Dad, i.m.

My dad, James Leddy, died eight years ago today.

He showed up in a dream in July, a couple of days before what would have been his ninety-fifth birthday. He was in a van in our garage, about to back out. I was in the back seat. He asked, apropos of nothing, what “6A” meant.

I realized when I woke up that “6A” must mean August 6.

My dad appears in many OCA posts. Here’s a post with what I wrote after his death.

Dictée writ large

From NPR:

In France, the time-honored tradition of the dictée — or dictation — is alive and well. Recently, 1,700 desks were set up on the Champs Élysées in Paris for the world’s largest dictée session.

Here’s a brief clip of what it looked like.

[I added italics and accents to NPR’s words.]

Today’s Saturday Stumper

Today’s Newsday  Saturday Stumper, by “Lester Ruff” (Stan Newman) is supposed to be on the easy side, but it took me half an hour’s worth of effort. I’d say “May B. Ruff” might be a better name for today’s Stumper. Or “S. Purdy Ruff”? The clue that opened up much of the puzzle for me: 69-A, eight letters, “He said ‘Appreciation is a holy thing.’” Thank you, sir, and not for the first time.

Some clue-and-answer pairs of note:

1-D, six letters, “Check writing.” Always. But sometimes more than one check is needed.

8-D, fifteen letters, “Social media ancestor.” Eh, I’m not sure about this. Social media is for everyone.

11-D, six letters, “iPod ancestor.” A little strained.

12-D, eight letters, “Putting holes in, perhaps.” Getting this right made finishing the puzzle possible for me.

17-A, eight letters, “Imagined opponent of a drawn dog.” I smiled.

22-A, five letters, “Après-ski amenity.” I went for the obvious, and the obvious appeared right for a while.

27-A, five letters, “Training area.” Stumper-y.

29-D, four letters, “Level.” EVEN? FAIR? RAZE? TELL? So much indirection. I like it.

37-A, fifteen letters, “Not quite ‘Correct.’” And pretty bland. Somehow I immediately imagined someone in Hi and Lois saying it.

39-D, eight letters, “Lamb or kid.” I did not know the word.

43-A, five letters, “Be orally awesome, these days.” I dunno about this definition.

60-D, four letters, “Novelist Sinatra brawled with.” Yes, to brawl does not require that one resort to fisticuffs.

64-A, eight letters, “Verb related to ‘island.’” MAROONED?

My favorite in this puzzle: 51-D, six letters, “Homeric wise guy.”

No spoilers; the answers are in the comments.

Weaving through traffic

From The Washington Post:

Trump’s campaign team was miffed by a lack of traffic support from local police after he arrived in Washington, forcing the motorcade to weave through rush-hour traffic. Other motorists attempted to change lanes between [across?] the motorcade, showing less deference than typical for an average funeral procession. The welcome from onlookers at the courthouse was occasionally hostile, with several middle fingers from bikers and spectators along the highway from the airport.

Am I small-minded enough to take pleasure in the details of these fleeting humiliations? You bet.

Nancy synchronicity

[Nancy, July 27, 1950 and August 4, 2023. Click for a larger view.]

I mentioned in a post yesterday morning that windows in Nancy are often open: “Apartment dwellers talk to pedestrian Nancy from their open windows; objects fly through open windows with impunity.” And then today’s yesterday’s Nancy and today’s Nancy both have an open window. Well, I’ll be.

Related reading
All OCA Nancy posts (Pinboard)

[The pedestrian in the first panel is on stilts.]

On Louis Armstrong’s birthday

[“Musician Louis Armstrong (L) in his neighborhood barber shop.” Photograph by John Loengard. Queens, New York, 1965. From the Life Photo Archive. Click for a much larger view.]

Louis Armstrong was born on August 4, 1901.

Related reading
All OCA Louis Armstrong posts (Pinboard)

Swing, swing, swing

On MSNBC just now: “He left his golf club in Bedminster, New Jersey.” Which made me think of him carrying one as a weapon, ready to swing at someone or something.

A Steven Millhauser interview

It’s from NPR. When Sacha Pfeiffer says that several of Millhauser’s stories make her feel “slightly unsettled, a little viscerally uneasy,” he replies: “If you have to go to your medicine cabinet, I would feel guilty. And I will pay for that medication.” And he adds:

“But unsettled in a way that is not just irritation is fine with me. A story that just makes you feel soothed and satisfied, you might as well watch a rom-com on TV. But if a story makes you question certain things that you’ve taken for granted, I think that’s ideal. It shows you that the world is not necessarily more disturbing, but more complex than you had assumed. And that, I would argue, is a good thing.”

Related reading
All OCA Steven Millhauser posts (Pinboard)

Hat trick

[Nancy, July 26, 1950. Click for a larger view.]

In today’s yesterday’s Nancy, a window is open, as Nancy windows so often are. Apartment dwellers talk to pedestrian Nancy from their open windows; objects fly through open windows with impunity. As did this bird.

Related reading
All OCA Nancy posts (Pinboard)

One family’s dictionary

From the Indiana University Libraries blog, the story of one family’s “lexical bible,” an 1823 copy of John Walker’s A Critical Pronouncing Dictionary and Expositor of the English Language, a dictionary first published in 1791.

Related reading
All OCA dictionary posts (Pinboard)