CW Pencil and

From New York: “After almost six years exclusively selling graphite, the notoriously niche CW Pencil Enterprise is soon to become a full-service office supply shop.”

[But “tourists” has such an awful ring. How about ”visitors to the city”? Like me. Someday, once again.]

One, two, three ...

From The New York Times: “Three Steps for Safe Living.” Even if you find the advice obvious, you might still find it reassuring to read.

See also, from The Washington Post, “Eight facts about the coronavirus to combat common misinformation.”

Today’s Saturday Stumper

Anna Stiga, Anna Stiga, Stan has named you. Her name (“Stan again”) is the pseudonym for easier Newsday Saturday Stumpers by the puzzle’s editor, Stan Newman.

Today’s Stumper, by Ms. Stiga, is pretty easy as Stumpers go. A distinctive feature: it’s totally symmetrical. That’s the technical term, isn’t it? As in, “Man, this puzzle is, like, totally symmetrical.” The puzzle takes shape as four hearts. Top and bottom, easy. The sides were tougher. I found the real difficulties on the right.

Some clue-and-answer pairs I especially liked:

1-D, three letters, “Whom Emerson called ’the jingle-man.’” It’s possible to appreciate one writer sneering at another without participating in the sneer.

11-D, thirteen letters, “Youngsters’ support group.” Probably not meant as a tricky clue, but having the first two and last three letters of the answer made it tricky for me.

13-D, eleven letters, “Agent’s quest.” What kind of agent?

16-A, three letters, “Iliad mischief maker.” It’s always someone else’s fault. Right, Agamemnon?

25-D, five letters, “Board.” A nice reminder of what the word can mean.

30-A, five letters, “Sandwiches since the 1600s.” PBJS — no, doesn’t work.

40-A, four letters, “Collector’s item.” The joy of a mild pun.

51-A, eleven letters, “They’re not serious.” Google shows the singular form peaking in American English in 1932. Clearly, we need to get more serious about criticizing others engaged in their harmless endeavors.

No spoilers: the answers are in the comments.

Peanuts in French

A crossword clue — three letters, “Parisian’s ‘Rats!’” — made me wonder what Charlie Brown says in French. And now I know.

A New York Times article from 1975, “Peanuts Bridges a Language Gap and Captivates the French” gave me an initial answer:

Zut et grands dieux! — Rats and good grief!

They said it would never happen here, but a million French are now hooked on Peanuts, the comic strip by Charles Schulz with the water‐headed beagle Snoopy, the lifetime loser Charlie Brown and the horrible Lucy, all speaking the Gallic tongue here.

But I wanted better evidence. I found some in Google Books, in strips collected in two volumes of Snoopy et le petit monde de “Peanuts” (2014, 2015). Behold:

  [Peanuts, November 11, 1973; September 10, 1978. Click either image for a larger view.]

And here are the originals, from the GoComics Peanuts page, which has the strip’s complete run available for browsing:

  [Peanuts, November 11, 1973; September 10, 1978. Click either image for a larger view.]

Just as in the crossword, the exclamation “Zut!” is the French equivalent of “Rats!” I could not find panels with “Grands dieux!” [Great gods!], but Snippet View makes enough of Peanuts visible to confirm that “Grands dieux!” is (or was) indeed the French equivalent of “Good grief!”

Related reading
All OCA Peanuts posts (Pinboard)

It’s the most wonderful time

Madame Laoutaro speaks:

Robertson Davies, The Lyre of Orpheus (1988).

The Lyre of Orpheus is the third novel of The Cornish Trilogy.

Related reading
All OCA Robertson Davies posts (Pinboard)

SASE, PetSmart

I learned only a few days ago that a self-addressed stamped envelope is an envelope addressed to yourself.

I’ve always known, of course, that the address on a self-addressed stamped envelope is your own. (Well duh.) But I always thought that self-addressed meant that you had addressed the envelope yourself, that you hadn’t left it for someone else to do. But no, self-addressed means that it’s addressed to you yourself.

Elaine learned a few days ago that PetSmart is a pun: Pets Mart, a market for pet supplies.

Yes, it’s called life-long learning. See also Kasie DC, Men’s Wearhouse and TUMS.

Byronic

Geraint Powell has a question. Does Simon Darcourt have an answer?

Robertson Davies, The Lyre of Orpheus (1988).

The Lyre of Orpheus is the third novel of The Cornish Trilogy.

Related reading All OCA Robertson Davies posts (Pinboard)

Recently updated

Words of the year Dictionary.com chooses pandemic.

“As a gifted cook makes soup”

Simon Darcourt, decision-maker:

Robertson Davies, The Lyre of Orpheus (1988).

The Lyre of Orpheus is the third novel of The Cornish Trilogy.

Related reading
All OCA Robertson Davies posts (Pinboard)

“Lola” at fifty

Ray Davies on “Lola” at fifty: “I didn’t think the song would be so ahead of its time.”

I am a latecomer to the greatness of the Kinks. Better late than never. As I wrote in a 2016 post, “I’m now convinced that there were three great pop groups in the 1960s: the Beatles, the Beach Boys, and the Kinks.”

[But hey, New York Times, a National guitar is not a dobro (which is played flat), nor does it have “the hard, tinny sound of a banjo.”]