Tasseographer's bit / SAT 12-3-11 / Other Side of Oz autobiographer / East End abode / County NE of El Paso

Constructor: David Quarfoot

Relative difficulty: Easy

THEME: none 

Word of the Day: Mission Santa INÉS (55D: California's Mission Santa ___) —

Mission Santa Inés (sometimes spelled Santa Ynez) was founded on September 17, 1804 by Father Estévan Tapís, who had succeeded Father Fermín Lasuén as President of the California mission chain. The Mission site was chosen as a midway point between Mission Santa Barbara and Mission La Purísima Concepción, and was designed to relieve overcrowding at those two missions and to serve the Indians living east of the Coast Range. Despite its name, the Mission is located at 1760 Mission Drive, Solvang, California. (wikipedia)

• • •

Well, this was solid, but ... there were no great seed answers and only two high-value Scrabble tiles in the whole thing; which is to say, it wasn't very Quarfooty. When your own name is more visually interesting than every word in your grid, that's not the greatest sign. I breezed through this, helped along by having owned at least one pair of Timberlands in my life—[something] BOOTS was my first guess, and SNOW seemed the most likely lead-in. I also know very well that the UC Irvine athletes are ANTEATERS (63A: UC Irvine athletes). I grew up attending Fresno State basketball games, and UC Irvine was at that point in our conference (the bygone PCAA conference), and so we played the ANTEATERS a lot. UC Santa Cruz is the BANANA SLUGS, by the way. My stepbrother went there. I don't think they have a Div. I basketball team. SNOWBOOTS and ANTEATERS gave me enough purchase to dismantle their respective corners, and everything else was ust very easy to piece together.



I figure that being a constant solver helped me with at least a half dozen words, most notably OTERO (6D: County NE of El Paso) and MUONS (words I would never have encountered were it not for crosswords). Other stuff that came easy through force of habit was ALEROS, DEANE, NCO, SNEE, REUP, ELAL and 'OME (26A: East End abode). Strangely, the one significant hang-up I had in the puzzle was a result of a tiny answer (also the puzzle's weakest answer): -OTE (61D: Taxonomic suffix). I had -ITE. This kept SORE LOSER hidden for an embarrassingly long time. I think I had SO-ELISER and thought "???" But I figured it out. Only other real WTF answer was JUD (50A: "Pore ___ Is Daid" ("Oklahoma!" song)). Had the "J" but that helped just about not at all. JOE? JIM? I figured it would be something close to gibberish, otherwise why go this backwoods idiomatic route in the cluing. The "D" (from RED ROSE—40D: Aid when going to court), was probably the last letter I wrote into the grid. Did this one on paper, for a change—a skill I'm going to have to improve on if I want to have any hope of doing better than 31st at next year's American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, which you can now register for. Details here.

Bullets:

• 17A: Grammy-winning pianist born in the U.S.S.R. (EMANUEL AX) — needed a bunch of crosses, but eventually figured it out. I have a few CDs on which he plays. That's one hell of a last name. 

• 38A: Saqqara attractions (PYRAMIDS) — now there's a crossword answer for you: SAQQARA (featuring the rarely, i.e. never, seen double-Q)
• 3D: Song that ends "Protégera nos foyers et nos droits" ("O CANADA") — which, roughly translated, means "protect our foyers and our rights"; it's all about preventing home invasions, that song.
• 7D: Group that sang the 1962 hit "The Wah Watusi," with "the" (ORLONS) — how did I know this??? I got it off the "O"; I think it must be the Rolling Stone rock & roll trivia magazine that's sitting in our bathroom right now. I remember staring at some question that asked me to guess which of a set of groups *wasn't* a real '60s singing group, and I feel like the ORLONS was on the list.
• 8D: Tasseographer's bit (TEA LEAF) — thought maybe this had something to do with tessellation, but no.
• 12D: 2000 terrorist target (USS COLE) — I'm a bit surprised this clue is in here. NYT tends to steer clear of downers like terrorism (and disease, many body parts, etc.). I think it's a perfectly good clue. 
• 39D: Company sold in 2006 for $1.65 billion—21 months after it was founded (YOUTUBE) — I love their work. 

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

Fictional character whose first name is Kentaro / SAT 10-1-11 / One vertex of Summer Triangle / Movie genre food staple / Transportation Sugar Hill 1941 song

Constructor: David Quarfoot

Relative difficulty: Medium

THEME: none

Word of the Day: ZYNGA (26D: Company behind the popular social network games FarmVille and CityVille) —

Zynga (/ˈzɪŋɡə/) is a social network game developer located in San Francisco, United States. The company develops browser-based games that work both stand-alone and as application widgets on social networking websites such as Facebook and Myspace. (wikipedia)

• • •

Another gorgeous grid from Mr. Quarfoot, though it's so stacked with proper nouns (brands and names and pop culture and what not) that it might prove infuriating for some. STYRO is the only real clunker I see here (29D: Commercial prefix since the 1950s). Well, A CALL's not great, but those are very small prices to pay for such a lively, contemporary, edgy grid. SEX SCENEs! BOOB JOBs! (11D: Growing concern for a surgeon, informally?) Very LATE NITE. I found the puzzle hard to get into, but once I was in, I was able to make steady if slowish progress straight through — strangely, I didn't once have to reboot (i.e. start over in a new section where I had nothing). I just built on crosses, in both directions from my point of origin, until I surrounded that damn NW corner and finished things off in a well-within-normal-range Saturday time. Still, I think this might play slightly harder than average, given the preponderance of names. Initial times at the NYT site seem a little sluggish.




Started with very little (most of it wrong). Had SAT instead of ETS and SSN instead of SGT (that last one was a colossal misread) (38A: E-5: Abbr.). Finally broke through by giving JET LI a shot at 31D: "Romeo Must Die" actor, 2000. I can't remember a thing about "Romeo Must Die"—my memory has it starring Gary Oldman and Lena Olin—but for some reason JET LI was pushing his way to the front of my mind, and I liked where it put that "J"—in position to give me a last name starting with "J" at 30A: Flying Dutchman captain of film (DAVY JONES). Guessed JONES and got A-TRAIN (12D: Transportation to Sugar Hill, in a 1941 song) and ASSETS from there. Rest of the NE was easy. From there I went down and clockwise. Later returned to DAVY JONES and worked counterclockwise until I was done. NW was maddening because I've never heard of GOD'S ARMY (3D: Side in an epic battle), so even when I got ARMY, I was confused. Also, I had ---RANK and could think of only SITE and NAME as possible fill. "PERMIT ME" seemed too polite for the more pushy-sounding clue 1D: "Step aside, I'll help" and I'd never heard of MXS (hmmm ... I guess I've heard the phrase "MX missle" before ...), so there was lots of trouble up there. The "S" in GOD'S ARMY / MXS was the last thing into the grid.



Considered ODETS before ALBEE at 20A: "The Play About the Baby" playwright. Took a while to see LA PAZ (25A: City of the Altiplano). Only got MR. MOTO because I allowed myself to imagine that 1D ("PERMIT ME") ended with ME, thereby supplying the first "M" (32A: Fictional character whose first name is Kentaro). Lots of movies and sports and song and television. Was unaware Danny GLOVER had played Mandela (64A: He played Mandela on TV's "Mandela"). Was unaware (or forgot) that ANKA was Canadian. Took much longer than I should have to come up with the crosswordy movie genre named for a food staple. As with OATERS, I know DENEB only from crosswords (34A: One vertex of the Summer Triangle). I know Senator Dick LUGAR, but had no idea he co-sponsored legislation with President Obama (57A: ___-Obama Proliferation and Threat Reduction Initiative (2007 law)). NAGANO is one of those Olympics sites that I easily forget, but it was referred to on some show I watch recently, so it was fresh in my mind (49D: Olympics site that introduced snowboarding). Weird how puzzles can come together by happenstance. The SW corner felt like that—I mean, didn't believe DEER could possibly be the answer to 56D: Bucks and bucks, but imagining the "D" in place allowed me to guess (tentatively) SCROD, which then (off just the "C") (55A: North Atlantic catch) got me UNCOLA (47D: Beverage nickname, with "the"). That corner was done inside of a minute. Just ... lucky guesses. All that luck was offset in the NW, where I struggled mightily, but the overall experience was just as it should be on a Saturday—a tough and entertaining 10-15 minutes (closer to 15 today).

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

Keyboardist Saunders / SAT 9-10-11 / 2002 horror sequel / Pou vantage point / Mongolian for hero / Gridiron cues / Perfect Peace novelist

Constructor: David Quarfoot

Relative difficulty: Medium

THEME: none


Word of the Day: ARRAN (46A: Island near Ayr) —

Arran or the Isle of Arran (Scots Gaelic: Eilean Arainn) is the largest island in the Firth of Clyde, Scotland, and with an area of 432 square kilometres (167 sq mi) is the seventh largest Scottish island. It is in the unitary council area of North Ayrshire and the 2001 census had a resident population of 5,058. Although commonly associated with the Hebrides, with which it shares many cultural and physical similarities, these latter islands are located to the north and west beyond Kintyre. Arran is mountainous and has been described as a "geologist's paradise". (wikipedia)

• • •

A very entertaining puzzle, though one that was slightly ruined at the end by the JASON X / XY PLANE crossing (48D: 2002 horror sequel + 65A: Setting of many plots). Didn't like it. I understand what an XY PLANE is, but if I've heard it, it's been 20+ years. And JASON X is obscure and odd. Arguably, the Roman numeral really limited the options at that crossing, so ... fair enough. But I still found it yucky, which, again, is a shame, because the rest of the puzzle was pretty nice. Actually, the puzzle felt relatively easy much of the time. Some slow patches, but then some very fast patches. Felt almost like cheating when I got "LA BAMBA" so quickly (1A: Only song on Rolling Stone's "500 Greatest Songs of All Time" list that is not sung in English). Other songs that entered my mind: "99 Luftballoons," "Eres Tu," "Der Komissar" ... I think that's it. "LA BAMBA" made the NW very tractable. Had trouble rounding the corner into the SW, with -OVER and -AN not helping me much at 38A: Transfer and 46A: Island near Ayr, respectively. Tiny crap names like MERL (5D: Keyboardist Saunders who played with the Grateful Dead) and UNU (54A: 1940s-'60s world leader) and ZAC (29A: Country music's ___ Brown Band) and ARIE (37A: First name in auto racing) and then ... whatever STO is (ugh) (59D: Pou ___ (vantage point)) were all giving me minor fits. Got every letter of every one of those from crosses. But then I'd luck into something like H.G. WELLS (got it off the "S") (26D: Writer on whose work Woody Allen's "Sleeper" is loosely based) or VERANDAS (off the "VE-") (36D: Balustraded locales, often), and that seemed to more than make-up for the nettlesome tiny name obstacles.



Ended with two blank squares—the aforementioned missing "X," and the first letter in LOST CAT. I had OSTCAT and honestly didn't have a clue for many seconds (20A: Subject on a wanted poster). Clue is bad, as the word "wanted" would never appear on such a poster, so it's only a "wanted" poster in a "?"-clue sort of way. By this def. of "wanted," virtually every poster is a "wanted" poster. Why else do you post a poster unless you "want" something. Part of me liked the "aha" moment I got when the answer dawned on me, and part of me was annoyed at the overly-clever cluing. Ambivalence!

Bullets:

• 23A: "A God in Ruins" novelist (URIS) — off the "S," giving me immediate access to LACE-UPS (1D: Some boots)

• 47A: It ended in 1947 (RAJ) — pretty sure I put "Gandhi" in my Netflix queue just today. No ... I set a reminder so TCM would email me when "Gandhi" was coming on. I'm on something of an '80s movies kick at the moment.
  
• 64A: Misters abroad (SEÑORES) — this was the fattest gimme in the puzzle. I wasn't *sure* it was right, but it was certainly my first (immediate) guess, and it panned out.
  
• 2D: Name on the highest award of the American Society of Plant Taxonomists (ASA GRAY) — so, if nothing else, I learned that the American Society of Plant Taxonomists exists.
  
• 3D: Diamond handler? (BAT GIRL) — very clever clue. I just finished reading BATGIRL #1 earlier in the evening. Part of D.C.'s big "The New 52" reboot of their entire line-up. BATGIRL is Barbara Gordon again. And she can walk now. I realize I'm talking to like five of you right now. So be it.
  
• 9D: Wolf pack member (U-BOAT) — should've been a fat gimme. Instead, off the "U," I wrote in UTAHN (!?!?!?!?!).
  
• 55D: Bergman's last role (MEIR) — a much more famous "world leader" than that UNU person.
  
• 6D: Mongolian for "hero" (BATOR) — as in Ulan BATOR. "Ulan" = "red."
  
• 44D: "Poetry makes nothing happen" writer (W.H. AUDEN) — it's a great, ambiguous line.
  
• 56D: Response to the '08 financial crisis (TARP) — remember? When everyone got scared and hid under a TARP? Dark days...
  

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

1973 Jim Croce album / SAT 5-28-11 / C ration replacer / Counterpart of Selene / Issuer of 1986 report on pornography / Funicular alternative

Constructor: David Quarfoot

Relative difficulty: Easy

THEME: none


Word of the Day: CHARRO (7D: Cousin of a vaquero) —

Charro is a term referring to a traditional horseman from Mexico, originating in the central-western regions primarily in the state of Jalisco including: Zacatecas, Durango, Guanajuato, Morelos, Puebla. The terms Vaquero and Ranchero (Cowboy and Rancher) are similar to the Charro but different in culture, etiquette, mannerism, clothing, tradition and social status. // The traditional Mexican charro is known for colorful clothing and participating in coleadero y charreada, a specific type of Mexican rodeo. The charreada, or corrida, is the national sport in Mexico, and is regulated by the Federación Mexicana de Charrería. (wikipedia)

• • •

What a strange week. This puzzle was easier than yesterday's, which was way easier than Thursday's. My times are not supposed to get *better* as the week goes on. It's true that I have always had a bit of a wavelength thing going on with David Quarfoot (who seems to be back in regular rotation after a way-too-long-hiatus), but still, under 7 is pretty ridiculous for me on a Saturday. Might be my fastest Saturday ever. It's certainly close. It's not the sexiest DQ puzzle I've ever done, but it's definitely solid, with a batch of fresh, contemporary answers (GUITAR HERO, RED BULL, LASER MOUSE) (15A: Hit video game series featuring "hammer-ons"; 8D: Drink containing taurine; 61A: Optical tool for a computer user) and only a stray EDE (40A: Central Dutch city) or ORALES (45D: Mass attire) here and there to bring things down (FYI: I zoned on EDE, but managed to get ORALES off the "O").

I experienced no significant hold-ups. Plugged "I" into the beginning of 1A: "Shhhh!" follower, figuring it would be some variant on "I'm workin' here!" or "I'm trying to sleep!" I was wrong, but that "I" immediately got me "I GOT A NAME" (1D: 1973 Jim Croce album => tip of the hat to my dad on that one), and that gave me a Lot of first letters in the crosses. Struggled a teeny bit with LE HAVRE (27D: City on the Seine), but followed ED MEESE (42D: Issuer of a 1986 report on pornography) easily into that SE corner and then back up around to the NW, which was the toughest part of the grid for me. Thought 18A: "The Eighth Wonder of the World," informally was K-TWO. Then I thought it was K-ONE (there's a K-ONE, right?), which is *very* close to KONG. So I had -NEER at 14D: Inflame and thought "SNEER? That's terrible." Indeed. Tried LUNA at 11A: Counterpart of Selene (correct), and got ANEER. Bah. Not right. Finally pulled the "E" in K-ONE and there was ANGER, and that was that, except for the little SW corner, which I somehow drove right past on my first lap around the grid. UTTER for ULTRA (49D: Extremely) slowed me down a bit, but not much.


Found a couple parts of the puzzle, er, puzzling. Shouldn't the clue for ABE LINCOLN in some way signal that you're going for the familiar, abbreviated form of his name? (58A: Political leader who patented a system to alter the buoyancy of steamboats). All the crosses said "LINCOLN," but I hesitated for a bit because of this cluing issue. I was going to ask what a SIT-BESIDE was (!?), but then I realized that "neighbor" in the clue 3D: Neighbor in the bleachers, say was being used as a verb. Glad that's sorted out.

Bullets:

• 20A: Dwellers in the Southern Carpathians (SERBS) — did my typical "Slavs or SERBS?" teetering before making the right choice.
  
• 25A: Longtime Disney name (EISNER) — might have proven tough if I hadn't had the first three letters in place before I saw the clue.
  
• 50A: C ration replacer (MR. E) — people think the phrase is "mystery meat." They are mistaken.

• 25D: Home to a famous geodesic sphere (EPCOT) — crossing EISNER, nice.
  
• 54D: Funicular alternative (T-BAR) — seems I have no idea what a "funicular" is. I thought it was something to do with interior decoration, like a newel post or curtain rod or something. But no. It's a sort of inclined railway.
  

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]

Movie format of old / FRI 4-29-11 / ___ 2.0, Bill Gates's house / Where I-80 crosses I-35 / Provincial capital NW of Madrid / Alto preceder

Constructor: David Quarfoot

Relative difficulty: Easy-Medium

THEME: none


Word of the Day: Anapest (41D: "Au revoir," for example) —

An anapaest (also spelled anapæst or anapest, also called antidactylus) is a metrical foot used in formal poetry. In classical quantitative meters it consists of two short syllables followed by a long one; in accentual stress meters it consists of two unstressed syllables followed by one stressed syllable. It may be seen as a reversed dactyl. This word comes from the Greek ανάπαιστος, anápaistos, literally "struck back" (a dactyl reversed), from 'ana-' + '-paistos', verbal of παίειν, paíein: to strike. (wikipedia)

• • •

Rex is off in LA, so you get a guest blogger today. Which is me, SethG. Hey, everybody!

I haven't been here for a bit. Did you miss me? David Quarfoot hasn't been around for a much longer bit, and I certainly missed him. And I know why.

So much fun stuff! When you start with SNOOKI (1A: TV star who wrote the novel "A Shore Thing", informally), and you end with SEXTING (63A: Got a little dirty, in a way), you know the puzzle's gonna have a current and informal vibe. And I like both of those things. Sure, you've got your standard old literary term, like ANAPEST, but you've also got a new literary term, like REFUDIATE (35D: 2010 coinage meaning "to reject"). For every dry word like OTIOSE (61A: Indolent), you've got a KERFUFFLE (5D: Tizzy) or a CAVEMEN (40D: Troglodytes). (Hi Bob!)

Some of the short stuff isn't exciting, as most 3- or 4-letter words aren't exciting, but there's nothing too bad. And a grid like this lives and dies by its longer, meatier stuff, and much of that stuff is terrific. The concept of a (39A: Hotel amenity) isn't exciting, but you don't see SHOWER CAP in the puzzle every day. I HEART is a 6-letter partial, but the clue (17A: Start of many a bumper sticker) revives it. And, my favorite, THE POSITION, which would be terrible if it weren't clued with (54A: It may be assumed).

Like I seem to do every time I'm gonna guest-blog, I didn't get to the puzzle until way too late. I started fine in the NW, where KENKEN was a gimme (15A: Diversion also called MathDoku) that gave me NEHRU (2D: P.M. who was father of another P.M.) and ONE AM (3D: What the ringing of two bells might signal on a ship). I HEART followed, and then I was on to the oddly literal PRAY FOR RAIN (19A: Devoutly wish a drought to end) and moving to the east.

My momentum slowed, and then slowed to a trickle, and then eventually stopped, with most of the bottom still unfinished, when I was almost too tired to brush my teeth. I successfully brushed, went to sleep, and woke up early to finish the puzzle and not watch The Wedding. And now I'm writing this for you, but I don't have much time before I've got to publish and go to work.

Short short version, I finished, with not too much trouble.

Bullets:

• 38A: Game in which all pieces have four components (TETRIS) — this took me way too long to figure out. I think we've shown the Human Tetris here before, but probably not this version.
  
  
• 45A: ___ 2.0, Bill Gates's house (XANADU) — I actually had a Z here for a while, and DR Z seemed just as possible as DR X for (37D. Bogart's only horror film title role, 1939).
• 53D: Group whose name combines the first letters of its members' names (ABBA) — Of course. Yet my first answer was AC/DC, and I imagined that SECURED was a (57A: Kind of mortgage). I guess my mortgage is secured, but SUB-PRIME makes much more sense here. I wanted some sort of sculptor for (62A: One making a bust, maybe), but it's the straighter-forward DEA AGENT.
  
• 54D: Palin boy (TRIG) — I considered TRYG, but then I refudiated it.
  

Signed, SethG, Royal Vizier of CrossWorld

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