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Jim here, sitting in for Jeff Chen who is celebrating Día de los REYES (Three Kings' Day) six months late.

If you drive out to Belle Fourche, South Dakota this weekend (and why wouldn't you?) you'll encounter a cairn with a hand-written sign declaring it the Center of the Nation. That's not what 38-Down asks, though. It wants the "Home of the continental U.S.'s geographic center" where we must somehow believe that Alaska isn't part of a continent, so we push down to Lebanon, KANSAS, and that's our answer.

Part of the joy of crosswords is that you learn something new or, even better, dredge up some factoid you'd forgotten. Clues are different than school tests. You don't have to calculate the geographic center of mass, let alone show your work. You make educated guesses based on other information you collect — how many letters, what letters you already have with what level of confidence, etc. The clue could be "state somewhere in the middle of the U.S." or, since it's a Friday, "place somewhere in the middle" but that would deny you the joy of feeling smug next time a geographic center question comes up at Trivia Night.

The previous NYT crossword editor, Eugene Maleska, targeted solvers who had, what was known at the time as a "classical liberal education." You had to know your Byron, Shelley, and Keats, Norman Rockwell and the Norman Invasion of 1066, and world geography. You also had to know some French, the International Language of Diplomacy, in case you ever needed to negotiate a treaty or sentence a war criminal.

Modern puzzles like today's reflect modern America, relying more on Spanish language and Mexican culture. That makes it tougher for people like me who grew up in a country where French is an official language, but it's fairer for everyone else.