2010 chart-topper for Ke$ha / SUN 4-10-11 / Italian sportswear name / Dammed river in North Carolina / Burial site early Scottish kings

Constructor: Paula Gamache

Relative difficulty: Medium

THEME: "All-Pro" — "FOR" is added (as a prefix) to words in familiar phrases, creating wacky phrases, which are clued wackily ("?"-style)


Word of the Day: ELLESSE (70A: Italian sportswear name) —

Ellesse is a sports apparel company founded in Italy in 1959. // Ellesse was founded by Leonardo Servadio in Perugia in 1959. The name Ellesse derives from the initials of Servadio's name, "L.S." // Ellesse grew in popularity during the 1970s as a producer of skiwear such as quilted jackets and ski pants. In 1979, Ellesse's Jet Pant, a ski pant featuring padded knees and a wide lower leg to fit around a ski boot, was included in an event at the Pompidou Centre in Paris celebrating Italian design. // Another sport with which Ellesse has been closely associated since its early years is tennis. The Ellesse logo references the form of a tennis ball with the shape of the tips of a pair of skis. (wikipedia)

• • •

Well, the theme is a dud, but if you can get past that, there's some pretty nice stuff in this puzzle. Started out really kind of liking the puzzle, with the cool and pop-culturey MCFLY (1D: "Back to the Future" family name) and "TIK-TOK" (12D: 2010 chart-topper for Ke$ha), the lovely LORGNETTE (26A: Operagoer's accessory), and the threat that someone might BACKSTAB ARISTIDE (timely, given that he has recently returned to Haiti from exile in South Africa) (7A: Betray, in a way + 21A: Haiti's first democratically elected president). But then there was FORGO COLD TURKEY. I was looking for the complexity, the trick, the ... Sunday Something that was holding this baby together. But one more theme answer in, and I realized that it's just FOR. Added FOR-s. And a bunch of barely sensible wacky answers. MONDO letdown (87A: Extremely, in 1970s slang). But the non-theme stuff continued not to disappoint, for the most part. I actually found this puzzle on the tough side for a Sunday, though I thought that might end up being offset by the pretty easy theme (hence the mere "Medium" rating).



Theme answers:

• 23A: Skip Thanksgiving leftovers? (FORGO COLD TURKEY)
  
• 30A: Say "No," "Never" and "Uh-uh"? (DO ONE'S FORBIDDING)
  
• 47A: Plea for immediate absolution? (FORGIVE US THIS DAY)
  
• 63A: Like food that's acceptable to cattle? (FORAGE APPROPRIATE)
  
• 79A: Memorable theatrical performance? (PLAY HARD TO FORGET)
  
• 93A: Abstain happily? (GRIN AND FORBEAR IT)
  
• 108A: Is well-endowed? (CARRIES A FORTUNE)
  

OK, so there was a significant BLOC of crosswordese, but at least it was pretty well spread out. ELON ELEE ELIO, as a trio, almost overcome the ugliness they possess individually (5D: Southern university that shares its name with a biblical judge + 34A: Mrs. Robert ___ (Mary Custis) + 37A: Chacon of the 1960s Mets). In other E-word news, I once again confused EBOLA and EBOLI (17D: Place in a Carlo Levi memoir), and I completely blanked on ELLESSE, despite that name's being very familiar from my tennis-playing days in the 80s. I associate that brand with Chris Evert more than anyone else. Vintage tennis returned again with Guillermo VILAS (48D: Tennis's 1977 U.S. Open champ), whom I always used to confuse with VITAS Gerulitis. Let's see, what else? There was some random French I didn't know (PIAF), the return of a name I used to not know but now know (STANS), a South Pacific place that I know about only because I nearly put it in a grid once but ultimately couldn't go through with it because it was so godawful (LAE), an arcane word I've heard of but couldn't have defined for you (BELAY; 33D: Ignore, imperatively) ... but in the end it was all redeemed and then some by BOBO (39D: Mr. Burns's teddy bear on "The Simpsons"). That bear has an entire episode dedicated to it—an amazing, extended "Citizen Kane" parody (with BOBO as "Rosebud"). Genius.

Apropos of nothing, I am listening to metal while I write, and it is strangely energizing without being lyrically distracting. I eschewed metal for the longest time because it sounded like something that only the scariest of white people listen to (and something that a guy who uses words like "eschew" would not listen to), but I'm coming around... well, a little. I mean, I discovered the band (Red Fang) via NPR (which I do *not* eschew), so how scary can it be?

Bullets:

• 25A: Early spring bloomers (CROCI) — I actually used this word in conversation today. They're coming up in our front yard.

• 28A: Longfellow's words before "O Ship of State!" ("SAIL ON") — I like this song.

• 75A: Burial site of early Scottish kings (IONA) — ugh, IONE fail! Speaking of Scottish, though: my man James HOGG! I read "The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner" for three (3!) different classes when I studied in Edinburgh in '89 (4D: Scottish poet James Known as "The Ettrick Shepherd").
  
• 113A: Dammed river in North Carolina (PEE DEE) — strangely, a gimme. I mean, I didn't know it know it, but it's the first thing I thought of—crosswordy river in the Carolinas (often used as a non-urine clue for PEE).
• 115A: Region conquered by Philip II of Macedon (THESSALY) — wonder if the region is as pretty as it sounds. I've never been.
  
• 7D: Sled dog with a statue in New York's Central Park (BALTO) — are there other Central Parks we might confuse with New York's? Seems a weird qualifier, esp. for the *NYT* puzzle.
  
• 72D: "___ dignus" (Latin motto) ("ESTO") — the language has a motto? Whose motto? Just ... *a* motto? No matter how many times I look at this clue, no matter what I do, even now, I see only "dingus."
  
• 84D: Bear vis-à-vis the woods, e.g. (DENIZEN) — surely Paula and/or Will knew that SHITTER fits perfectly. Nice work. [Slow clap]
  

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]

Winner of first Nobel Prize in Physics 1901 / TUE 2-15-11 / Sainted ninth-century pope / Sorority members Ann-Margaret Laura Bush

Constructor: Paula Gamache

Relative difficulty: Medium

THEME: Seen it... — Theme answers begin with words that are synonyms of "ordinary": COMMON, AVERAGE, USUAL, REGULAR


Word of the Day: Wilhelm ROENTGEN (10D: Winner of the first Nobel Prize in Physics, 1901) —

Wilhelm Conrad Röntgen (27 March 1845 – 10 February 1923) was a German physicist, who, on 8 November 1895, produced and detected electromagnetic radiation in a wavelength range today known as X-rays or Röntgen rays, an achievement that earned him the first Nobel Prize in Physics in 1901. (wikipedia)

• • •

Average. Yes, that about says it all. Clean and ordinary in most every way except for the surprising ROENTGEN, which is fantastic. AVERAGE HEIGHT is the weakest of the bunch (not nearly as coherent and snappy a phrase as the others), but it's not bad, just as LEO IV is as bad as it gets in the fill (19D: Sainted ninth-century pope), and it's not so bad either. Strangely, my biggest hang-ups (requiring all the crosses) were little words: DIET (36A: Plan the changes courses) and LOAD (56A: Mutual fund charge). Also, I have never heard of an EXOsphere (50A: Prefix with sphere), and so I wrote in ECO. Sadly, that was the very last letter I filled in, so my first thought was "crud, I've got a mistake somewhere." Thankfully, my mistake was right there, the first place I looked—the EXO cross, LEX (44D: Comics villain ___ Luthor).


Theme answers:

• 17A: Something everybody is aware of (COMMON KNOWLEDGE)
  
• 26A: It's not very short and not very tall (AVERAGE HEIGHT)
  
• 46A: They may be rounded up after a crime, with "the" (USUAL SUSPECTS)
  
• 60A: Cheapest choice at the pump (REGULAR GASOLINE)
  

It's an early morning for me, so I'm out of here. See you tomorrow.

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]

Ancient amulet inscription / SAT 12-11-10 / What Tito shows in opera / Kodak film used surveillance / Backwoods sibs / Calais closet

Constructor: Paula Gamache

Relative difficulty: Easy-Medium

THEME: none


Word of the Day: ABRAXAS (28A: Ancient amulet inscription) —

The word Abrasax (Gk. ΑΒΡΑΣΑΞ, which is far more common in the sources than the variant form Abraxas, ΑΒΡΑΞΑΣ) was a word of mystic meaning in the system of the Gnostic Basilides, being there applied to the “Great Archon” (Gk., megas archōn), the princeps of the 365 spheres (Gk., ouranoi). In Gnostic cosmology, the 7 letters spelling its name represent each of the 7 classic planets—Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. // The word is found in Gnostic texts such as the Holy Book of the Great Invisible Spirit, and also appears in the Greek Magical Papyri. It was engraved on certain antique gemstones, called on that account Abraxas stones, which were used as amulets or charms. As the initial spelling on stones was 'Abrasax' (Αβρασαξ), the spelling of 'Abraxas' seen today probably originates in the confusion made between the Greek letters Sigma and Xi in the Latin transliteration. The word may be related to Abracadabra, although other explanations exist. // There are similarities and differences between such figures in reports about Basilides' teaching, ancient Gnostic texts, the larger Greco-Roman magical traditions, and modern magical and esoteric writings. Opinions abound on Abraxas, who in recent centuries has been claimed to be both an Egyptian god and a demon. The Swiss Psychologist Carl Jung wrote a short Gnostic treatise in 1916 called The Seven Sermons to the Dead, which called Abraxas a God higher than the Christian God and Devil, that combines all opposites into one Being. (wikipedia)

• • •

Piece of cake, especially compared to yesterday's painfest. Any time I finish a Saturday in under 10, it's an Easy day—I think it played easier for me than it will for most, hence "Easy-Medium." I benefited from hitting on BUZZER BEATER (6D: Thrilling hoops shot) very early, with just the initial "B" in place. That opened things right up. Started with CDC / CTS, but that led nowhere so I moved over and guessed BRERS (4D: Backwoods sibs) / BEBES and that gave me BUZZER BEATER and I was off and running, with no real sticking points the rest of the way.



The alliterative BUZZER BEATER and MAIN MAN are the real highlights of this grid. The rest is fairly smooth, though somewhat over-reliant on esoterica — by which I mean CLEMENZA (17A: What Tito shows, in opera), ABRAXAS, and ASTATINE (54A: Element between polonium and radon on the periodic table) ... and perhaps TMAX (38A: Kodak film used in surveillance), though I picked that up entirely from crosses, no problem. I wonder if people found 20D: "The die is cast," to Caesar (ALEA JACTA EST) to be esoteric. It's a familiar phrase to me, but I think that's just because I've seen ALEA clued in relation to the phrase in several crosswords before. My initial inclination was ALIA LACTA EST ... so, you know, ballpark. Very lucky to remember that "J" because otherwise, that JOB / GAB / ABRAXAS nexus might have been my undoing. As it was, I was half-guessing (never having heard of ABRAXAS before ... that I can remember ... that convoluted wikipedia entry, above, isn't likely to make it stick). But I was helped in that same section by the lovely XOXO. Hey, I wonder who the first person was to use XOXO in a NYT grid. I wonder ... [squiggly picture / flashback sequence] ...



I think my favorite part of the puzzle is the way it ends—with an undoubtedly affectionate nod to me (52D: Playmate for Spot).

Bullets:

• 16A: Setting of muchas islas (OCÉANO) — only trouble here was whether the word was masculine of feminine. NO SALE cleared that up (13D: Register message).
  
• 24A: Comic with the 1955 album "At Sunset" (SAHL) — '50s comic in four letters shouldn't give a regular solver any problems.
  
• 26A: ___-robe (Calais closet) (GARDE) — toughie if you don't know French. Seven years of French here and never heard of GARDE-robe, but the crosses were easy and I could infer the "G."
  
• 42A: Quinceañera treat (TACO) — There's an awful lot of foreign words in this puzzle. By which I do not, in this case, mean TACO. I mean "Quinceañera." And ESTOS EINE OCHO BEBE OCÉANO GARDE ZEIT ALEA JACTA EST
  
• 57A: Matt Dillon title role of 1982 (TEX) — Right over the plate of my adolescence. No problem.

• 36D: Tiger Balm ingredient (MENTHOL) — I ... don't know what this is. Some kind of heat rub.
  
• 41D: Foot-washing ceremony (MAUNDY) — I knew about MAUNDY Thursday (just after Fat Tuesday), but I never bothered to ask what the hell "MAUNDY" meant.
  
• 46D: 1983 Joel Schumacher film ("D.C. CAB") — this took a bit of thought, as I had -C--B and could think (at first) only of SCRUB. Which is not a film. That I know of.
  
• 48D: Storied slacker (HARE) — gimme.
• 49D: Analog oscilloscope parts: Abbr. (CRTS) — an abbrev. I've seen but don't know the meaning of. Aha. Cathode ray tubes. Now ... what's an oscilloscope?
  

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]

Card game popular in Germany / TUE 10-5-10 / Van Gogh locale / Malfoy's look / Cleavage-revealing dress feature / French brainchild

Constructor: Paula Gamache

Relative difficulty: Medium

THEME: "BYE BYE MISS AMERICAN PIE" — ends of the theme answers form this lyric by DON MCLEAN (62A: Singer of the lyric formed by the ends of the answers to the four starred clues)


Word of the Day: EARLE Combs (38D: Hall-of-Famer Combs who played with Gehrig and Ruth) —

Earle Bryan Combs (May 14, 1899 – July 21, 1976) was an American professional baseball player, who played his entire career for the New York Yankees (1924‑1935). Combs batted leadoff and played center field on the Yankees' fabled 1927 team (often referred to as Murderers' Row). He is one of six players on that team who have been inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame; the other five are Waite Hoyt, Herb Pennock, Tony Lazzeri, Lou Gehrig, and Babe Ruth. (wikipedia)

• • •

Well, that's the lyric, but with the exception of MISS, those lyric words aren't exactly buried or hidden or repurposed, as they should be, ideally, in a theme like this. LAT ran a puzzle with this exact type of theme yesterday, where *first* words of theme answers formed the phrase "PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY SANDWICH." But in that puzzle, the theme answers crackled a bit, where here, they just fall flat. SAY 'BYE BYE' is phenomenally weak, as BYE BYE appears as itself, inside a contrived phrase ("GO BYE BYE" at least has a baby talk angle ... "BYE BYE LOVE" would have added much-needed bounce—I wonder if there weren't much better answers available if the words had appeared at the beginning of the phrases). In the end, it's not a bad puzzle—perfectly adequate—it's just not very thoughtful or imaginative at the level of the theme answers. AFRICAN-AMERICAN just lies there (the same way CENTRAL AMERICAN would). Why not "THE UGLY AMERICAN?" "CUTEY PIE?" "HONEY PIE?" Something to give the answers some damned life...

Theme answers:

• 17A: *Bid adieu, informally (SAY 'BYE BYE')
  
• 26A: *Failure by a narrow margin (NEAR MISS)
  
• 40A: *Like Oprah Winfrey and Michael Jordan (AFRICAN-AMERICAN)
  
• 51A: *It's often ordered à la mode (APPLE PIE)

NO TASTE is a pretty cruddy answer, requiring a really awkward clue (26D: Characteristic of bland food and bad dressers). "Characteristic" is a noun, but "NO TASTE" ... well, I guess it's nominal, but ugh. BAD TASTE = good phrase, NO TASTE = wobbly. This and EARLE and the strange clue on EPITOMES (42D: Abstracts) were the only sticking points, and they were pretty minor. Really like SCOOP NECK (37D: Cleavage-revealing dress feature). Otherwise, happy to move on to Wednesday (and I actually really like the song in question, still, despite my massive overexposure to it as a kid).



Bullets:

• 57A: 'Do that one would rarely wear a hat with ('FRO) — yo, somebody forgot to tell Oscar Gamble.

• 29A: Gorilla famously taught to use sign language (KOKO) — Acc. to wikipedia, "Koko is short for the name Hanabiko (花火子, lit. "fireworks child"^?) in Japanese, a reference to her date of birth, the Fourth of July." Also, she seems to be still alive at nearly 40.
  
• 45A: Where a pear's seeds are (CORE) — read this as "WHAT a pear's seeds are"; misreads are a speed-solving hazard.
  
• 58A: Online portal since Windows 95 was launched (MSN) — didn't know the portal was tied to the OS.
  
• 67A: French brainchild (IDÉE) — BRIE also fits. It's not a good fit, but it is a good brainchild.
  
• 71A: Card game popular in Germany (SKAT) — I did not know that.
  
• 2D: Never-ratified women-related measure, for short (E.R.A.) — wow, that is one long, awkwardly phrased way of cluing the most common crossword word in existence.
  
• 12D: Van Gogh locale (ARLES) — it's always ARLES, which has a lot of useful letters in a very unusual (for English) combination.
  
• 39D: Malfoy's look, in the Harry Potter books (SNEER) — interesting SNEER clue. Must be good, because I got it instantly.
  
• 56D: No enrollees at Smith College (MALES) — this is like the NO TASTE cluing problem in reverse. Awkward incorporation of "No." "No enrollees" = "MALES." Further, I am no fan of calling human beings MALES and FEMALES — unless you are studying them scientifically, they are MEN and WOMEN. MALES has the ... benefit? ... of transcending age (i.e. includes children and adults), but it's awkward and (often) unnecessarily clinical-sounding.
  

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]

Smear with wax old-style / SUN 9-12-10 / What Fels-Naptha banished old ads / Alderaan royal / Watts who hosted 1990s talk show / Swiftian brute

Constructor: Paula Gamache

Relative difficulty: Challenging

THEME: "IT'S GOING TO COST YOU" — ... an ARM and a LEG (a rebus puzzle with five ARM squares in the western section and five LEG squares in the eastern)


Word of the Day: CERE (42D: Smear with wax, old-style) —

tr.v., cered, cer·ing, ceres.
To wrap in or as if in cerecloth.*

[Middle English ceren, ciren, from Old French cirer, to cover with wax, from Latin cērāre. See cerate.]

*Cerecloth

n.
Cloth coated with wax, formerly used for wrapping the dead. (answers.com)

• • •

The theme, I liked, though I'm really surprised it hasn't been done before. I know I've seen a CATs and DOGs puzzle, and I could've sworn I'd seen an ARM and LEG puzzle, but apparently not [whoops, spoke too soon: Thursday, Apr. 26, 2007]. Theme leads into some interesting (DOUBLE-GLAZED) and not so interesting (CALENDAR MONTHS) territory. I enjoyed wrestling with a Sunday puzzle (for once) — most Sundays of late have been Tues/Wed level rather than the Thurs level they're supposed to be — but in the end, today, I found too much of the fill slightly ridiculous, and the cluing just a little SMARMy. At least half a dozen French words/places/ideas ... literary stuff that even this literary Ph.D. found a little recherché (now there's a pretentious word), e.g. MONODRAMA (62A: Beckett's "Krapp's Last Tape," e.g.), MALLARMÉ (62D: "L'Après-midi d'un faune" poet Stéphane ___), etc. ... but mainly it's the preponderance of Absurd proper nouns. I mean, name after name I'd simply never heard of. Some, I should have known (e.g. MBEKI, 67A: Mandela's presidential successor), but some ... let's start in the NE, where the second-most ridiculous clue of the puzzle resides: 25A: What Fels-Naptha banished, in old ads. Fels-Naptha? Fels ... Naptha? I could not design a more unlikely, or worse name than that. Is it a brand? A person? What kind of ads? How old? Must be Really old. Whoa, it seems to still exist. But even if I'd known what it was, I certainly had no way of knowing this alleged slogan. I figured Fels-Naptha was a hair dye—what else could TATTLE-TALE GRAY refer to? (just simple dinginess, I guess). But it appears to be a bar laundry soap. And this is a *theme* answer? Maybe you are all big Fels-Naptha users, I don't know. But the intersection of this utterly unheard-of slogan and "RHYE" (!?!??!), as well as ESAS (which could easily have been ESOS): just ugh. Whole section needs to be lashed (not UNLASHed, whatever the hell that is).

Worse, however, was the SW, where I finished with a blank square. Didn't even bother guessing. See, I would've quit this puzzle up at TATTLE-TALE GRAY / "RHYE" (18D: "Seven Seas of ___" (early Queen hit)) (in this puzzle, even the Queen hits are old) if I hadn't had to blog it. By the very end, I just called it quits and looked up the so-called adventure writer guy: looks like we've got FENN (109D: George Manville ___, English adventure writer). And SENNAS (122A: Some flowering shrubs). Those are "flowering?" I think of SENNA as a laxative. Not sure SENNAS would have occurred to me (if I'd bothered thinking/guessing). I was probably willing to entertain a large handful of letters in that "N" spot. But I didn't even care enough to be upset at that point. I was just glad to be done. One great consolation was getting raving email from a friend who was less happy than I was with this puzzle. Again, the basic idea is cute, and there are some winning answers here and there, but the corners were just too much Fail for me. Oh, and too many partials with "A" (at least four ... — would've been five but they went a different route on the SETA clue (87A: Botanical bristle).

Big structural plusses — ARMs and LEGs always stretch across two words, all Across theme answers exhibit rotational symmetry, and all ARMs are on one side of grid, all LEGs on the other. Nice work there.

Theme answers:

• TATTLE-TALE GRAY / ALLEGE
  
• BEAR MARKET / "STAR MAN" (3D: David Bowie single with the lyric "If we can sparkle he may land tonight") — that's where I picked up the rebus...

• REGULAR MEALS / CHARMED
  
• DOUBLE-GLAZED (59A: Like some doughnuts and windows) / PHLEGM (Mmm, double-glazed phlegm...)
  
• SOLAR MASS (61A: Unit of star measurement)/ ALARMS
  
• BUBBLE GUM / ELEGIES
  
• WAR MEMORIALS (77A: Arc de Triomphe and Nelson's Column) / ARMANI
  
• MIDDLE GROUND / ALLEGRA
  
• CALENDAR MONTHS (114A: April, May and June) / SMARM (you know what my favorite kind of months are? CALENDAR MONTHS. You don't want to mess around with any of those months that aren't in calendars. Really unreliable.) ("Lousy SMARCH weather!")

• IDLE GOSSIP / LEGAL
  

Bullets:

• 4A: Electronic music pioneer Robert (MOOG) — of synthesizer fame
  
• 19A: Cry after poor service? (LET) — boo! Poor service = fault or double fault. A LET is just a do-over. "Poor?" No.
  
• 20A: River with the Reichenbach Falls (AARE) — crosswordiest river of all.

• 27A: Where N.B.A. coach Rick Pitino played college ball (U. MASS) — guessed it, based on fact it was "U" something and I knew Pitino had coached in Boston.
  
• 28A: Relating to songbirds (OSCINE) — strange: this is an odd word, but one I didn't even blink at. Must've seen it in xwords before.
  
• 31A: French ice cream flavorer (MENTHE) — eat it on the SAONE while you sip your OAK-flavored Chardonnay, why don't you?
  
• 48A: Heavenly body that humans will never set foot on (GAS PLANET) — ooh, this I like. A lot.
  
• 52A: Alderaan royal (LEIA) — Yeah, that'll get googled.
  
• 55A: Alternatively, in Internet lingo (OTOH) — on the other hand...
  
• 81A: Bet in craps (PASS LINE) — Noooooo idea. Craps tends to conflict with my MONODRAMA-watching and MALLARMÉ-reading.
  
• 84A: Company that introduced NutraSweet (SEARLE) — like OSCINE, a word I know without knowing why. SEARLE sounds like a mattress brand.
  
• 101A: Mezzanotte is one (ORA) — and now we're just in a different part of Europe. So ... "midnight" is an "hour." OK.
  
• 118A: Subject of the 2008 biography "Somebody" (BRANDO) — four proper nouns, three of which I've never heard of ... you cross them all with BRANDO and *this* is how you clue him??? I think this corner wants me to hate it.
  
• 125A: Like a three-card monte player (SLY) — I think of the player as the pigeon, i.e. the idiot who's getting conned. The non-SLY one.
  
• 38D: Kyushu volcano (ASO) — Now *that* is how you clue ASO! [Also, I cannot believe there is a MTAPO and a MTASO out there. Yikes.]
  
• 40D: "Do I dare to ___ peach?" ("EAT A") — I dared to eat two today. Absolutely perfect. The best piece(s) of fruit I've had all year.
  
• 41D: Rinkitink ___" (L. Frank Baum book) ("IN OZ") — please look at that section. The Downs are: Three partials and *$&#ing CERE!? (42D: Smear with wax, old-style). Painful (P.S. that CERE clue is one of my all-time "favorites"—beats the Fels-Naptha clue hands-down. It also raises the important question: what is the hip, new, modern word for smearing something in wax?)
  
• 44D: Hooch holder at a ballgame (FLASK) — must be some context for "ballgame" that I don't get. I've been to ballgames, and guys just get hammered on beer and more beer.
  
• 58D: Swiftian brute (YAHOO) — yeah, that'll get googled.
  
• 75D: He taught Mowgli the law of the jungle (BALOO) — after AKELA, I'm out of "Jungle Book" characters.
  
• 89D: Watts who hosted a 1990s talk show (ROLONDA) — I remember the 90s, vaguely, but I do NOT remember this person. She headlines a quartet of yuck names down there in the SW. OLAN I've heard of (all too often), but FENN, ROLONDA, and ERDOS (98D: Mathematician Paul)? Hell no. "But ERDOS is an eminent..." Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. He'd have been fine in a less obscure-name-drenched portion of the puzzle.
  

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]

Nickelodeon's parent company / TUE 8-31-10 / Cremona craftsman / Flier with 10-foot wingspan / Start of either syllable in ginger

Constructor: Paula Gamache and Ed Stein

Relative difficulty: Medium

THEME: Crossing Twins* — words that are spelled the same but pronounced differently intersect at five different points in the grid*

*unless I'm wrong, pronunciation is not at issue, and they're really just words that are spelled the same but mean different things — central crossing is the big question mark

*now I'm told it's just noun/verb pairs, with pronunciation being a non-issue. That seems correct. Not exciting, or interesting, but correct.


Word of the Day: VIGGO Mortensen (51D: "The Road" star Mortensen) —

Viggo Peter Mortensen, Jr. (born October 20, 1958) is a Danish actor, poet, musician, photographer and painter. He is best known for his roles as Aragorn in Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings film trilogy, Tom Stall in David Cronenberg's A History of Violence, and his Academy Award-nominated role as Nikolai Luzhin in Cronenberg's Eastern Promises. He also starred in the film adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's novel The Road, as "The Man". (wikipedia)

• • •

I am simply assuming that the golf meaning of ADDRESS is pronounced with the emphasis on the first syllable. I don't play, and can't imagine someone's saying the word. [first reply from a friend re: the two ADDRESSes: "No, they're pronounced the same. Addressing the ball is like addressing the audience. Stress on the second syllable." I hope s/he is wrong, because if this is so, the theme is *&^ed] The other crosses all feature different pronunciations, so I assume that central one does too. Can't say I cared for this one much. Like it more once I caught on to the different pronunciation angle, but still — once you get the gimmick (right away, likely), that's a lot of real estate you can fill in with very little effort. The easiness was offset for me today by a couple of missteps — DROPS for DRAMS (40D: Small amounts) and VEEGO for VIGGO (51D: "The Road" star Mortensen). But still, the only interest here is the theme — the rest is dull to dreadful. Look at the north. I have never seen so many abbrev. crammed in such a tiny section. ESTH., PFCS, TLC, and HOSP. That's a train wreck. The rest of the grid—except NCAAS (48A: Big tournaments for university teams, informally), yuck—is OK, if loaded with a lot of short and overly familiar fill. Hard to generate much sizzle when your longest entry is seven letters (and five of your answers are simply duplicated).

Theme answers:

• EXPLOIT (20A: Bit of derring-do + 4D: Take advantage of)
  
• ADDRESS (25D: Prepare to drive, as a golf ball + 39A: Lincoln's famous one was just 272 words)
  
• PRESENT (10D: Show, in a show-and-tell + 22A: Here and now)
  
• INCENSE (56A: Aromatic sticks + 44D: Make boiling mad)
  
• CONSOLE (47D: Say "There, there" to, say + 58A: Home entertainment centerpiece)
  

Write-ups might get a little shorter, especially on Tuesdays and Thursdays, as school starts up for me again this week. Luckily, I don't have much else to say today, except that ODETTE (26A: "Swan Lake" swan) seems an oddly esoteric word for a Tuesday—but I've seen it in puzzles enough that it didn't present a problem at all.

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]

Composer Shostakovich / TUE 8-3-10 / Small craft with launching tubes / "Sweet" bloomer

Constructor: Paula Gamache

Relative difficulty: I don't know from difficulty, but felt pretty smooth to me. Smooth is good.

THEME: Attendees at '70's key parties, or Things that Swing. But you knew that, because you got 56A, which made my typing it out yet again kind of pointless. Just look up an inch or two on your screen, and there it is.

Word of the Day: Moon pie (51A: Chocolate coated marshmallow sandwich)

The MoonPie brand moon pie or MoonPie is a pastry which consists of two round graham cracker cookies, with marshmallow filling in the center, dipped in chocolate or other flavors. The traditional pie is about the diameter of a hockey puck.

I listened to a six year old tell me of the glory that is a mallomar [1:30AM edit: S'Mores you idiot, the kid was talking about S'mores] just this past Sunday, made by hand from the three basic food groups (Graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate), then melted over an open camp fire with his father. Apparently, some things in life are perfect. I'm suspecting a Moon Pie is less so, as I studiously try to avoid pastries which contain the phrase "hockey puck" in their description. We all make our own life choices, that's one of mine.

Zeke here, filling in for a vacationing Rex.

Words fail to express how much I really wanted a seriously subpar puzzle today. See, my schtick is sardonic humor, bordering on snottiness. I'm good at it, I revel in it. I worried so much about doing this since Rex gave me the invite that I prepackaged rants which would have made Bierce proud, but I get this puzzle to talk about. One of these rants had an extended treatise on how Ted Williams' head, disembodied and languishing in a cryogenic state with tuna cans frozen to his forehead serves as a metaphor for one of my least favorite categories of fill. I have this in my back pocket, and I have this puzzle to talk about? That when I was draft eligible I was in fact ONEA, but that there was no way was I "Ready to Serve". Snap, take that Paula! Yup, that will keep each of you rolling in the aisles this morning. For your own sake, try to keep it down if you're reading this at the office.

I've no objective criteria by which to judge difficulty, I just go by the feel of how consistent the puzzle is, does it flow. There were a few hiccups along the way, as PT BOAT kind of felt like "Please go away" on the welcome mat that is, or should be, 1A/1D, but when that's the extent of your complaints, you have no complaints.

Theme Entries

• 17A: They're Up (BASEBALL BATTERS)
• 31A: Some Wall Street Journal Charts (STOCK PRICES)
• 35A: They're waiting to be persuaded (UNDECIDED VOTERS)
• 43A: Western Entrances (SALOON DOORS)
• 56A: Category for 17-, 31-, 35-,and 43- Accross (what, you're expecting me to type it in again? You already typed it in, I typed it in above, and you want it again? THINGS THAT SWING)

Among the theme answers, I do have a complaint about UNDECIDED VOTERS, in that they don't actually swing. They cause swings, they don't swing. Man, I sure hope Paula forgives me for this trashing I'm giving her. Good thing I'm not real.

Bullets:

• 16A: YSL Fragrance (OPIUM) Will, yesterday you stepped up to the plate by cluing ASS simply as idiot. No biblical imagery of riding an ASS or smiting with the jawbone of an Ass, just ASS, pure and simple, as we all use it. Why back off with OPIUM? YSL was talking about OPIUM, pure and simple. It's OPIUM, one of the scourges of mankind, but call it what it is for what it is.
• 34A: Begone! (SCAT) You all know I'm going to embed Ella somewhere in here, no? The whole puzzle is about things that swing, among which Ella is at the top of the list. So why not clue SCAT via Ella? You trying to take that away from me too Paula, hoping I would miss it? Man, if I used the "B" word in public I'd be all upside your head with it.
• 36D/50A (NEAL crossing ALYSSUM) [2AM edit] Kind of Naticky here, though I've gotten NEAL wrong often enough that he's part of the family. My family consists mainly of things I've gotten wrong. First, NINA is my go to NPR person. I solved this 90%+ downs only, had the N___ saw NPR, entered NINA. Quickly erased NINA, what with her last name being Totenberg, not Conan, though Nina will return to the story line here. If I ever knew of Sweet ALYSSUM, which I doubt, I would have to guess I misread it as Sweet Asylum. Which takes me back to OPIUM.

In an unrelated but completely true story, I got a major resentment towards Ella Fitzgerald today. Huge resentment. See, Paula was messing with me with (4A) FIEND, (62D) SIN and my (erroneous) 36D NINA, which combined as a diabolical reference to the following:

This song has been playing nonstop in my head for the past 6 months. Seriously, it's playing in the background of my mind all day long. Yes, I take meds for this, but they don't work. As to the song, it is absolutely perfect, if you can get past the apocalyptic imagery and just focus on its pure statement of hopelessness. I spent most of Saturday trying to get this song out of my head. I finally thought I had done so, replace him with some Keb' Mo', when I went to check out the Expo who was the MVP in the All Star Game, Tim Raines. Wait, I know him, "Rock" Raines. He played for the Yankees. Rock, I ran to the Rock, Rock won't help me. Damn, Nina's back again. I figured that the one person who could force Nina from my mind was Ella, so I went out looking for some new Ella, and found a CD which contained a song I've been looking for for years. Just this evening, I ripped it to my Zune (yes, I'm the one who has one, you can all tell your friends that you actually know one), and listened to it. I've been looking for that song for years, and it is probably her worst recording ever. Ever, and she never had a bad recording.

So, you want one of the best THINGS THAT SWING? Gotcha covered (volume at max absolutely required, screw the at/not at work thing).

Wait, no Ella? Damned right no Ella, the bitch let me down today. Oops, I guess I do use the "B" word in public. Paula, you got off easy.

Signed, Zeke, for Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

PS: Sorry, but I can't remove all the gratituous boldness in the typefaces.
PPS: Thanks PuzzleGirl for making the above PS irrelevant, and the blog look less chimp-written.

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]

Accompaniment for oysters / FRI 7-2-10 / Thimble Theatre surname / Cook's final setting / Symbol of pork / Phiz on five / Suffix with adipo

Constructor: Paula Gamache

Relative difficulty: Medium

THEME: none


Word of the Day: phiz (42D: Phiz on a five => ABE) —

n

(Life Sciences & Allied Applications / Anatomy) Slang chiefly Brit the face or a facial expression an ugly phiz Also called phizog [ˈfɪzɒg fɪˈzɒg]

[colloquial shortening of physiognomy]

[Also]

Browne, Hablot Knight (hăb'lō), pseud. Phiz, 1815-82, English illustrator. At 21 he was chosen by Charles Dickens to illustrate Pickwick Papers. His success was immediate, and in due course he illustrated many of Dickens's novels as well as works of Harrison Ainsworth and Charles Lever. Browne also contributed popular cartoons to Punch and painted numerous watercolors and several oils.

• • •

Main attractions here are the eight interlocking 15s — an impressive feat in and of itself, but one that does not provide (today) for much sizzle. Phrases are either plain (HAWAIIAN ISLANDS => 17A: Cook's final setting), tired (BRIDGE TO NOWHERE => 8D: Symbol of pork; 3rd time this year—officially retiring after this appearance, I hope), disappointing (MIND YOUR MANNERS => 11D: Social admonition; really wanted, and in fact wrote in, MIND YOUR PS AND QS), or from outer space (MIGNONETTE SAUCE!? => 33A: Accompaniment for oysters). That last one was a total mystery to me — I know the French word "mignon," which kinda sorta helped, but ugh — and so the west was by far the toughest part of the grid for me, and where I finished. Had to run the alphabet at SIRED / ARI (36A: Actress Graynor, someone I've never heard of, likely because she's the star of nothing — whoa, turns out I've seen her many times: as the younger sister of Agent Dunham on "Fringe"). After the 15s, you've just got a Lot of short fill. Lots of threes. Not much to see there.

Puttered around for what felt like a long time before really getting a strong footing in the grid. Wrong DAIS to start gave me right AMAT and then A MOI. Got my first long answer after taking care of the easy fill-in-the-blanks in the NE and then putting down MIND YOUR PS AND QS (changed to correct answer after ERNE became clear answer at 62A: Kite's kin). I mainly fiddled around the periphery until enough of a long answer came into view that I could get it. Stopped the clock midway through just to confirm that PEARY was really a thing (61A: "Northward Over the Great Ice" writer). Wasn't too sure about HAI (59D: Asian affirmative). Only other answer I wasn't sure of was adipoCYTE (63A: Suffix with adipo-). Fat-killer? [no, wait, that's -CIDE I'm thinking of...] Oh, and MSEC (51D: How long it takes light to travel 186 mi.). I just wrote in -SEC and waited. Oh, oh, and I didn't know what "phiz" meant, but since the phrase "on a five" was in the clue, I figured ABE was involved.

Bullets:

• 10A: One trying to eliminate bad notes (T-MAN) — fantastic clue; really had me fooled for several seconds, even with T-AN in place.
  
• 23A: Graffitist's trademark (TAG) — tagging around here is sparse and weak, but sometimes trains come through with astonishingly good work on them.
  
• 51A: Dovetail part (MORTISE) — Would expect "tenon" to go with MORTISE. But not today.
  
• 5D: Honeybee genus (APIS) — yay for my brief but intense study of Latin. Virgil liked to talk about APES (bees).
  
• 7D: Suffix with Mozart (-EAN) — he really deserves an -ESQUE.

• 19D: City in the Plain of Sharon (LOD) — most of what I know about Israel, I learned from crosswords.
  
• 34D: "Thimble Theatre" surname (OYL) — as in Olive. "Thimble Theatre" was the E.C. Segar strip that spawned "Popeye."
  
• 35D: Something with many arms (SEA) — every SEA? Is every nook and cranny of the shoreline an "arm?"
  
• 41D: Source of an essential oil with medicinal properties (TEA TREE) — faddish ingredient in beauty products. That's how I know it, anyway.
  
• 48D: Setting for Hitchcock's "Notorious" (RIO) — knew it was South America somewhere. In three letters, RIO was a good bet.
  
• 60D: Pianist Pogorelich (IVO) — Whoops, forgot about this guy. Cover his phiz in MIGNONETTE SAUCE, because I didn''t know him either.
• 57D: Women with auréoles: Abbr. (STES.) — hey-o! Me: "What's the French word for 'All Of Them?'" I was getting halos and nipples confused. It happens.
  

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]