog . . . I'm starting to ponder the architectural shapes of cheese as medieval weaponry. The cheese aisles are crammed with potentially-dangerous projectiles: BLOCKS of feta, BRICKS of cheddar, WHEELS of brie, WEDGES of swiss, BALLS of edam.

All this weaponry, and I've yet to see a fight break out in this cramped, narrow-aisled cheese department. A testament to the calming effect of STORE D'OEUVRES which, for good or for ill, count as rare freebies in one of the most expensive cities in the world.

Count Catula

2010-06-22T17:59:00.006-04:00

The hot, sultry summer days are here. That means it's time to brainstorm some Halloween-y puzzle themes. What's a three-letter word for "Gray Halloween critter"? A BAT or a CAT or both . . . it's Count Catula!

Dad: My Definition

2010-06-18T19:01:00.059-04:00

Puzzles are like eyes, they're windows to a puzzlemaker's soul. Choosing a handful of words--78 words for a daily puzzle--is an intensely biographical act. If you want to get into a puzzlemaker's head (I don't recommend it, but if one is so inclined . . .), study her grids. It's all there in black and white.

We choose and discard words for the same reason--they resonate with us on a personal level, positively or negatively, for good or for ill. By their very nature, words that never make the grid aren't noticed; but they carry special meaning, simply because they've been consciously excluded.

There are certain words and phrases I won't use in puzzles, such as: Mr. Mom. Mr. Mom is the title of a cute movie starring Michael Keaton in the role of a stay-at-home dad. The film was funny, but based on my childhood experience I promptly dismissed "Mr. Mom" as an anemic, inadequate descriptive of the stay-at-home dad. There is a better word to describe this man.

Technically, my Dad was a stay-at-home-dad . . . except that, when his "house" work was done, he went to his "work" work. Dad worked the night shift at the paper mill. When he returned home in the morning, he took over for my mom, and she'd leave for work at the dress factory. They were a precision tag team, parenting in different and complementary ways.

Mom was the extrovert with lots of friends. She moved quickly around the house doing chores, multi-tasking before there was a word for it; she literally threw dinner together in a flash . . . while sewing a winter coat and doing a few loads of laundry.

Dad was different--quiet, methodical, precise. He'd vacuum, wash floors, iron clothes, cook, tend the garden . . . in a graceful slo-mo. He'd have lunch on the table when we came home from school to watch Jeopardy! Dad did all this, on about three hours' sleep each night, for the better part of 20 years. I rarely saw him angry. I grew up assuming that all dads were like that.

Though Mom worked just as hard, it never occurred to me to define Dad in terms of my mother. "Mr. Mom" doesn't cut it for me. I have a better word.

What do I call the man who taught me how to tie my shoelaces, who drove me to tennis practice, who tuned my violin, who walked me to school on my first day of kindergarten?

I call him a Father.

Linus

2010-06-16T21:44:00.011-04:00

Aha! For quite a while, I've wondered how Ross Beresford, the force behind An Englishman Solves American Crosswords, maintains the stamina to blog such a wide variety of puzzles so effectively, and in such detail. Perhaps it's because he is aided and abetted by a powerful solving aid: Linus the cat.

Ross articulates his solving strategies and philosophy in "How I Solve Puzzles." I found his perspective illuminating, very helpful. Linus is a cutie. Thanks, Ross, for allowing me to post this picture.

Is that Linus, as in Linus Pawling?

Amy Reynaldo: The First Five Years

2010-06-12T16:18:00.037-04:00

Now that the Chicago Blackhawks have held the Stanley Cup high above their heads, and the Daley Fountain has been dyed red, it's time to continue the celebration in honor of another winner from Chicago. Tomorrow Amy Reynaldo (aka Orange) celebrates the fifth anniversary of her blog, Diary of a Crossword Fiend. If I lived in Chicago, I'd throw some yellow vegetable dye into that Fountain, and turn it Orange--just in time for Amy's blogiversary.

Not long after her take-no-prisoners inaugural post (aptly titled "Great Expectations") on June 13, 2005, Amy started to blog the NYT puzzle on a daily basis--a discipline clearly rooted in her passion for puzzles.

To my knowledge, she's one of the first bloggers of the New York Times puzzle, and the longest on the job.*

But more significantly for me, over a period of years, she developed the "daily" crossword blog. I'm in awe. Amy joins a syndicate of women inventors who've developed practical, everyday things: the Snugli, the windshield wiper, the modern brassiere, Liquid Paper, Toll House Cookies . . . and now, the crossword blog.

Amy has accomplished a lot in five years. As a top speed solver, she consistently scores high at the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament. She's written a book (How To Conquer the New York Times Crossword Puzzle); co-authored a Sunday NYT puzzle with Tony Orbach**; blogged puzzles from many markets (not enough bandwidth to list them here); hosted guest bloggers; presided over a Forum. And that's just for starters.

I don't recall when I first discovered Amy's blog, but this I know for sure: whenever I needed her help or advice, Amy has always been there for me. New York Times blogger Jim Horne, many of you may remember, started out as an independent. (Jim's first essay set the tone for what would be a new, proprietary spin on the NYT puzzle.) Jim credits Amy with help and encouragement during his early days on the blog. This changed the landscape for constructors, as Jim introduced databases and tools that revolutionized puzzlemaking. I can attest to that!

At times there have been dark clouds in the Orange sky. I won't forgive Amy for perpetrating the ultimate April Fools' prank: In a breezy post, she "resigned" and walked away. I was stunned. For a few, excruciating "It's A Wonderful Life" days, there it was--a blogosphere without her . . . weird and depressing. Amy, if do that again, at least give me some lead time to score a Zoloft scrip!

Five years ago, Amy was onto something new and different. There was no turning back. Today, in addition to the official NYT blog (Wordplay), there are at least four (correct me if I'm wrong!) independent daily blogs devoted solely to the NYT puzzle, making it the most blogged about crossword in the world. NYT higher-ups should be gratified by this much daily attention to a single feature.

Congratulations, Amy, on five years of innovation . . . for being one of the first on the scene . . . and for seeing the crossword puzzle as something to blog about.

++++++++++++++++++++++
*I am aware of Curtis Yee's NYT puzzle blog, dating back to April 2005; Curtis deserves special recognition. I'll clarify later this week.

**Updated Saturday PM, see comments--thanks Deb!

Thank You For Not Screaming

2010-06-06T12:38:00.057-04:00

When Francesca Schiavone won the championship match on the RED CLAY of the French Open yesterday, I felt an empowering adrenaline rush. It's refreshing to watch women negotiate the tennis court with strong one-handed backhands--charging the net, playing an aggressive serve-and-volley game. The aces, lobs, drop shots, touch volleys--awesome! Added bonus: We didn't have to turn the volume off to watch the women's finals.

Mercifully, Schiavone and opponent Samantha Stosur don't scrrrreeeee-e-e-e-e-e-e-ch (à la Maria Sharapova or Venus Williams) when they hit the ball. Thank you for not screaming.

My only regret: space-wise, it'll be tough to fit FRANCESCA SCHIAVONE into the puzzle grid, but I'll figure out a way. She's the first Italian women's champion in the Grand Slam era.

STOSUR is a solid grid word, quite unusual--and very handy in puzzle construction. I hope we'll see SAMANTHA STOSUR advance at Wimbledon in a few weeks, as she's part of a distinguished Australian tennis tradition. (Remember crossword oldies, ROD LAVER and PAT CASH?) My all-time favorite tennis star and childhood inspiration was the fantastic Australian, EVONNE GOOLAGONG (above). To my eyes, no player has ever matched Evonne's blend of athleticism, grace and exuberance. Her court presence was pure magic.

Crossword opportunities are better on the men's side of the French Open: As of today, RAFAEL NADAL (nicknamed RAFA, thank you very much) has racked up five French Open championships. And he's only 24 years old. May this charming man enjoy a long and injury-free career. Man, he's got class.

My only regret: Rafa wore a regular tennis shirt today. Please, bring back the sleeveless look! (Sigh . . .) J'adore!

Chicago's Antti Hero

2010-06-01T19:13:00.031-04:00

After the Stanley Cup finals wrap up, will Chicago Blackhawks goaltender Antti Niemi parlay his fame on ice into endorsement deals with:

Dairy Queen (Antti Freeze) or . . .
Mennen Speed Stick (Antti Perspirant) or . . .
Quiznos (Antti Hero)?

Perhaps there's a crossword theme in there somewhere, but ANTTI will have more practical applications for me, as an awesome new fill word.

Niemi, born in Vantaa (!) Finland, has caught my eye as the most crossword-excellent of this Stanley Cup. It's true, there's a lot to love between the two teams--The Blackhawks and the Philadelphia Flyers--with player names like HOSSA, EAGER, GAGNE, ASHAM, CARLE, PRONGER.

First of all--ANTTI NIEMI is amazing . . . the first and last names are new to my word list, a real godsend. But ANTTINIEMI, as a potential 10-letter crossword entry, makes me weep with gratitude. Solvers, take note: he's coming to a grid near you. Stanley Cup trivia is fair game in crosswords.

Okay, so I cringe and cover my mouth in sympathy when Duncan Keith leaves his teeth on the ice (or rather, they're removed with a stick).* But still, I'm a fan. I like to watch hockey for purely sentimental reasons. It makes me feel good, it makes me feel safe. I don't root for a favorite team; for me, it's the simple act of watching the game on TV.

My father was a huge hockey fan. When I little enough to have an 8 PM bedtime, I'd occasionally wake up to find him sitting in the living room with the lights off--watching hockey on TV. The volume was off, so as not to waken sleeping children.

If my timing was good, I'd catch a glimpse of our cat who wanted in on the hockey action. During the first period, the cat would run to the TV, sit on his hind legs and attack the puck by swatting his fully-clawed paws at the screen, kangaroo-style. Eventually my father would calm the cat down, and they'd both watch the game to its conclusion.

I look forward to tomorrow's game--to feeling good about new crossword names from Finland, warm childhood memories and pets that made me laugh.

*Ben kindly wrote in with a correction--see comments. Thank you, Ben! ~E.G. 7/7/10

Memorial Day

2010-05-26T13:51:00.019-04:00

I don't think I've ever made a puzzle with a Memorial Day theme. That's not to say I haven't tried.

Sure, I've searched for inspirational quotations or historical themes. But they all seem to fall short and the puzzles are never made. My father was an Army man who served during wartime, as did my grandfathers. Our family relocated to the States because of war. For me, perhaps the subject is just too close to the heart. There are no words.

Growing up in New Jersey, I played clarinet in the high school marching band. We always marched in the Memorial Day Parade. The play list? John Philip Sousa, all the way. The parade kicked off at City Hall, then snaked through the business district; then the residential area (right past our house, with my parents waving and snapping photos from the porch); and then, finally, up a steep hill to the cemetery.

After a brief ceremony, the Band Director dismissed us. We ran down the hill, disrobing along the way--literally ripping off the itchy-hot band jackets, plumed hats and uniform overlays. It was time to hit the Jersey Shore . . . Asbury Park, Long Beach Island, Wildwood, Spring Lake. Surf's up!

Looking back at that Memorial Day tradition--those four Monday morning parades I marched in, one for each year of high school--I'm informed through the lens of contemporary wars. The importance of ritual: the cemetery visits, the prayers, the little flags, the flowers. I understand now.

Three years ago on Memorial Day, this photo by John Moore ran on the Page One of the The New York Times. I will never forget the feelings evoked by this image--so sad, exquisite and private.

The caption reads: "Mary McHugh visited the grave of her fiancé, Sgt. James J. Regan, who was killed in Iraq in February." There are no words.

Fast Company . . . Milka Duno

2010-05-23T15:22:00.016-04:00

Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines and fire up the word lists.

Some record-setting numbers are swirling around next weekend's Indianapolis 500. It's possible that five women might qualify for the 33-car starting grid. They are: Danica Patrick, Sarah Fisher, Simona de Silvestro, Ana Beatriz and Milka Duno.

As a totally shallow person who's cruising for new puzzle words, I'm revved up and rooting for Milka Duno. MILKA and DUNO are brand new words in my list, potential grid savers. Some puzzles, especially Sunday grids, can unravel without a DUNO to connect the dots. In the crossword puzzle landscape, DUNO can "do no" harm.

Milka Duno's biography is very impressive; she's probably already shattered another record--as the most-educated Indy 500 racer. The Caracas-born naval engineer has four master's degrees. Her fields of study? Maritime Business; Naval Architecture; Fishing and Aquaculture; and Organizational Development.

I dunno . . . with that breadth of knowledge, a drive for learning new things and an engineering background--Duno would make an excellent puzzlemaker. I suspect she chose fast cars over puzzlemaking because racing is slightly more lucrative (although both professions are, of course, equally glamorous).

Here's to hoping that Milka Duno becomes a household crossword name, along with A.J. FOYT and Al UNSER. Buena Suerte to Milka and all the women competitors in next week's Indy 500 starting field.

Lena!

2010-05-15T13:25:00.034-04:00

Last year at about this time, during the fourth hour of an unhealthy, brain-altering constructing binge that involved the notion of making a crossword puzzle out of a museum--Lena Horne's voice came over the radio. All construction ceased, as it usually does, when Lena enters the room. There's no choice but to stop and listen in awe.

She had me at the first note of "Deed I Do," a song that was new to me. After it was over, I popped the new song title into my word list and continued struggling with the puzzle. I abandoned the grid shortly thereafter; it wasn't my day.

But a few weeks later, DEEDIDO saved and completed the lower right quadrant of that same, unreasonable, crazy grid. Had it not been for Lena's exquisite timing, that puzzle might not have been made. Thank you, Lena, for stepping in with a song title that fit perfectly into the grid. Sometimes a single fill entry (unrelated to the theme, as DEEDIDO was in this case) can make or break an entire puzzle.

Lena Horne died this week at the age of 92. For as long as I can remember, LENA has been a crossword regular. There are 4-1/2 generations of American history behind the word, LENA. It's a story of race, politics, feminism, art.

She was uniquely glamorous at every stage of her life. . . like in this Gap Ad which captured her dynamic self, looking fabulous at 80. And that voice--it's as strong as ever.

Lena, I will miss you. I think you're a one-of-a-kind talent, the tops, the best . . . 'deed I do.

Learning Curve

2010-05-10T14:07:00.033-04:00

It's Graduation time here at Columbia University and as the neighborhood prepares for the annual convergence of well-dressed parental units, it's my pleasure to present President Barack Obama's commencement address at Virginia's Hampton University. I'm intrigued by the President's speech to the 2010 graduating class of this historically-black college.

This morning, when I heard excerpts of yesterday's speech on the news, the President's remarks seemed especially applicable to older folks . . . that is, folks in the over-30 crowd who are umbilically wired up to any or all of these toys: the iPod, iPad, Xbox, Blackberry and yes, even a PlayStation.

President Obama is spot on about the importance of proactively selecting the voices we allow into our lives. He says:

"With so many voices clamoring for attention on blogs, and on cable, on talk radio, it can be difficult, at times, to sift through it all; to know what to believe; to figure out who's telling the truth and who's not. Let's face it, even some of the craziest claims can quickly gain traction. "

If I'm reading The President correctly, it's this: ditch the TV and read a good book for an hour. Trade in the fake guitar (Guitar Hero) for a real instrument, the kind that Mark Knopfler plays. (Jacob, my dearest Nephew, are you listening? I have a six-string guitar waiting for you!)

And if you're a new constructor--tune out all distractions and practice your craft every day. Carefully select your information sources, as the President counsels, and seek advice from editors and constructors active in the business.

I encourage new constructors to never give up, as the learning curve for advanced puzzlemaking is steep and jagged (two steps forward, one step back); the difficulty level is on a par with learning a stringed instrument. Daily practice is key.

How we manage our time is more important now than it ever has been. That's my takeaway from President Obama's remarks.

And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States addresses the 2010 graduating class of Hampton University:

Partial To Partials

2010-04-30T18:27:00.020-04:00

"Should I avoid partials?"

This frequent question posed by new constructors has me wondering why partials have gotten a bad rap. (Most of the constructor inquiries these days come from delightful young guys, eager to learn. I'm glad to share my opinion.)

First, let's define the term: A partial is a clue that contains words that can't stand on their own. Let's say you're in constructing a corner and you need a hand, a five-letter helping hand or literally A-H-A-N-D to complete the grid. AHAND is lifeless on its own, but it rises to the occasion in the title of Denzel Washington's book, "A Hand To Guide Me."

The partial, a clue form, is structured as so . . .

"___ to Guide Me" (Denzel Washington book); clue for AHAND

It differs from a fill-in-the-blank clue, which looks like this:

"A ___ to Guide Me" (Denzel Washington book); clue for HAND

From a solver's point of view, I love partials. I attack them first. They add visual and structural variety to the clue list. An uninterrupted block of clues--the unfortunate feature of one puzzle market which banned partials--is like being forced to eat No-Alarm Chili at a Jalapeno Pepper Convention. Boring is too interesting a word to describe a solid block of clues with no partials or fill-in-the-blanks.

As a constructor: I love partials. These are your indispensable construction tools. They're like little windows of light in a block of text; an opportunity to weave in a line of poetry by Elizabeth Bishop. . . .

"I ___ Need of Music" (AMIN -- for an IDI-less AMIN)

. . . or a Dave Barry book title . . .

"Boogers ___ Beat" (AREMY)

And so, new constructors, should I encounter some spicy partials in your puzzles, I will be your fan. If you cause me to write over, I shall cheer. If you stump me, I'll applaud with envy.

Use partials liberally and imaginatively, according to the puzzle market specs. Each market is different.

And listen carefully to your editors--they know more about their markets and solvership than anyone else.

J.K. Rowling: Dream Solver

2010-04-27T19:17:00.080-04:00

A few years ago, when Harvard University chose Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling as its commencement speaker, the reaction among my academic friends was clearly defined: as black and white as a crossword grid. One was either PRO or ANTI. There were no fence sitters on this one.

The genteel squabbling over Harvard's choice flowed into public spaces around the Columbia University area, my neck of the woods. On a cool April morning much like this one, while sitting in The Hungarian Pastry Shop with the usual suspects--a croissant, coffee and the day's crossword--I overheard two professors debate the issue. The men were in their early 40s, about J.K. Rowling's age at the time:

Professor A: "J.K. Rowling, a commencement speaker? It's a joke. She's not a scholar!"
Professor B: "That's right, she isn't one of us--she writes books my students actually want to read."

Rowling's book sales are estimated at 375 million. Without knowing a thing about Professor A--his field of study, his appointments, his publications--I'm willing to bet that Rowling's book sales exceeded his own . . . by a margin of 375 million, give or take a few thousand. Sour grapes, perhaps?

I hope the skeptics of 2008 eventually listened to Rowling's address, which captivated so many of us via YouTube. She weaves her personal story with practical advice: the importance of dealing with failure; getting a classical education; honoring history; showing a tolerance for otherness; nurturing imagination.

I can think of no better puzzlemaking tools than the honest life lessons she laid out to that Harvard graduating class.

Rowling demonstrates a deep understanding for her entire audience, a careful empathy that explains why her books appeal to kids and adults alike. Puzzlemakers can appreciate this, as they are charged with a similarly-broad empathy; their audience spans four generations (ages 20 through 100+ . . . give or take a few years either way).

Ever the storyteller, Rowling had the older kids at "hello." This simple and brilliant warning to the graduates generated a roar of applause . . . from the parents: "There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction; the moment you are old enough to take the wheel, responsibility lies with you."

As Rowling finishes and steps off stage, one is eager to learn more about this remarkable woman. She's intelligent, humble and compassionate--the kind of person you'd want to invite to dinner, to be your child's godparent . . . and if you're a constructor--the person you wish solved your puzzles. A Dream Solver.

Normal people imagine their dream houses, dream kitchens or dream cars. I, however, imagine my dream solvers--the people who get it. In this dream, J.K. Rowling sits in an Edinburgh cafe, knocks back her third morning coffee, and solves one of my puzzles. An unreasonable imagination means trouble in most situations, except in the puzzle world, where it's most welcome.

As Graduation Week approaches here at Columbia, I'll revisit Rowling's commencement address. It is one of the finest speeches of its kind, and a profound inspiration to this puzzlemaker.

The New Volcanocabulary

2010-04-21T16:07:00.104-04:00

My word list has been shut down until further notice -- grounded until who knows when? It all started with that volcano in Iceland. But the usual suspects -- molten LAVA, MAGMA and ASH -- aren't to blame.

The word list was broken by the volcano's name:

Eyjafjallajökull

That did it.

All I did was try to introduce EYJAFJALLAJOKULL to its crossword kin: MAUNA LOA, ETNA, VESUVIUS, STROMBOLI, PELEE, FUJI, MAUNA KEA. It was downhill after that. The word list is history.

Volcano E -- I'll see you in court.

I immediately called Teri, my lawyer . . . only to learn that she's stranded in Paris because of (you guessed it!) Volcano E. She had been vacationing in France when the first round of volcanic ash halted air travel. Though I've left messages, not a peep has been heard from Counsel.

Knowing Teri, she probably dismissed the flight delays with a litigator's fist-pump and not one iota of regret: "I am forced to spend seven extra days away from my clients . . . in Paris. Bring it!"

Teri is stranded in Paris. By day, she roughs it at The Louvre. In the evening she endures yet another French eatery--forced to live on avocado souffle, baby greens in a pomegranate vinaigrette and hazelnut buttercream torte.

This leaves me with no word list and no lawyer. And I can barely pronounce the defendant's name. Do I even have to say the word conspiracy? As the dust settles on the investigation, we learn of a possible co-conspirator. He is described as a sleep-deprived journalist with a QWERTY keyboard imprint on his forehead. A background check on Volcano E uncovered this etymological theory on how it got its name:

Eyjafjallajökull – named when the person writing about it fell asleep on his keyboard.

Ali that Glitters

2010-04-18T16:20:00.050-04:00

Just when you think that all the cluing angles for ALI have dried up . . . OMAR Sharif comes to the rescue--appearing on the desert horizon, riding towards you on camelback, all in one take. Such is Sharif's breathtaking entrance in David Lean's 1962 Oscar-winning film, Lawrence of Arabia.

At a recent viewing of Lawrence of Arabia (the restored long version), I espied our own OMAR Sharif playing Sherif ALI opposite Peter O'Toole's T. E. Lawrence.

Sharif is charismatically gorgeous in this film, and this is reason enough to love the film, but there's a reason why it won seven Oscars. It's a masterpiece, and for my money, David Lean's magnum opus.

Puzzlemakers have every right to claim Sharif as one of their own . . . one of crossword's own. OMAR has saved many a grid, thank you very much. But Sharif's ALI has been around since 1962, and yet I don't think it's used much, if at all, in contemporary puzzles.

Lawrence of Arabia is the quintessential EPIC film. And it's unusual -- it's not a traditional love story (there are no women in leading roles) . . . just a lot of guys involved in matters in the desert and away from the desert. (I won't spoil the story, for those who haven't seen the film -- no details here.) The restored version is spectacular. And did I mention that Sharif is gorgeous?

LOA offers good cluing material for crossword workhorses like LEAN, EPIC, ALI, ARID . . . not to mention unusuals like JARRE and AQABA. And if one needs cluing angles for quicksand, mirages, oases and sandstorms . . . Lean has provided the context, thanks to his masterful cinematography.

David LEAN won the Oscar for "Best Director" that year. Though he supposedly disliked actors and would have thrown sand in their faces if given the opportunity, he sure knew how to pick 'em. Omar Sharif, Peter O'Toole (unknown, prior to LOA), Anthony Quinn, ALEC Guinness are among the heavyweights in this cast.

The star of the film is the magnificent desert. In the end, I s'pose there is a love story: Lawrence loves the desert, which he adoringly describes as "clean." So romantic!

Maurice JARRE (composer of Dr. Zhivago's "Lara's Theme") won an Oscar for the score, whose sweeping theme stays in your head for days.

Any word with a free-standing "Q" (not followed by a "U") my oasis in a difficult construction session. Good news for puzzlemakers: AQABA is a major player in LOA.

It's the subject of one of the greatest lines in filmdom, when Lawrence appeals to Ali to make a difficult journey. He points to the desert and says: "Aqaba is over there. It's only a matter of going."

I Came, I Paw, I Conquered

2010-04-15T19:06:00.006-04:00

Steve Jobs, please roll out the iPaw, as soon as humanly possible. Iggy the Cat can't wait to get his paws on a scratch pad of his own.

And just think of the crossword applications for the IPAW . . . that is, if Iggy is willing to share . . .

OLEO Liberation Day

2010-04-13T21:29:00.076-04:00

The most erroneous stories are those we think we know best, and therefore never scrutinize or question.
~ Stephen Jay Gould

One of the reasons I moved to New York City (other than for overtly-serious reasons, like college) was . . . live jazz. I love the hole-in-the-wall blues bars and jazz clubs, like the one near my alma mater -- Smoke.

I need music to write puzzles. And so, I rely on my home state (NJ) for a fantastic late-night soundtrack; the radio is tuned to WBGO, a great jazz station out of Newark.

Jazz made me love that crossword recidivist -- OLEO. Yes, that's right. Oleo. You heard me. My OLEO has no transfats and doesn't clog the arteries. It's greaseless and doesn't sit around in a tub. You needn't stick it in the fridge, unless that's where the CDs are stored.

"Oleo" is a jazz standard that weaves through Ken Burns's documentary Jazz. It's immediately recognizable to those with even a cursory knowledge of music. Written by Sonny Rollins in 1954, "Oleo" is a cut on Bag's Groove: Miles Davis's classic album and one of the most important jazz recordings ever.

The song has been in circulation for over 55 years. And yet, it doesn't appear as a crossword clue. In puzzles, OLEO is invariably associated with the weird, non-dairy spread that doesn't melt. (Oh yeah, I can believe it's not butter!)

This is why I don't buy the old, unquestioned crosswordese myths. It's my job, as a puzzlemaker, to uncover new ways of cluing words like OLEO -- with an openness to the far corners of music, art, literature, classics.

Art Blakey said: "Jazz is known all over the world as an American musical art form, and that's it. No America, no jazz." The jazz OLEO is more than welcome in an American crossword puzzle.

OLEO . . . crosswordese? Hey, don't say that about my "Oleo."

Recognize this tune?

June 21, 2010: Inspired by the recommendations of Mr. Charles Mingus (see comments), I've added Phineas Newborn Jr.'s excellent "Oleo" to the play list. Thanks, Charles!

Oh, K!

2010-04-07T13:40:00.034-04:00

The truth is that many people set rules to keep from making decisions ~Mike Krzyzewski

Mike Krzyzewski, also known as Coach K, has been on my mind lately. He and I have a love/hate relationship. Even though he led the Duke Blue Devils to the NCAA championship on Monday night and made me cry (I rooted for my Butler Bulldogs!), Coach K still has a place in my heart.

I say this as someone with two-syllable Polish surname that, mercifully, caused almost no tongue-tied pronunciation issues for my elementary school teachers--Mrs. Williams, Mrs. Bradley, Mr. Johnson. I felt grateful for the short last name, especially after seeing what Billy Szczepanikowki and Katy Wyszczakowicz endured at the beginning of each school year. I still cringe in sympathy for them.

But . . . KRZYZEWSKI? Roll call must have been tough for young Mike. I like that Mike never changed his name and kept things intact -- preserving the 10 letters in their original, Slavic, unpronounceable and misspellable order. Polish is my first language, and even I have to resist the urge to throw in an extra vowel. Good one, Mike!

KRZYZEWSKI is the perfect crossword word, not only because it looks like an alphabet in crisis. There's more: the root, KRZYZ, is Polish for "cross." And the Polish word for crossword is KRZYZOWKA.

And so, if I were to make a Polish crossword for Mike, it would be a KRZYZEWSKI KRZYZOWKA. Very cost effective: no need to buy a vowel.

So how do you pronounce KRZYZEWSKI? The way Coach K tells you to pronounce it . . .

Zen and the Art of Etui Maintenance

2010-04-01T21:42:00.080-04:00

Jennifer Levitz's superb W all Street Journal story about needle-totin' American truckers burned up the stitching blogs this week. Women all over the world love these men who stitch while waiting on freight (like a 45,000 pounds of SPAM).

Guys, want to be a babe magnet? Start quilting, knitting and sewing. Women find this irresistible.

Aspiring constructors, take note: The men profiled in this Page One story would make excellent crossword puzzle constructors. They share three important characteristics with the very best puzzlemakers:

1. A curiosity about traditions outside of their own sphere (in this case, quilting/sewing/knitting); showing an interest in the tools of the trade. Showing tolerance towards other cultures.

2. An openness to learning new languages and terms of art; (here, the specialized language of stitching).

3. They ignore close-minded critics (every field has them). They have a deep passion for their art, learn from the experts in the field and keep on truckin'.

Honk if you're hauling an ETUI!

Big Ten-four. Over and out.

You've Got Mali

2010-03-29T16:05:00.011-04:00

A crossword clue for Mali invariably entails some serious traveling across the miles--usually from here to Timbuktu.

Until now . . .

Here comes Taylor MALI . . . slam poet, teacher, vocabularian with a deep respect for words. Author of What Learning Leaves. This 3-minute clip is awesome.

"In case you hadn't realized, it has somehow become uncool to sound
like you know what you're talking about . . . "

The Myth of Crosswordese

2010-03-20T18:47:00.105-04:00

Crosswordese.

After 20 years of constructing and listening to the discourse around "crosswordese," I still don't know what it is. A lifelong curiosity towards words has probably immunized me against hating EWER, which appears on just about every crosswordese list. If you visit a museum you'll see one in a still-life. Ewers are easy to find -- like the ones at Mugi, our neighborhood potters' studio, where they're made and sold.

Each puzzle has its own challenges and while I might avoid certain words from time to time, I don't see them as crosswordese. They're simply words that needn't be feared. The famous "Potent Potables" category on "Jeopardy!" is simply that -- a recurring category. It's not considered "Jeopardy-ese!"

I may not want to use IRE too often, but when Martin Ashwood-Smith clues it as "Pique condition?" . . . I'm reminded that well-written clues will diffuse anyone's ire towards familiar three-letter words. Good cluing, as consistently demonstrated in Sherry O. Blackard's work, makes puzzles glitter. Sherry's puzzles were a hit with solvers, men and women alike. Her grids aren't overly flashy, but the cluing takes takes standard vocabulary to a very high level.

If newspaper columnists were judged by the number of times they repeated certain words--like THE, AND, THEREFORE, ME, I . . . we'd wonder -- why? When ECRU appears in a newspaper article, it's simply a word. But if it's used in a puzzle on the same page of the same newspaper, it's isolated as crosswordese. How dare the crossword editor use ECRU twice in as many months!

More strangeness -- try finding a single definition. Here's one description:

"Crosswordese refers to hackneyed, obscure words or partial phrases, usually three, four and five letters long, used in crossword puzzles. These words are rarely, if ever, encountered in everyday conversation"

ECRU, again, is listed as an example. Well, it may be obscure to someone with a limited vocabulary. But if you've looked at paint chips or read the fashion pages within the last decade . . . you know it's a neutral color.

A lack of familiarity with a word doesn't mean it's obscure.

Google "crosswordese" and you'll find lots of word lists, chosen according to varying sets of criteria. Among the hundreds of words compiled by constructors and solvers, these generated more questions than answers:

ECRU, BALI: Oh . . . like the ecru-and-white lace Bali lingerie I picked up at Saks?

ETUDE: Oh . . . as in the Chopin Etudes my 15-year-old nephew has listened to and studied since he was 7?

SLOE, BOSC, GALA: Oh . . . as in the sloe berries, gala apples and bosc pears we bring home from the farmers' market?

SARI: Oh . . . like one of the lovely silken saris my neighbor wears?

STRAD, AMATI: Oh . . . like the violins, violas and cellos that have been in circulation since the 17th century--still seen, played and heard in concert?

IBIS, ISIS: Oh . . . as in the figures we saw in the Brooklyn Museum's Egyptian Wing?

OLAN: Oh . . . as in O-lan, a main character in Pearl S. Buck's Pulitzer-prize winning book, The Good Earth? Required reading in high school, college, Oprah's Book Club, or any study of great women writers.

SULA: Oh . . . as in Toni Morrison's novel Sula--apparent to those interested in more great women writers? (Morrison is a Nobel Laureate and a Pulitzer Prize winner.)

EVAN: Oh . . . as in the hunky skater Evan Lysacek, Gold Medalist at the Vancouver Olympics and the only reason I'll ever watch Dancing with the Stars?

ARIA, AIDA: [They're kidding, right?]

After reading the "crosswordese" websites, I was left with the impression that the most overused, hackneyed word in the discourse around crosswords is, well . . . "crosswordese." The list compilers viewed it as (a) bad, (b) a necessary evil, (c) cute, (d) neutral, (e) ugly, (f) all or none of the above.

I have good news for solvers. Crosswordese is a non-issue in puzzlemaking. It's a myth. Why? According to the crosswordese compilers, the offending language always seems to appear in other people's puzzles, never their own . . . except when it does, in which case it's called "fill."

"Crosswordese" doesn't appear in Jim Horne's database of puzzle answers, and so I'll add my definition:

Crosswordese (n.): The specialized vocabulary of puzzlemaking that, according to constructors, appears in puzzles made by other people. When the same vocabulary appears in their own puzzles, it is referred to as "fill" and is therefore justified.

This excellent PBS documentary, "The Audition," shows that the ARIA is a living art form, performed by young people and simply glorious.

It's Easy Being Green

2010-03-17T14:07:00.016-04:00

Grab your harp and your crossword puzzle and proceed to the Dublin House Bar and Tap Room on 79th Street. You can't miss it . . . just look for the flashing NEON harp.

It's NYC's first warm day of the year--perfect conditions for the St. Paddy's Day Parade.

Today everyone is Irish, especially crossword solvers who, for generations, have had second homes in ERIN and EIRE.

I'm of the opinion that EVA is the crossword diva. In addition to "Little Eva," the line-up of EVA's reads like the letterhead of a high-powered international law firm. Got TORT? Take your business to the law firm of Mendes, Herzigova, Longoria, Gabor & Peron.

But today belongs to EVA Cassidy who sings "Danny Boy" like an angel.

The Land of AMMAZZACAFFE

2010-03-16T19:43:00.018-04:00

While on the road . . . a few thoughts on Italy . . or Eat-aly.

I am an ITALOPHILE and yet I've never used this word in a puzzle, which surprises me.

Italy is a magical land. I so admire its people, language, paintings, architecture, opera, wine and cuisine. It is where olive oil is sold in beautifully-decorated cans that are works of art in themselves. And as if that's not enough, Italy has produced the finest violins, violas and cellos the world has known. Generations of luthiers have tried to copy Antonio Stradivari's violins--to no avail.

When Stradivari made his violins in the 17th century, he constructed the ultimate puzzle--a secret configuration of wood, varnish and ratios that has yet to be decoded.

May the Stradivari Code never be broken!

There's one more reason to admire Italians: they've been very good to crossword puzzle makers.

RAGU and PENNE? Molto BENE . . .

BASTA, that's enough PASTA . . .

AMMAZZACAFFE (after-dinner liqueur) . . . . what more is there to say?

BUON Appetito!

Overcoming Dictionary Resistance

2010-03-10T20:52:00.093-05:00

"It's de-lightful, it's de-lovely, I'm de-listing . . . "

Spring is nigh. Time to turn over a new leaf. I'm de-cluttering, downsizing the bookshelves and de-listing from on-line time vampires: the web of social networking (notworking?) groups and lists has gotten out of hand. Life is too short to spend on line, any more than is absolutely necessary.

This spontaneous de-listing was prompted by, among other things, Ammon Shea's book: Reading the OED: One Man, One Year, 21,730 Pages. Mr. Shea devoted one year of his life to reading the entire Oxford English Dictionary--all 20 volumes. And he survived! The story is set in this beautiful and engaging book.

That's where I discovered that there's a word for Mr. Know-It-All on the music blog who thinks that J.S. Bach is an overrated composer. As an experienced cluing professional, I had always called upon my razor-sharp descriptive skills in referring to this man as--"that guy who doesn't know what he's talking about."

But deep into Reading the OED I came across this word:

ultra-crepidarian (n.): one who offers advice or criticism in matters beyond his scope; an ignorant or presumptuous critic.

Hah! A word that perfectly describes the object. An ultra-crepidarian (U-C) is the polar opposite of Mr. Shea. The U-C never consults the dictionary. In the on-line puzzle world, a U-C has never heard of . . . well, just about everything.

The ultra-crepidarian assumes a relationship between a candy bar and The Gift of the Magi . . . but refuses to look up either.

My impatience with this personality type is not rooted in his lack of knowledge on a certain subject--but rather, his refusal to look up anything. Fortunately, most of us aren't that bad.

Reading the OED celebrates, on a grand scale, what we word lovers have done since day one of our reading lives--we look up one word in the dictionary and come away with five more. We love them like potato chips--you can't look up just one.

Today I searched for GOBY (freshwater fish) in my little desk dictionary. Soon I was swept along India's GODAVARI river, then up to Germany's GODESBERG, where a GO-DEVIL (log-carrying sled) took me to GOD'S ACRE (a churchyard). Collateral words, all on one page.

With great pleasure, I add two new definitions for crossword regulars SHEA and OED:

Ammon SHEA: vocabularian, puzzle soul brother, and author of Reading the OED. He joins SHEA butter and SHEA Stadium (now Citi Field). A butter, a stadium name, a person--a nice variety of choices for the constructor.
Ammon Shea's "Reading the ___" This is a new fill-in-the-blank clue for OED, according to Jim Horne's NYT clue database. Jolly good.

Solvers often ask: "Is it cheating if I look things up?" The answer is: No. "Cheating" is a myth peculiar to the crossword world, promulgated by ultra-crepidarians who want you to quit puzzle solving altogether. That high school bully who beat up the smart kids grew up to be the guy who makes you feel guilty for looking things up.

There's no such thing as cheating with a dictionary. There are no late-night booty calls. No Tuesday afternoon trysts at the Iroquois Hotel on 44th Street. Webster's Third doesn't care if your wife doesn't understand you.

If you choose not to consult reference materials and tough it out--I don't mind. Really, I don't.

But to graduate, say, from Wednesday to Thursday, it's necessary to isolate and learn Wednesday's problem answers. Focus on the 3- and 4-letter words. OONA, OLAN and OMOO will be back.

Solver's Takeaway: Look up just one word per puzzle (isolate the trickiest one) and I guarantee that your solving will improve exponentially.

For puzzlers with a recurring case of Dictionary Resistance, be gentle with yourself. No sharp movements, please! Slowly move away from the puzzle . . . and pick up a copy of Reading the OED. Word lovers will savor each chapter of Mr. Shea's book, as he makes his way from A to Zyxt.

If Mr. Shea can look up the entire OED in one year, we puzzle solvers can look up one puzzle word per day. We're all on the same page, right?

I don't own the 20-book OED collection . . . but as a member of the trade, maybe I can score a volume discount. I'm just sayin' . . .

Puzzle regular Anita O'Day sings "It's De-Lovely". . . it's delightful.

Pho Shizzle

2010-03-05T14:41:00.072-05:00

The chef at Momofuku Ssäm Bar had me at . . . Honeycrisp Apple Kimchi. How in the world did he know that my weekly grocery list included two staples: Honeycrisp apples and kimchi? As we perused the menu, my friend Jeremy knew what would happen next: I will be in a trance until further notice, meditating on the menu for puzzle-worthy words.

Jeremy, a real foodie, thinks I'm ridiculous for ordering the Market Greens with Xo Sauce, based solely on the XO.

Xo, what's wrong with that?

The pairing of Honeycrisps with kimchi is an unexpected delight. And that's why David Chang--the powerhouse behind the Momofuku family of restaurants on the Lower East Side--is a culinary master. His eclectic Asian/fusion/tapas-style menus had me mesmerized. These caught my eye:

Kusshi oysters
Bo Ssäm: whole butt, dozen oysters, kimchi, rice, bibb lettuce
Whipped lardo
Crack pie
Smuttynose Robust Porter (beer)

My admiration for Asian cuisine extends beyond the extraordinary food: it has nourished many a crossword grid. What would constructors do without their mies en place of: Lo MEIN, MU SHU Pork, TOFU, UNI, SAKE, NORI? And poor Colonel Sanders has long since signed an unconditional surrender on the puzzle front . . . his KFC is no match for General TSO'S Chicken.

Anthony Bourdain's love affair with Vietnamese cuisine, specifically PHO (traditional beef noodle soup in savory broth), made me think . . . it's time to put some PHO into my puzzles.

I googled to discover a network of pho-netically talented Vietnamese restaurant owners who love to pun. You can eat at restaurants like . . . Pho Sure, Pho Real, Pho Ho, Pho Ever and Pho Shizzle.

Solver's Takeaway: If you see a three-letter word clued as "Saigon bowlful" -- go PHO it.

So . . that's it? All this claptrap for a measly little word? Never will I underestimate the power of a 3-letter word. I once wrote a 140-word Sunday puzzle that hinged on a single, itty-bitty 3-letter term found in Webster's 3rd. In solving, as in constructing, I've learned my lesson the hard way--that every word counts. Especially in themed puzzles where you're telling a story through (a) symmetric themed entries, (b) plot and (c) consistency.

Future fantasy: to get CRACK PIE into a puzzle, without devolving into bathroom humor. Naturally, this calls for another research mission to Momofuku.

When I tell Jeremy about the noodle soup honor society called Pho Beta Kappa, he's had enough: "Phogeddaboudit!" Hey, David Chang--if you open up a Pho bar in Brooklyn, you've got a name.

How can one forget the first sip of a Momofuku Soju Grape Slushie? The cool, sweet memory summons forth this jazz standard, often appearing in crosswords as "Peel ___ Grape" -- the clue for MEA.

Diana KRALL . . . PHO sure!

Free Puzzle . . . Never a D'oh Moment

2010-02-26T21:25:00.082-05:00

You know you're watching too much Olympic coverage when you start referring to gold, silver and bronze medals as "hardware." At rehearsal yesterday, Gary the violinist accused me of sounding more like Bob Costas than just a sports fan.

Okay . . . so I'm a bit obsessed with the Vancouver games. But I also appreciate that winners are celebrated on podia all over the world . . . at venues like last weekend's American Crossword Puzzle Tournament in Brooklyn.

To those who think that physical stamina plays no part in brain games, consider the definition of sitzfleisch in the Oxford English Dictionary: "The ability to endure in some activity."

String players who've played back-to-back matinee/evening performances of The Marriage of Figaro have a deep-seated understanding of sitzfleisch. For some reason, Mozart omitted the rests in the violin, viola and cello parts. If musicians were paid by the note, Mozart's string players would be sitting pretty--right between Bill Gates and Warren Buffett on the Forbes billionaire list.

And so, with deep appreciation for mental and physical excellence, we congratulate the ACPT "A" Division finalists. They racked up some real hardware: Dan Feyer (Gold), Howard Barkin (Silver) and Anne Erdmann (Bronze). 1, 2, and 3 -- in non-"hardware" lingo.

And mad props to Joon Pahk, "B" division winner; and to "C" division winner Louis Lana. Excellent work! (JOON, PAHK and LANA are irresistible grid words.)

Further to an earlier post about puzzle theme inspiration: sometimes ideas are prompted by remarkable folks in one's own backyard. Anne Erdmann's wit and grace set this puzzle ("Twister") into motion. Anne needn't ever say or think 61-Across, but she brought the house down with her original answer. ACPT-ites will recognize the "acorn" or seed, but you don't have to be a tourney veteran to work the puzzle.

May the sitzfleisch be with you!

CITR 3 Twister

ANSWER GRID: Click here

The Muses: Virtue and Moir

2010-02-23T21:57:00.106-05:00

A reader asks: "How do you come up with puzzle ideas?"

I'm often asked this question and, darn it--I've yet to come up with a good answer. I don't know exactly how the ideas come, but it starts with the hunter/gatherer instinct. When it comes to searching for themes, I'm the Collyer Sister--obsessively hoarding words and seed phrases . . . impulsively scribbled on deposit slips, receipts and any writing surface that, of course, can't be readily accessed when needed.

Prior to my constructing days, I was a fast reader. My reading speed has since decelerated from allegro to adagio.

That's because I've turned into a real book worm--inching across the pages at glacial speed. I can't read a paragraph without stopping to highlight an interesting word, or to jot down puzzle theme ideas in the margins.

Then there's the indirect route--inspiration from other art forms. I'm fascinated by greatness of any kind, especially in sports. To that end, I've watched way too much late-night Olympic coverage.

But I've found two new muses! The Canadian ice dancing team of Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir; they won the Gold yesterday. Those simultaneous twizzle spins, the lifts, the mirrored skating patterns! I'm enchanted by their exquisite music-driven programs, and by their trust in each other. Every artistic element has been honed, polished and spun into gold.

I don't think there's an ice dancing puzzle brewing in my brain. But Virtue and Moir inspire creativity through a passion for their craft. Good art, no matter what it is, makes me want to work harder in my own little micro world.

Solver's Takeaway: It is an honor to add TESSA Virtue and Scott MOIR to the puzzle family. They're golden, they're young and poised for a long career on ice . . . and the puzzle grid.

The soundtrack for last night's free skate was a shortened version of the Adagietto from Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 5. This 2009 performance says it all: These two young artists were destined for Olympic Gold.

Can you watch this without crying? I can't. Well done, Virtue and Moir!

Free Puzzle and Last Chance Workout

2010-02-17T16:43:00.029-05:00

Crossword tournament time is nigh. Worthy competitors--it's time to relax and enjoy the fruits of your intense puzzle-solving training regimen. The United States Ski Team recommends these cool-down strategies prior to the big day:

Lightly bench press the 20-volume Oxford English Dictionary for no more than one hour per day.
Boost your self-confidence. Solve a puzzle written by someone who is not as smart as you are.
Print and solve the following puzzle to execute Strategy No. 2.

Good luck and have fun this weekend!

Crossword in the Raw- Opus 1 No. 2

Though you'll find a sprinkling of tournament-specific clues here and there, this puzzle is for all solvers. Enjoy!

*** ANSWER GRID: Click here

272 Words and Not A Pangram

2010-02-12T01:59:00.078-05:00

Though Abraham Lincoln disliked being called "Abe," I'm sure he's granted Executive Clemency to puzzlemakers who use this 3-letter moniker. When I come across ABE in a puzzle, I think of this great President who struggled to preserve a nation during a civil war. It's hard to imagine the burden that fell on Lincoln's shoulders.

He is praised for a folksy speaking manner, accessible to every demographic. Lincoln's speeches lack the fancy vocab and five-dollar words associated with slick politicians. And so, U.S. Government officials decided to honor this plainspoken President in the most logical way . . . they put him on the five dollar bill.

Lincoln's Address at Gettysburg is one of the most quoted speeches in American history. Like a beautifully-crafted puzzle, the Address has an architectural structure supported by repeated, accessible elements:

The word count is only 272 words -- roughly the size of two Sunday puzzle grids (140 words each).
There's a clear, consistent theme: Preservation of the Union.
There are three distinct parts: a reference to the past (Four score and seven years ago . . .); the present (We have come to dedicate a portion of that field . . . ); and the future (. . .government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.)
Lincoln never uses the personal pronoun "I" -- he repeatedly uses "We."
The Gettysburg Address is not a pangram; (click on the photo below for the full text.)

A pangram is an entity (a poem, a puzzle, a sentence) that contains all 26 letters of the alphabet. Lincoln spoke for three minutes at Gettysburg, yet his speech is not a pangram. He had every opportunity to use words containing A through Z--after all, he's not required to interlock letters, crossword-style. Easy, right?

In the 146 years since Lincoln wrote the Gettysburg Address, no one has noticed or cared that this 272-word speech is not a pangram.

Pangrams have no place in the literary world--unless one considers "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" a good read. This is why pangrams don't matter in puzzles. Lincoln chose words, not letters. Similarly, good puzzles are driven by words, not individual letters with high-Scrabble counts. It's a crossword puzzle.

A good puzzle with a strong theme and fill may naturally evolve into a pangram. Nothing wrong with that.

But watch out for pre-fab pangrams--crosswords overloaded with junky, obscure abbreviations (look for the J's, Q's, X's.) The result: unfair crossings that irritate solvers.

An unfortunate byproduct of puzzlemaking software, the Premediated CramGram is the canned spaghetti of puzzlemaking.

If I have the choice of using EXT or EAT in a puzzle (and I know that the "X" in EXT would make it a pangram which would trigger an unfair crossing), I'd use EAT, clued as "Take sides?" The "X" isn't "missing" from my puzzle. I chose not to use it.

Solver's Takeaway: If you dislike a puzzle but you're not sure why--check to see if it's a pangram. That might explain the unfair crossings and weird abbreviations. Compassionate solvers, not wanting to hurt a puzzle's feelings, might soft-pedal a bad solving experience by saying: "This puzzle is lame, but at least it's a pangram." My friends, it's probably lame because it's a pangram.

Puzzles don't earn "extra points" for being pangrams. I've worked with many editors across the puzzle markets--no one has ever asked me to make pangrams or puzzles with high-Scrabble-count words. Until there's a Pulitzer Prize category for authors who use the entire alphabet in the first 78 words of their novels, pangrams don't matter one iota in puzzlemaking.

And so, today we celebrate Abraham Lincoln's 201st birthday. Here you'll find Sam Waterston's recitation of the Gettysburg Address. It's a fitting birthday tribute to this remarkable President.

The soundtrack to this Lincoln photo montage is from Ken Burns's magnificent documentary, The Civil War. Jay Unger wrote the "Ashokan Farewell" for the film which first aired on PBS in 1990, but the haunting tune sounds like a period piece from Lincoln's time.

Thank you, Mr. President. Happy Birthday to you!

Where's The Love?

2010-02-08T22:17:00.014-05:00

The last thing I wanted to do, especially this close to Valentine's Day, was to insult Anteros, the Greek God of Unrequited Love.

For years, I've incorrectly referred to Alfred Gilbert's sculpture at London's Piccadilly Circus as Eros, the Greek god of love. The truth is, the cute winged figure is that of Anteros, the brother of Eros. I erred in an earlier blog essay, and in puzzles over the years. Ross, ever the gentleman, gently reminded me that even locals refer to the statue as Eros -- and that there was no need to worry.

But I am haunted by a mistake that might hinder the delivery of items from ProFlowers, The Vermont Teddy Bear Co., Tiffanys . . . or any number of guilt-gifts that Madison Avenue says I'm supposed to receive on Valentine's Day.

I'm not quite sure of Anteros's job description. Does he preside over failed romances? Or is his aim so bad that his arrows whiz past would-be lovers, leaving them unbitten by the love bug? This might explain the arrowhead-impaled trash cans and park benches of Riverside Park.

But this I know for sure: I need to make to amends and to explain why his brother EROS has 165 hits in Jim's Horne's database while ANTEROS appears . . . zero times. Never. Not once. Nada. Zilch. (Eek!)

[Allow me to speak directly to Anteros] . . . My dear Anteros: It's not personal. Your brother, EROS, has a four-letter name that's irresistible to puzzlemakers. It's that simple. There are fewer opportunities for seven-letter names like ANTEROS.

Had your parents, Ares and Aphrodite, shortened your name to ANTE, (a diminutive form of ANTEros), you'd be a crossword star with 235 hits in Jim's database -- Eros doesn't even come close to that record. I don't want to blame your parents, but you might want to mention this to your therapist.

Anteros, you're responsible for some of the finest art, poetry and music this side of Mount Olympus. Unrequited love has inspired novels (The Great Gatsby, Wuthering Heights) and opera (Tristan & Isolde, Eugene Onegin). Heartbroken songwriters have cried through songs like: "LAYLA" (Eric Clapton); "HELLO" (Lionel Ritchie) and "CREEP" (Radiohead) . . . think of the crossword fill you've provided!

Solver's Takeaway: If you're shy about identifying a mistake in a puzzle, don't be. Do the research and if you think you've caught a mistake, post your findings on a crossword blog. Even though that Piccadilly sculpture is referred to as EROS, the artist named it "Anteros" -- and that makes all the difference. I don't want to perpetuate the mistake in crosswords. Puzzle clues should be accurate, literate and respectful of all Gods of Unrequited Love. (Thank you, Ross, for saving the day.)

Whenever I need to apologize to a Greek god, I ask DJ Casey Kasem to play a long-distance dedication. Casey, would you play Love Stinks for my good friend Anteros of London's Piccadilly Circus?

String Theory

2010-02-04T20:21:00.036-05:00

"I don't like that man. I must get to know him better" ~Abraham Lincoln

There is no truth to the rumor that Johann Sebastian Bach's "Air on the G String" inspired the 1999 Sisqo hit, The Thong Song. Sisqo's inspiration came from deep within and is rooted in a scholarly overview of women's underwear. (But I do hear an "Eleanor Rigby" riff going on . . . )

Bach, on the other hand, had nothing to do with the ecdysiastic song title. "The Air on the G String" is a violin solo arranged by August Wilhelmj in the 19th century; it's based on the "Air" from Bach's Orchestral Suite No. 3, composed in the early 18th century.

Wilhelmj, a violinist, had a gimmick -- he'd play the melody solely on the g string, the lowest string on the violin. Why? The same type of reasoning led to deep-fried Oreos and frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Who knows why people do such things?

Mercifully, there are no 19th century YouTube videos to document Wilhelmj's unique one-string "sound." But good 'ol August was onto something big; his arrangement of the "Air" became a freestanding classic, widely interpreted by musicians from here to Agra and back -- on the jazz piano, the harmonica and the shredder.

Violins provide a lot of crossword puzzle fill: BOW, ROSIN, STRAD, AMATI, FHOLE . . . and ARCO.

Recently my neighbor Olga confronted me on the street, in broad daylight; she gave me some serious flak about ARCO, after I had clued it as a musical term ("With the bow, to a violist"). "What the hell is ARCO?" she yelled, from her idling, double-parked, gas-guzzling SUV. "I've never heard of ARCO. Do you just make things up?" She rolled up the window and roared away before I could respond.

Drive-by solvers make me sick.

I'm sure Olga has never heard of ARCO. But millions of musicians worldwide have been familiar with this term from day one of their musical studies. ARCO is to a string player what RBI is to a baseball player, or APSE is to an art historian.

When "ARCO" appears in a score, string players resume playing with the bow, usually after a pizzicato (plucked with the fingers) section. It's a term that cancels out the pizzicato direction -- akin to a "close quote" in writing.

Solver's Takeaway: President Lincoln's advice has solving applications: "I don't like that man. I must get to know him better, " he said. [I don't like that word. I must get to know it better.] One solver's obscurity is another solver's immediate reality. Does openmindedness make one a better solver? Yes.

"Air on the G String" is a popular wedding piece. You may have heard it at your own nuptials, or (even more likely) at a wedding you've paid for. Here's a concert rendition by Sarah Chang, the world-class violinist known for her superb BOW control. She plays a Guarneri del Gesu violin (it's right up there with an AMATI or STRAD). Look closely and you'll see traces of white ROSIN on the violin strings, just above the symmetrically-placed F-HOLES. The ARCO (playing with the bow) is understood, as there are no pizzicato passages in this piece.

The irony here is that Ms. Chang plays the entire piece on the upper strings, bypassing the G String altogether.

Free Puzzle Inside

2010-01-31T21:05:00.027-05:00

"Stop this unsavory sausage-making process . . . !"

That's a sound bite from John McCain, in a recent speech before Congress. When I first heard the words "unsavory" and "sausage-making", my heart skipped a beat -- was the Senator referring to puzzlemaking?

Public warnings about puzzlemaking can be traced to prescient political figures in the 19th century. Decades before the invention of the crossword, Otto von Bismarck cautioned: "Laws and crossword puzzles are like sausages. It is better not to see them being made."

Before Congress schedules hearings on Puzzlemaking Reform, here's a free puzzle constructed from my cubicle in the Puzzle Industrial Complex.

(I'm trying to figure out how to post an Across Lite version of the puzzle on Blogger. I'd appreciate suggestions from those who've done so. . . . Update: Amy and Joon have advised. Thanks! Answer Grid is posted below)
Crossword in the Raw No. 1

*****ANSWERS: Click here

I Came, I Saw, iPad

2010-01-27T15:29:00.025-05:00

Journalists have been going to town with Moses/Steve Jobs wordplay today. Both men are associated with nonpharmaceutical-grade tablets. Hours ago, Jobs rolled out Apple's new tablet computer, the iPad.

Steve has figured out the crossword puzzle thing. Sony's 7-letter WALKMAN seldom appears in crosswords: only once in New York Times puzzles since 1993, according to Jim Horne's superb NYT puzzle database. But Steve's 4-letter IPOD fits perfectly into every constructor's pocket protector -- IPOD (introduced in 2001) shows up 25 times as an answer.

As a new crossword term, the IPAD adds value to a very limited 4-letter combination that inclues grid regulars IPOD and IHAD. Be still my heart. It takes so little to make a constructor's day. Steve, you're the apple of my eye.

Earlier today, super-smart Steve unveiled the new tablet before an audience of puzzlemakers. The wolf whistles and thunderous applause occured seconds after the sweaty-palmed constructors added IPAD to their wordlists: