SUNDAY PUZZLE -- Will Shortz, in his print introduction to this grid, writes: "Michael Schlossberg is an internist in Bend, Ore. This is his 16th crossword for The Times. He says he got the idea for it when he heard one of his sons say 63-Across to the other. 'That's how I get my crossword ideas nowadays -- osmosis. Sitting down and actually trying to think of an idea never seems to pay off.'"
That's how great inspiration happens sometimes, but then you need the skills to execute a puzzle like this one. I'm constantly amazed by how a constructor like Mr. Schlossberg can spin something simple into an ingenious contraption like this, and it's also a terrific solve.
Today's Theme
Two different design elements in this grid are apparent from the start: There are four entries with circled boxes on the left side, at 23-, 41-, 83- and 105-Across, and four tiny pairs of scissors that appear to cut into four entries on the right side, at 28-, 48-, 89- and 112-Across. These entries appear in paired rows -- 23-Across is one row above 28-Across, for example -- which was a bit of a red herring to me because I thought that they might share some letters or otherwise interact, as the last four letters of each upper entry touch the first four letters of the lower entry. This turns out to just be how it's constructed (I found it very pleasing).
There is also a revealer entry at the center of the puzzle, the above-mentioned 63-Across, that nicely crystallizes the two tricks involved in solving these entries, but you can figure things out before you fill that in.
All of the theme clues seem pretty ordinary, although the four on the left have little endnotes. These turn out to be abbreviated amounts. For example, 23-Across is [Boast accompanying an evil laugh (120 sec.)] and solves to MINE, ALL MINE, a classic villain's expression. Both occurrences of MIN in this entry appear in circled boxes, so MIN and MIN stand out. Why? Two MINs, or minutes, add up to 120 sec.
At 83-Across, the [Scientist who spent his last years under house arrest (8 qt.)] is GALILEO GALILEI, and both GALs in his name are in circles. Sure enough, two gallons add up to eight quarts, as hinted at in this clue. (Galileo's appearance in this puzzle is delightful in hindsight, as he spent his entire life trying to quantify everything from time to the speed of light.)
I think the trick on the right side is a little tougher, but things clicked after getting close to two of its examples. At 112-Across, [Waving the white flag, so to speak], the little scissors appear to snip the line between the first and second squares. I had a few letters here and there and was thinking of phrases like "cutting one's losses" or "cutting and running," but nothing worked. At 48-Across, [Letter opener?], I wondered if this might be a scissor pun for a moment, but had enough letters to realize that the "opener" has to be "To Whom It May Concern," text that starts a correspondence. However, there are too few squares to fit this phrase: TO WHOM IT MAY fits fine, but there are only three squares left at the end; the scissors here are cutting the line between the first two of those. Using letters from down entries, I deduced here that CONCERN gets clipped to CRN -- ONCE is edited out. Looking at 112-Across for confirmation, C (ONCE) DING DEFEAT fits perfectly and suits its clue.
So now we have two measurements on one side of the puzzle; on the other, ONCE is cut. Remind you of any old expression? It’s at 63-Across, [Carpenter’s adage illustrated four times in this puzzle]: MEASURE TWICE, CUT ONCE. This is crafty advice that can be used for any situation that requires planning and execution, and various iterations are found in Gaelic, Russian and Italian history going back several centuries.
Tricky Clues
- 4A. It looks as though a line of Shakespeare's work was sanitized for this clue, [Words that might precede "Out, darned Spot!"], but "damned" has been in clues and entries in the Times puzzle since 1950. So forget about Lady Macbeth unless she happens to have a BAD DOG that is where it shouldn't be (as a dog owner, the bathroom immediately comes to mind).
- 25A. This is a debut entry: [Low-pitched jazz instruments, for short] are BARI SAXES, short for "baritone," of course.
- 37A. I love the wordplay in this clue: [Rock band?] solves to SEAM, which in this case describes a line of ore or other material between layers of a rock formation. I also noted the placement of this entry in the middle of the puzzle and wondered if it was a coincidence or a little wink to the theme because it's right above two overlapping entries and could represent a splice between right and left sides.
- 118A. This is an outrageous chess pun. [When mating typically occurs] has zero to do with the seasons. It's all about the ENDGAME, which is usually when a checkmate takes place.
- 17D. [Doofuses, north of the border] are known as HOSERS, a term that was apparently popularized in Canada by a 1980s television show.
- 31D. This is such a cute term for an excruciating activity: [Core-strengthening Pilates exercises] include TOE TAPS, which awaken the lower abdominals usually to their dismay.
- 75D. This entry is actually Shakespearean apparently: [Men who marry later in life] can be called BENEDICTS after Benedick a character in "Much Ado About Nothing" who wages a "merry war of wits" with Beatrice all the while secretly pining for her affection.
Constructor Notes
Today's theme is about precision in craftsmanship. Which is ironic since I've never successfully put together a crib bed or bookcase on the first try. The faulty instructions keep telling me to install a piece backward.
I knew today's revealer had crossword potential but I had the hardest time translating it into a workable theme. The key was abbreviating the measurements on the left which unlocked a good number of phrases to work with. Then I hit upon the word deletion gimmick on the right side which toughened the theme up to Sunday-level complexity.
At 119 theme letters I didn't have much wiggle room when it came to the fill and as a result some gluey bits crept in. LTD? Check. EBW? Yep. OLIO! OMG, OLIO. OLIO is as bad as OREO; but also so, so much worse. It's the CHERRY COLA OREO of OREOS. It's like if you took OREO out on a date; only to be mansplained for two hours about how to properly dunk an OREO.
Really; it's just the worst.
Thanks for doing my puzzle!