Tag Archives: The Washington Post

The big tournament

All eyes are on the big tournament. That great American competition that captures national attention this time every year. It’s time to see how your predictions will play out.

No, not the run-up to the Sweet Sixteen. It’s the official American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, held this weekend at the Brooklyn Bridge Marriott. If only Word Nymph had the forethought to apply for press credentials.

Following opening ceremonies last night (not exactly the Olympics, but a nice wine and cheese reception), the bloodfest begins this morning at 11:00.

Throughout the day today, contestants will complete a series of six crossword puzzles against a ticking clock. Then tonight, look out! It’s Games and Quizzes Night, featuring “The ACPT-zing Race,” a puzzle version of television’s “The Amazing Race.” Then it’s “Life Is Shortz,” a one-act crossword play named for New York Times crossword editor Will Shortz.

Tomorrow morning, there’s a talent show by Tournament contestants and officials, followed by the championship playoffs, in which the top three contestants in three divisions compete in sudden-death rounds on giant grids. NPR’s Neal Conan and Washington Post crossword editor Merl Reagle will give live, play-by-play commentary on the final rounds. I’m all aquiver.

The top prize is $5,000 but the real thrill has got to be just being there for it all. Or even getting to meet  Shortz or Reagle in person. You can compete online for $20, but then you miss the excitement and pageantry of the event.

Yesterday I decided that, if I can’t get a press pass for next year, maybe I’ll try out as an amateur. On the ACPT website, there’s a sample puzzle that’s supposed to give prospective competitors a sense of  their worthiness. Apparently, if you are able to complete it in 15 minutes, you would be competitive at the tournament. A time of under 10 minutes would be excellent.

As part of my usual bedtime ritual, I set out to work that very puzzle, timing myself, to gauge my aptitude. After the pretend starting buzzer sounded, I sped through the clues, surprised to find them so easy. Alas, I stopped after 18 minutes, after answering only 68 of the 74 clues.

Truly, I am a faithful amateur. There hasn’t been day in the last 10 years that I haven’t worked a puzzle, though I’m years away from being an expert. There are certain rivers and playwrights whose names I’ll never commit to memory. But I love good wordplay and find nothing more satisfying than breaking the code on a Sunday grid and laughing out loud at the cleverness of the masters.

How cool would it be to cover the tournament live for this blog next year?

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Sports and Recreation

Snowonder there aren’t more

Last winter, here on the East Coast, we witnessed the formation of clever and catchy weather portmanteaus. Remember portmanteaus? We discussed them last summer. Remember summer?

Portmanteau is a term Lewis Carroll coined to describe the combining of the sound and meaning of two words into one.

Before the first crocus sprang in 2010, we were all a little tired of the cutesy winter snowmenclature—Snowpocalypse, Snowmageddon, SnOMG.

Snirt

Last week, during our extensive power outage, I made up one of my own:  electrocity. It didn’t catch on. Yesterday, a friend turned me on to a new catch word for the nasty stuff that’s lining our streets these days: snirt.

This morning’s paper has a story of a burglar living in one of the Maryland neighborhoods hit by the power outage. After having hit up several houses and stolen thousands of dollars worth of jewelry, he found a house that had power and broke in. When he realized he was about to get caught, he fled through a window, leaving his cell phone charging in an outlet. I’d call this electrostupurglary.

Snoway we can’t come up with more of these.

Now that we know officially that we won’t be having six more weeks of winter, there’s not much time to come up with more seasonal portmanteaus and get them out of our frigid systems.

Anyone?

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Date night

If you haven’t been following the lead up to tonight’s State of the Union address, or “SOTU” as inside-the-Beltway rags call it, something remarkable and history-making is about to happen.

Rather than being separated into sections, Republicans and Democrats have been encouraged to spread out and sit with each other. This could have all kinds of ramifications.

From the perspective of the television audience, it’ll be a bit harder to discern audience reactions than in previous years, with one side of the room in standing ovation and the other a sea of arms folded across chests at key points in the speech. In an effort to engender bonding and stimulate civil communication between red and blue, members of Congress have spent time this week choosing whom from the opposite side they’ll sit with during the address.

When I heard this, I became concerned for members whom no one asks to the dance. Just like senior prom, there are always a few who are passed over by classmates looking to score the most popular dates.

Yesterday, Vanity Fair came out with an initial report of who’s going with whom, along with suggestions of topics these duos should avoid, lest all Hades break loose in the chamber, as it did last year, if I recall correctly. This morning, The Washington Post‘s Style section suggests how bipartisan cliques might form around common interests and habits.

I haven’t heard how this intermingling is supposed to take place in practicality. Does one member go and save a seat for his or her buddy? Or will duos make it a true date—maybe a double date—and get a bite to eat together before the speech? A nightcap afterward, perhaps? Will they share a box of Jujubes? Or will they end up elbowing or kicking each other beneath the seats like young siblings, when the uncomfortable subject of spending priorities comes around?

What about those who refuse to cross the aisle and remain amongst their like-minded colleagues? Perhaps they are already practicing the Wave or synchronized heckles.

I rested up during the AFC and NFC playoffs so I can be nice and alert for SOTU. Call me a wonk if you will; perhaps this comes from many years in a job in which I had to take detailed notes and write a report the next morning. Tonight I’ll just pop some corn and watch the show. Okay, so I may take a few notes. Old habits die hard.

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Filed under News, Politics

The List

Every New Year’s Day, the first thing I do is open The Washington Post and read The List, a comparative account of what’s Out and what’s In in the new year. Other papers around the country may publish something similar, but the Post tends to include a few inside-the-Beltway references.

What always strikes me is that I didn’t know so many things were In until they were already Out. Brussels sprouts, for example. Conversely, I am amused to read what’s now In that was already In for me. For example, IHOP is now In. I celebrated my birthday there (by choice) two weeks ago.

Sorry, Betty White, you’ve been replaced by Anne Meara. I’m just glad you’re both enjoying your due glory.

I’ve jotted down a few personal Ins and Outs:

OUT IN
Two spaces after a period One space after a period
Oxford comma No comma
Hot house Central air conditioning
Goose bumps Hot flashes
Real Housewives of anywhere Hot in Cleveland
Coffee, alcohol, chocolate, garlic, onions, tomatoes, fried foods, and late night snacking Hot water and Dexilant happy hours
Zicam Webcam
Pandora jewelry Pandora radio

 

What’s Out and In for you in 2011?

Happy New Year.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Beauty and Fashion, Food, Health, Holidays, Marketing/Advertising/PR, Movies, Television and Radio, News, Reading, Technology and Social Media

Time capsule in the news

In case you missed them, here are some headlines from Sunday’s Washington Post:

“Twining Criticism Stirs NATO Clash”
“Bulgaria Reds Shift Politburo”
“Nixon Committee to Organize in District”
“Gay Clothes Put Sparkle in Young Eyes”
“Cosmopolitan Tehran Lacks Middle East Table: Hardest place to find a Middle Eastern restaurant in”
“Electronic Gadgets Shrinking to Specks”
An op-ed piece on “Wall Street Money and Politics”
“The Federal Diary: Efficiency Rises in 3 Agencies”

Confused? I pulled these headlines from the Sunday paper that was printed on December 13, 1959, the day I was born. I still have the actual paper my father bought at the Hilton at 16th and K Streets after he dropped my mother off at Georgetown University Hospital. That’s how things were done back then. 

Fifty-one years later, that newspaper is all yellow and crackly around the edges, as am I. Still, I pull it out every year and marvel at how things have changed—and how they haven’t—since 1959.

Debbie Reynolds graced the cover of Parade, while Ann Sothern appeared on the cover of TV Week.

What is now the Style section was “For and About Women.”

One could buy a completely redecorated row house in Georgetown for $28,000 or rent a furnished luxury apartment at 2400 Pennsylvania Avenue for $160 a month. A house in Kensington, Md., where I live, went for $18,900.

District residents were enticed to do their shopping at Julius Garfinkel & Co., Woodward & Lothrop, Kann’s, Raleigh Haberdasher, Best & Co., Stein’s, G.C. Murphy Company and People’s Drug.

IBM took out a want ad for machine operators, offering complete training in Key Punch and Tab and Wiring. Another company advertised openings for “Ambitious Men (white).” Egads.

Before I put away this paper time capsule until next year, I thought you might enjoy a few images.

 

I’m betting many of you recall Washington in the 1950s. Does any of this stir a memory?

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Punctuation is FUNdamental

Most major national news outlets covered the leaked angry e-mail from Alaska’s former First Dude Todd Palin to Joe Miller, Alaska Republican Senate candidate, and Tim Crawford, treasurer of SarahPAC, regarding Sarah Palin’s presidential aspirations, qualifications and possible support of Miller. But The Washington Post’s Dana Milbank got my attention, in a recent column in which he poked His-and-Hers fun at Ms. Palin’s made up word and Mr. Palin’s gross misuse of punctuation: “Will somebody please refudiate our fear that there is a serious punctuation problem in the Palin household?”

Here’s the e-mail and here’s your challenge. How many punctuation errors can you count?

Joe and Tim,

Hold off on any letter for Joe. Sarah put her ass on the line for Joe and yet he can’t answer a simple question ” is Sarah Palin Qualified to be President”. I DON’T KNOW IF SHE IS.

Joe, please explain how this endorsement stuff works, is it to be completely one sided.

Sarah spent all morning working on a Facebook post for Joe, she won’t use it, not now.

Put yourself in her shoe’s Joe for one day.

Todd

In the 80-word body of the e-mail, I count eight.

Occasionally, when I notice errors, friends and colleagues advise me to go easy on people, especially if they were not fortunate enough to go to college.

First, I am quick to volley back with the fact that some of the most articulate and punctuation-savvy people I know did not go to college. Second, I’d be the first to acquiesce to this advice if I were pointing out errors pertaining to material taught in college.

But didn’t we all learn basic grammar and punctuation long before college? Spelling certainly isn’t a university level course. Didn’t we have to master these fundamentals in order to get into college?

So, out of Todd’s eight errors, I am going to give him the benefit of the doubt on half, because it was an e-mail he thought no one but its addressees would see and also because I know as well as anyone that some errors might simply be typos.

I’ll ask the English teachers (and English students) who read this blog if they agree. Would you grade Todd on the curve? How many points off for apostrophe abuse, semicolon deficit and misplaced quotation marks? (Notice, Todd, dear, I ended my question with a question mark.)

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A real stinker

Something else is bugging us here in the nation’s capital. As if we didn’t have enough to worry about, we are undergoing an invasion–in our homes, in our cars, at work, on our persons.

We thought we were safe until 2021, when the 17-year locusts are scheduled to return.

But no, Mother Nature has sent the Brown Marmorated Stink Bug, so named because of the noxious odor it emits when squashed. I understand our neighbors to to the north and south are also being plagued.

I first noticed stink bugs when my two cats started chasing them around the house. Then I spotted them within the window frames, crawling across the kitchen counter, then pretty much everywhere. I’ve picked one out of my hair and one off my clothing. I even plucked one off a stranger Friday night as we waited in line to retrieve our cars from a restaurant valet. It was the least I could do, as I had noticed the poor guy earlier as his dinner companion (wife, girlfriend, first date, sister, don’t know) sobbed through the meal. Then to be attacked by a stink bug.

The stink bug appeared Saturday on the front page of The Washington Post, below the fold, jumping out at readers as they turned over their morning papers. The article quoted a noted entomologist who predicted the invasion “is going to be biblical this year.”

As I contemplated whether to share this creepy phenomenon with my blog readers, I soon learned I had been beaten to the punch.

My friend Dennis wrote a descriptive post on his blog and I didn’t want to be a copycat. Then I thought I’d write a stink bug haiku. Nope, it’s been done. Stink bug rap? Done, including clean and dirty versions.

Then I thought, aha, The Stink Bug Blues.

Doh! How early does a person need to get up to write an original piece on a stinking insect?

So basically, I got nothin’. But the blues…

Maybe this will take our minds off bedbugs for a while.

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Filed under Foibles and Faux Pas, Music

The great outdoors

Every year, as the crispness of autumn begins to creep around the bend, my husband’s thoughts turn to camping.

He goes several times a year with friends and loves it. He even cooks. I used to go occasionally, and our friends always went out of their way to make sure I had a pleasant time. But honestly, camping isn’t my idea of vacation time well spent. For one thing, all that sitting around gives me the jitters. And did you ever try to go shopping in a campground store?

It’s cliché to say that my idea of camping is a Holiday Inn, but I will say that comfort and cleanliness rank fairly high.

I do appreciate that camping is a valid low-cost vacation option, especially in this economic climate.

It seems that another popular way Americans save money is by taking a—pardon the portmanteau—staycation. You know, it’s where you take time off from work but don’t leave town. Instead, you might lie by the pool or visit attractions near your home.

I opened the Travel section of The Washington Post yesterday and learned of yet another increasingly popular, affordable—and portmanteau-named—getaway option. This one might just bring my husband and me a little closer to agreement, and fit within our budget at the same time.

The Post called it “glamping.” The article takes readers to so-called adventure resorts that offer relief from cumbersome equipment and flimsy tents, as well as clean, comfy beds, natural scenery and, in some cases, amenities galore. One place apparently has lockable French doors, which I want if the storied Son of Ratman is still on the loose.

Just imagine, you’ll enjoy the aroma of a crackling campfire without splinters. And roll over in your sleep without hitting a tree root or falling off your cot.

I wonder how the shopping is.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Family and Friends, Travel

H’lo? H’lo?

Everybody’s talking. They’re saying that nobody’s talking.

In the past week, there’s been some news and commentary about shifts in the ways people communicate. Many are giving up their land line phones in favor of cell phones and some aren’t using their cell phones at all–for talking, anyway. 

In “The Death of the Phone Call,” published in Wired magazine, essayist Clive Thompson puts the bottom line in simple terms. Today, he says, we are in “constant, lightweight contact,” following a dramatic decline in the number of calls made from telephones—especially cell phones. Essentially, we call less but talk more, but we’re “talking” via other media—text messaging, instant messaging, social media and, to a lesser extent, e-mail.

Facebook is a prime example of this constant, lightweight contact. It allows us to know what and how our friends are doing–their successes, worries, vacation plans, and cute things their kids said. We like knowing about these things, but we might not have 30 minutes to spend on the phone hearing about it.

The topic popped up a few other places this week and made me think. If I suspect my son hasn’t read an important e-mail, I usually text him that there is a message that requires his attention. If that doesn’t work, I shoot an instant message across the bow. If that doesn’t work, he gets the dreaded phone call.

It seems, by all accounts, no one wants the call.

An article in The Washington Post yesterday dug deeper into why this is so.

People interviewed for the piece cited a few reasons they don’t reach out and touch someone. Whether or not these are really why the kids don’t call, I don’t know. But, as the caller and the callee, I get it.

The immediacy of the phone call strips the callee of control. By dialing the phone, the caller is saying, I want a block of your time right now–when it is convenient for me. In contrast, texts and e-mails can be sent at the sender’s convenience and read at the recipient’s.  

Those interviewed also said they viewed calling as impolite and intrusive, “more of an interruption than the blip of an arriving text.” Another observed that answering the phone requires a certain amount of psychological energy.

To a large extent, I agree. What disturbs me, though, is a trend that appears to go along with the new communications order. The Post article also noted that people avoiding the phone are often guilty of two sins–not returning calls and ignoring invitations.

Those of us who retreat from a ringing phone are by no means excused of our obligations to behave politely. 

I don’t care what generation we occupy, how busy our schedules are, what time zones we live in or how happy we are to receive a particular call, the rules remain clear:

If someone leaves a message, we return the call.

If someone calls inviting us to something, we R.S.V.P., even if it is by text message.

Postscript:  As it happens, my son called last night, after I was asleep, to share some good news, which he received while reading his e-mail. I welcome that call, day or night.

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Queen for a day

Do you ever have days when you can’t seem to do anything right?

Or weeks?  Or months?  I go through long periods when I seem unusually prone to mistakes, and they overshadow anything good I might do. 

Lately it seems that every day I find an error in a blog post, about a millisecond after hitting the Publish button.  I am able to go back in and correct it, but the daily e-mails that go out to subscribers are indelible proof of my carelessness.

It makes me think of humor columnist Gene Weingarten, who won the Pulitzer Prize for featuring writing earlier this year.  Weingarten described his first emotion as “abject shame” because the column for which he won the prize contained a redundant phrase, “history of prior neglect,” which “suddenly seemed to sum up my life.”  He went on, “When the prize was announced, I became certain that my obituary in The Washington Post will begin: “Gene Weingarten, who once shamed this newspaper by winning a Pulitzer Prize for an article containing an egregious redundancy…”

While I can by no means relate to such prestigious acclaim, I can most painfully relate to the shame of a public mistake.

Yesterday, following about a week of stupid errors, I managed inadvertently to insert an obscure bit of code that made the entire blog post disappear.  After an hour of sweating and panting, I found and fixed the problem, but knew the mistake was already out there for all to see and ridicule.  Welcome to Loserville, Population 1

Just then I received an e-mail notice from WordPress, my blog host, that Word Nymph was one of 10 blogs featured in Freshly Pressed, its daily display of best blog posts that entertain, enlighten or inspire.

In selecting blogs for Freshly Pressed, WordPress considers among other factors:  unique content that’s “free of bad stuff,” images and other visuals, typo-free content and compelling headlines.

Or, it might just be that they choose at random, to give every blogger his or her chance at a global audience and 24 hours of fame.

Either way, I allowed myself to bask in the attention of thousands of fellow bloggers, many of whom posted playful comments that kept me giggling all day long.  I had the chance to become aware of hundreds of great blogs out there, which I plan to not only read but get to know their writers a little better.  

Yesterday opened up a whole new community of which I felt privileged to be a part.  I enjoyed meeting my new friends from Australia, Canada, France, Germany, Hong Kong, Indonesia, the Philippines, the United Kingdom and other places.

While I won’t break into a chorus of “It’s a Small World,” maybe I will try to beat myself up a little less about errors and typos.  Well, probably not.

When I started Word Nymph, my mental image was of a playground.  My wish was that one day it be full of people, laughing and squealing and ready to play.

Yesterday that wish came true, even if just for a day.

Hey guys, come back tomorrow!

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