Words of the year

And so it begins.

From Dictionary.com, maxxing : “Maxxing is a word that refers to the practice of pursuing an activity to the fullest or optimizing a certain aspect of your life.” As in looksmaxxing , &c.

My suggestion for 2026: affordability .

I’ll add to this post as more words arrive. Please, can we have some grownup words?

Word of the day: chryselephantine

From a New York Times article (gift link) by Shawn McCreesh with a surreal headline: “Trump Delivers a Closing Midterm Message. Mostly About Landscaping”:

And now here he was, using his final in-person address before the election to talk more about his chryselephantine fantasies of ballrooms and arches and Corinthian columns.

Merriam-Webster: “composed of or adorned with gold and ivory.”

And from the Oxford English Dictionary (account needed): “of gold and ivory: applied to statues overlaid with gold and ivory, such as the Olympian Zeus and Athene Parthenos of Phidias.” There’s also a figurative meaning, which might better suit non-ivory structures like military complexes and ballrooms. Though elephantine does seem apt.

[Spoiler alert. Highlight the blanks to see the words below.]

Chryselephantine is now the number-two lookup at Merriam-Webster. Chorister , which appears in today’s Times Strands game, is number nine. Crooner , also in Strands today, dropped out as I typed.

Elaine and I watched half an hour of the current occupant’s pool party on C-SPAN yesterday. It’s worth watching. Don’t hide the madness.

[χρῡσελεϕάντινος: “of gold and ivory.” You can see the elephant in the word.]

How to improve writing (no. 137)

From a Washington Post article:

Then the Village People’s “Y.M.C.A.” begins to play. Trump pumps his fists and sways his hips, his feet planted in place, as supporters cheer, reach toward the stage and raise their phones to capture one of the most recognizable rituals in American politics.

Much better:

Then the Village People’s “Y.M.C.A.” begins to play. Trump pumps his fists and sways his hips, his feet planted in place, as supporters cheer, reach toward the stage and raise their phones to capture one of the most bizarre rituals in American politics.

Related reading
All OCA How to improve writing posts (Pinboard)

[This post is no. 137 in a series dedicated to improving stray bits of professional public prose.]

Another codger

[Click for a larger view.]

A codger of coots, on their way to audition for a remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds. Alas, they were unable to execute the quick takeoffs needed for the part. (Or parts?) And during the audition, one of them couldn’t stop looking at the camera.

Codger is this blog’s collective name for coots. Old or young, they form a codger.

“Welcome in,” again

I first noticed it in a television commercial in June. And then I learned that it’s been a thing for some time. Not long after that, I heard it in a bookstore: “Welcome in!” I asked about it, explaining that I was interested in language, and the much-younger-than-me employee expressed surprise that people once said “Welcome,” no adverb needed. And then I heard it in a restaurant: “Welcome in!” (Thank you.)

And last week, I heard it in an Ace Hardware store in downstate Illinois. I’ll take that as a sign that “Welcome in!” has conquered the American-English-speaking world.

I checked to make sure: in is indeed an adverb there. As I said, “interested in language.”

NOW

[333 Mulberry Street, Little Italy, Manhattan, c. 1939–1941. From the NYC Municipal Archives Collections. Click for a much larger view.]

Today this address falls in Nolita. Ick. Let’s say northern Little Italy. The Shell station is gone (no surprise); Google Maps shows a sandwich shop and clothing store. And the clothing store appears to have or have had a Hummer on display. Farther forward, out of camera range, was and is the Broadway–Lafayette Street/Bleecker Street subway station.

I am regarding the enigmatic NOW as a message from one perilous time to another. NOW is the time for all good people to come to the aid of their endangered democracy and vote.

Related posts
More photographs from the NYC Municipal Archives (Pinboard)

Beetle Bailey imitates life

[Beetle Bailey , November 1, 2026. Click for a larger can.]

Do people really hide in garbage cans to shirk work? It happens.

[I have to read Beetle Bailey : Beetle is Lois Flagston’s brother.]

Halloween 2026

Halloween 2026: not one trick-or-treater. We had twenty in 2024, ten last year. (I counted.) So we’re left with Milky Ways, Jolly Ranchers, and close to 200 miniature Tootsie Rolls. It’s the last year for trick-or-treating at our house. You hear that, kids?

Perhaps it’s just as well that we didn’t have any visitors last night: Tootsie Rolls, as I discovered (too late), are an utterly vile candy. Either they’ve changed since I was a kid, or I have. We are tossing them, along with the Jolly Ranchers, and keeping the other candy whose first name ends in ē.

[The miniature Milky Ways are labeled “fun size.” But wouldn’t a regulation-size Milky Way be the real fun?]

Story.

[Click for a larger view.]

As found at the Library of Congress. The library reminds us, “This is a digitized catalog card, not an audio recording.”

I hope it’s a good night for trick-or-treating. Happy Halloween to all.

Today’s Saturday Stumper

Today’s Newsday  Saturday Stumper is by “Lester Ruff” — the puzzle’s editor, Stan Newman, offering an easier Saturday puzzle. I often find Les’s puzzles pretty Ruff, but this one is indeed easy. It’d be a good puzzle for anyone who wants to test the Stumper waters, say at the four-foot end of the pool.

Some clue-and-answer pairs of note:

1-A, eight letters, “Dessert with coffee.” A nice start, or finish.

1-D, seven letters, “’59 Eldorado claim to fame.” Must be seen to be believed.

8-D, fifteen letters, “New England attraction named by Washington.” Attraction might be slightly misdirective.

13-D, seven letters, “Kind of case.” Where’s mine? Oh, I know.

17-A, eight letters, “Takes for a trial.” My first thought was BETATEST — not something third-person singular.

23-A, five letters, “Canterbury pilgrim.” I haven’t thought of him in years.

30-D, four letters, “It might have to wait for a second.” Yikes, I’m back on a university committee.

36-D, seven letters, “Square structures.” Mildly Stumper-y.

42-D, three letters, “Signal officially replaced in 1992.” I learned something.

44-A, four letters, “Ken Burns topic.” Not one of his best efforts.

My favorite in this puzzle: 49-D, four letters, “Skip.”

No spoilers; the answers are in the comments.

*

Crossword Fiend has a discussion of 30-D, which crosses 41-A, five letters, “Distinctive aspect.” If you follow through to the comments, you’ll see that Evan Birnholz thinks that there was some sort of mix-up and that the puzzle’s answers for 30-D and 41-A are mistakes. I think he’s right (and that my answers are the intended ones).