My sister-in-law Mary Lu has an unforgettable birthday.
1/1.
(And now you’ll all remember it, too.)
For this year’s gift, I wanted to buy her a tree in New York City. You know, from Bette Midler’s plant-a-tree foundation. I thought it would be a nifty way to commemorate her many contributions to that city’s rich cultural scene.
(For those of you who are new to these proceedings, she is a three-time-Tony-Award-winning Broadway producer.)
But time kind of slipped away from me, and six months later it was still on my “To Do” List.
I never purchased that tree.
A funny thing happened on the way to the arboretum.
I met George.
Doctor George Barany, that is. Distinguished McKnight University Professor of Chemistry at the University of Minnesota.
Math and science whiz, devoted son, loving husband, proud papa, brainiac.
And crossword puzzle master with a black belt.
Now hold up!
Before those of you who are NOT interested in crossword puzzles bail out of here from boredom- and with the exceptions of Bob Boehm, Steve Wolff and Herbie Loeb- I don’t think any of you are cruciverbalists- just trust me.
Keep reading.
George and I “cybermet” over a post I had written and put up on the National Puzzler’s League page on Facebook. He read it, liked it and got in touch with me.
With a proposition.
(I told you that you were going to like this. But no, not that kind of proposition.)
He wanted to know if I would like to collaborate with him on a puzzle. He asked me to choose a theme- and then we could do it together.
I was stunned. Simply flabbergasted. (How does one flabber a gast, btw?)
I love doing them, but never in a million years did I think I could ever construct one. In fact, I knew I couldn’t. I tried once. Ha. What a joke.
But the prospect of being able to choose a topic interested me.
Now you’re talking.
I had so many ideas that my head swum. (It did the butterfly.)
And I started running them all by George by email.
Edward Snowden Sidebar EYES ONLY: I would gladly list all the ideas that I had, but in the covert op world of puzzle-making, topics are king.
They’re highly-guarded state secrets because you don’t want some other nerd making it onto Will Shortz’s short list before you do. So just use your own imaginations here. (And if you have a great idea, see me.)
George liked some, shrugged some off, told me about puzzles he had already done on the same topic, was mildly interested and then…
I casually mentioned that I owed my sister-in-law a birthday present. And that it was six months late. And that she happened to be a three-time Tony winner. Would he be interested in making up a puzzle about her?
Lightning struck.
Would he???!!!
Little did I know that I had hit the excitable show biz Barany nerve.
Bu that was only the beginning of what I didn’t know about George.
To wit:
He is the son of two brilliant scientists who cheated death twice. First at the hands of the Nazis, and then fleeing Hungary- where George was born.
The family relocated to New York. Later, in Chicago, both his mother and father did such smart things in research that I can’t even spell them.
Pierre and Marie Curie Sidebar: George’s parents’ achievements, honors, discoveries and scientific and humanitarian accomplishments would take up this entire post. But in my mind, his mother’s greatest triumph was that she was both a brilliant scientist and a great mom. (Not easy. I’m not so hotsy-totsy at either one.)
George is no slouch in the Mensa department, either
Get this. He skipped college.
Went right for his PhD when he was sixteen. Think Good Will Hunting and you’ve got the picture.
He’s also the world’s leading authority on peptides. What exactly are peptides- and do we really need them? (My brother Kenny thought that they were like Tums. I thought they were toothpaste.)
What I did learn throughout our intensive eight days and nights of collaboration was this:
George is a horrible, mean, slavedriver whose brilliant Dr. Xavier exterior hides the soul of a rabid Marxist.
Groucho, that is.
While he should have been overseeing vital research experiments and finding the cure for the common cold, he was busy instead tossing off one-liners, making with the puns and harassing yours truly to come up with better clues, obits for long dead Broadway stars and nicknames of play doctors.
He wanted me to dig up the bar mitzvah speeches of Sir John Gielgud and Lord Olivier. And he demanded that I get out of a bubble bath ASAP and check to see whether the late Julie Harris had had her appendix out or not.
He knew EVERYTHING ELSE. There wasn’t a topic, theme, clue answer or footnote in history to which he didn’t have at his wily fingertips.
Usually, I’m the human Wikipedia. Nope, this time it was all about him. He did the real heavy lifting in this puzzle. But this was way more complicated an endeavor than I had ever realized.
My innocent comment about Mary Lu set off an avalanche of brain work.
(No exaggeration, btw. In order to make the the Tony Awards telecast deadline this past Sunday, we worked 24/7. I didn’t even have time to wash my hair. And it took my computer, two iPads and my iPhone to get ‘er done.)
Not what I had in mind at all. I sort of envisioned a People Magazine level thing. You know, where you spell out C-A-T and K-I-M. (Btw, not sure if K-I-M can spell C-A-T.)
But it was as if I had asked for a toy paper airplane- and George built me the space shuttle instead.
And don’t get me started on links.
OMG.
Remember in the junior theme and how we hated footnotes?
Even today, the words “ibid” and “op.cit” make me anxious. And that damn bibliography page? I detested that freakin’ thing.
But George has a scientist’s love of the precise, and thus he is obsessed with linking. Every single word in the puzzle- and its midrash ***- had to be linked.
*** George’s word for the puzzle’s answers, it’s backstory and general interesting trivia pertaining to it . The word is a Hebrew one, and it is a collection of stories used by Jewish sages to explain sections of the Bible.
But enough kvetching about the mad scientist.
Take a look at the puzzle, click on all the underlined words, and tell me what you think. Remember, when you look at it, be sure and click on everything that’s underlined. You’ll make George so happy.
It’s pretty cool, though.
Honest.
And what’s a nine letter word for what I’m feeling about George?
SPOILER ALERT: It starts with a “G” and ends in “TUDE.”
Please, Dear Readers, Check This Out.
Thanks, Ellen, for this totally unexpected surprise. You certainly have a way with words, and there’s no way that I can be cross with what you wrote. I learned a lot from you during the cluing and polishing of the puzzle, and it was a pleasure to find out all sorts of interesting things about your sister-in-law, brother, and the rest of your wonderfully accomplished and fascinating family. The midrash was even more fun to write than the puzzle, and can be appreciated by totally non-puzzle types. Now if I only can figure out your captcha! GB
ps Try this for your word that starts with G and ends with TUDE.
I’m glad you approve, maestro. The pleasure was all mine. And I’m so glad you mastered the captcha. I was, in fact, a little worried that you might not be able to solve it.
Ellen, before your loyal readers conclude that I’m all fun & games, let me just direct them to the websites created after my parents passed away: Mom (3 years ago, tomorrow) and Dad (just 6 weeks later). Married almost 62 years, they spent the last 37 years of their lives in Chicago as faculty members (and then emeriti) of the University of Illinois Medical School. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about them both (and I know that Ellen recently lost her Dad, so my heart goes out to her family).
Thanks, George. I’m glad you added this. They were both so extraordinary that they deserve their own post. Preferably written by Niels Bohr. (No joke.) And thanks for the shout out to my dad. He would have dug this.
Don’t worry, Ellen. Niels Bohr already has his own tribute puzzle, published last fall in the Chronicle of Higher Education to commemorate an important scientific anniversary. Just about ten years ago, my son and I were in Copenhagen and had our picture taken in front of the house that Bohr was born in.
Figures. The closet I came was when Kenny, Natasha and I saw the play “Copenhagen” in London. Really great play, though.
How did Mary Lu do on the puzzle?
Well, she got 58 Acoss right away. But as someone who doesn’t do crossword puzzles, I think she had to cheat with the Midrash for the rest of them. She was very surprised by its existence, however. George found some things about her family for his links that she had never seen before. Thanks, Michael. Hope to see you in the three D world soon.
My father was the crossword puzzle king. When he wasn’t doing something else (cartooning, playing the piano, singing, painting, buildng stuff, scrimshaw….) he was doing a crossword puzzle, includng one in the Tribune when I was a kid where you could win a million dollars or something (he didn’t) and the damned kind that had no numbers or black dividing squares. RIDDLE: which of my parents was once an answer in the NYT Crossword? (See your messages).
I love the “patternless” one, too. You’re dad was a polymath. Sorry he never won the million dollar one. But he struck it rich with you. I’ll get back to you with the answer soon. I’m going to have to ask George. Thanks, John.
[Hint: His first name was Rick.]
Nice! And thanks for the hint. My brain is still in lockdown from all the hoops I gone through this past week.
As I told you, it is the most amazing gift I have ever seen. Yes I got 58 across. And several others. It is a work in progress. Like me! Thanks again George and Ellen. xo
This was a really unfair test for a non-puzzler. But happy I could do it for you. You do have the most interesting past, present and future. Proud to be even a small part of it all. The tree will have to wait til next year. Like the Cubs. Oy.
Mary Lu, In nearby Hormel, Minnesota, they like SPAM A LOT.
George, behave yourself! Don’t I smell something burning in the lab?….
Sounds like a very interesting girl!!!!!
Do you want to meet her? I’ll ask George to fix you up.
I don’t have time to tackle this now, but I know the answer to 54 down right away.
I bet you do! Please give it a try when you do have time, Fred. There’s lots of things I know you know in there. Thanks, buddy.
Wow, I’ve never been called a 5 syllable word before!! Then I looked up what a cruciverbalist meant. Hey, I’m (21) down with that!! Oh, and by the way, that 59 down clue….”Steve” fits but I just couldn’t figure out the answer to all those other clues around it. Happy birthday Mary Lu.
Thanks for playing, Steve! And extra points for nice word play. Glad all is well out there and nothing is on fire.
Steve, Check out the earlier version where we used WOLFF instead of WOOLF. In the “isn’t it a small world” department, an organic chemist named Steve Wolff (no relation, Ellen assures me) served on my Ph.D. thesis final defense committee back in 1977 at The Rockefeller University. Of the other three committee members, one already had a Nobel Prize (Stanford Moore), one would get a Nobel Prize later (Bruce Merrifield), and the outside reviewer (Ron Breslow from Columbia) was a future winner of the National Medal of Science, among many other honors. GB
What an illustrious name. I’ll have Steve name check himself. Btw, do you want to write Sunday’s post and I’ll teach your students how to construct a rapid particle accelerator? Deal or no deal?
As usual, Ellen, your prose and writing skills are nothing short of wonderful.
Just one suggestion. If you are looking for a tree to plant as a gift, plant one in Israel…..NOT New York!
I’m now heading to that crossword puzzle to give it a shot…………
Good idea, Bernie. I’ll remember that. And be sure and click on the first “here” in the sentence to the left of ML’s photograph. It’s a really fun chest sheet. Thanks, pal. Next year in…
Gee Ken Roffe, that was such a cute thing to say. Maybe we will have to meet one day?!
I’ll get George to introduce you two. He knows everyone.
“Cruciverbalist” me??? K-I-M can not spell C-A-T.
Herbie
Thanks, Herbie. You’re a living D-O-L-L.