Crossing Out Words

As much as we writers and editors for the paper would hate to admit it, the crossword and Sudoku were pretty much the most popular part of the paper. More than anything else -- the columns, comics, interviews, or news stories -- people loved them some crossword.

In fact, the page where the crossword and Sudoku were located was the most popular page on the paper. If the newspaper was New York State, the crossword page was Westchester county. This prime piece of real estate was rabidly fought over by the columnists (myself included). We knew that if we grabbed that parcel of land next to the crossword, our readership would have the possibility of spiking once someone became confounded by 17 down and let their eyes wander a little. People doing the Sudoku would maybe read two of our paragraphs before returning and trying to figure out why there were two 9s in the same box.

Now, some papers are cutting their crosswords, and, of course, the sky is falling. The NYT's Style section soberly details the rending of garments and general uproar that this editorial decision has caused, and, for once, the styles editors may not be exaggerating.

I cannot begin to imagine the riots that would have ensued if we had ever pulled the crossword or Sudoku. We, the editors, used to joke about this. If we sabotaged either puzzle and made it impossible to solve, what would happen? How many activities would grind to a halt while people tried to sort it out? When would people finally give up on their impossible puzzle and realize that the class in which they had not been paying attention had already ended, and a new one in which they were not enrolled had already begun?

Again, this is not an exaggeration. Once we accidentally ran repeat crossword puzzles. That is, we ran the same Crossword puzzle on Tuesday that had run on Monday. I awoke to an overflowing inbox and several text messages, all wondering what the heck had happened and how could we be so incompetent. All day, people kept coming up to me and asking me what the deal was, where their crossword was, what they were supposed to do, and why did The Sun hate America. In the cafeteria, the library, class, the sidewalks, even the bars, people kept confronting me. We had inadvertently altered the daily routine of thousands, and we sure as heck heard about it.

The 'Crossword Incident,' as it was known, did not cause produce the largest number of complaints we got at the paper over a single day. People wisely (?) reserved their invective for more odious affronts, such as what a twenty-year old history major thought about the Gaza Strip.

Nevertheless, that day it became clear to us just how much people loved their crossword puzzle, and how much they were dependent on it. Some people seem downright addicted to it -- see the lady's quote in the NYT about how solving every clue is "like having multiple orgasms."

...

OK. I personally never confused the sex column with the Sudoku, but to each their own. Current Sunnies, please never neglect your crossword duties, lest you be attacked by an army of pencil-wielding crazies with their erasers worn thin.

Now, if you will excuse me, I am "Three letters. 'Not In.'"