Crosswords

Presidio Sentinel San Diego, January 2014, 

(Originally published in the S. D. Union-Tribune, Aug. 2009, “Slants/Rants”)

By Laura Walcher

If everyone did crosswords, the world would be a better place.

   

We who experience undue stress in our lives (most of us) might want to share this inside secret.   

I am a recognized serene person.  In fact, I’ve actually been cited and commended for my easy-going nature.  

This is entirely due to crosswords.

It’s nearly impossible to think of the real stress and complications in your life while struggling with a crossword puzzle.  If you are not deeply searching for a four-letter word for infinite (vast), you are in deep contemplation about the French word for vineyard (cru), or experiencing a triumphant high for remembering that Tokyo Rose’ real name was Iva Toguri.   

It simply offsets worrying about your job or where your children are.  Believe me, this is very relaxing.

There’s satisfaction to be had, too, when you’re just guessing and you’ve actually GUESSED right.  See?  You’ve intuitively resolved an important issue of the moment - giving you exquisite confidence for real-life conundrums. 

You may be thinking hard about a word, and suddenly realize that it’s the definition that’s throwing you off.   Take “refuse.” It could be a noun or a verb or refer entirely to something in Shakespeare. Or Beowulf.

  

I worried when I began writing this - how am I going to gather all the examples I need?    Easy:  any daily paper can deliver - to say nothing of the Sunday puzzle - more demanding and always theme’d.  Once you “get” the theme for the Sunday puzzle, you might have it made, and by then it’s the end of a very calm day.  (Or it might already be Monday.)

I once knew a guy who regularly finished the Sunday New York Times puzzle by l0 a.m. – on Sunday. I never talked to him again.

It’s popularly thought that crosswords help maintain an educated and  agile mind -   an as-yet undecided issue.

Certain categories continually defy me, so maybe the educational angle is iffy.  For instance, I’m not good on biological suffixes, nor Greek legends, tho I have learned that “ase” is an enzyme suffix and Leto is the Mother of Artemis.  I may, however, be the only one is my circle who knows the rivers Oise and  Aare. I worry, too, that contemporary “culture” will  creep into crosswords - like who survived “Survivor,” or the winner of “American Idol,” or oddly-named rock groups or star-for-a-day performers. Scary.

Besides being unable to solve a puzzle altogether, which while frustrating, doesn’t really matter (in the scheme of things, the only downside of crossword puzzles is when the solution turns out to be - a stretch.  For instance, why is “eat” the solution to the definition, ‘tuck in?”

People who put together crosswords are very under-appreciated. Except, of course, for Will Shortz.  If you have to ask, “who’s Will Shortz?” you probably shouldn’t read this piece altogether.  ###

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BARNEY CAN’T BE BOTHERED …

Presidio Sentinel San Diego, December 2013

By Laura Walcher 

Frenzied!  Now, you wouldn’t expect this adjective to be 

used to describe a dog –or any dog -  but after careful observation and consideration – this is it:  Ginger is one

excitable dog.  

Yes, this column is about Barney, and in his youth, Barney was occasionally frenzied.  But now, in his dotage, the only

motivations for that much excitement are  his declining enemies’ list (i.e. Boxers) and, as had been exhaustively reported, the parking ticket scooters. (We still haven’t figured that one out. But we have lost a few puzzled parking scooter  driver friends.) 

Ginger, however, is a puppy; the newbie canine in son Bill Walcher’s family.  At just a few months old, she is strong and smart, and…frenzied. Ruby, who’d been an “only” dog there ‘til Gnger showed up, has resigned herself to long-suffering-itis.  Around here, it’s something like “bombs away!” when that branch of the clan shows up. Ginger makes a maniacal bee-line for  Barney’s food. Only when that’s been inhaled, she makes the ‘rounds, and heaven help us if we get in the way of that swinging tail. 

There was a time when Barney would have gone to war over his food. Today, he doesn’t merely sigh (“here she goes again!”). He cedes.  He’s cool.  Maybe he’s just not hungry, but we think it’s… the wisdom of age.   

Herewith, Barney’s lessons learned: 

- He cedes over the food issue because  - he’s developed patience.  He now knows he’ll eventually win out; after these competitors have gone home, he’ll get a bonus: his food – and  a walk. 

- On these walks, he has bagged the “look both ways while crossing the street” lesson.  He’s learned, if you look four ways and no cars are coming, you can cross faster -  diagonally. 

Cats scratch. 

Can a dog who’s become deaf “hear” the distinction between “Stay!” and “Okay!” ?  Yes. 

Yawn.  If he doesn’t need to go, he doesn’t need to go. One eager walk-offerer could possibly get a bored glance; at an invitation to a walk, Barney might even stretch or turn over – acknowledging  - but  not to be confused with -  enthusiasm. 

Unless, see previous bullet, it’s me. Per excellent judgment in his dotage, I’m the favorite. I need only to wave my pinkie or glance door-ward, and he turns from couch potato into a frenzy of action, proving, as he occasionally does, that the athlete’s still in there somewhere. Just judiciously meted out.  

Fortunately for society at large, Barney’s enemies’ list has declined.  We’re actually quite impressed with his senior conflict avoidance techniques, like escaping to the bathroom rug when exuberant youngsters like Ginger show up, or - - just as unwelcome, company that he doesn’t really know.  And doesn’t want to know. And, instead of direct counter- attacking  those little guys – Chuhuahuas and Pekes – who go totally ballistic at the very sight of Barney, these days he wins  - by staring them down.   

Barney?  He just can’t be bothered. ###

Note:  Barney left us on Nov. 22, 2013.  He was a good dog.  RIP, Barney!