David Distenfeld author page

In honor of 1-Across, I wrote a crossword themed song parody of "Baby Shark." Please know that I carefully crafted these lyrics over the course of nearly three months, making sure every word, nay every syllable, rang true. I'm not saying it's a work of satirical genius worthy of several Grammys and a Pulitzer, but if someone did happen to say that online, they wouldn't be wrong and I would, like, really appreciate it. Enjoy!

Sung to the tune of "Baby Shark"

Crossword fun, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Crossword fun, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Crossword fun, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Crossword fun.

Puzzle fun, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Puzzle fun, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Puzzle fun, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Puzzle fun.

Word game fun, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Word game fun, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Word game fun, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Word game fun.

Grandma Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Grandma Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Grandma Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Grandma Shark.

[Note: I ran out of synonyms for "crossword," so I just stuck with the original lyrics for this last verse.]

Weird Al, eat your heart out! Now available on Spotify.

This theme type is often called a "vowel movement," where a series of words can be spelled with all five vowel sounds in rotation.

I'd been impressed with other constructors' vowel movements in the past, marveling at their satisfying simplicity. Creating a theme like this seemed easy enough… Yet after weeks of unsuccessfully trying, I wondered if I'd ever produce a solid vowel movement myself. All my initial attempts stunk and were, quite frankly, very sloppy.

So I pushed to achieve tightness in my vowel movement, settling on two word phrases with the rotation in the second word. Usually I make all my puzzles on a laptop, but when a strong vowel movement just wasn't emerging, I decided to work it out with a pencil. There was a point where I thought it shouldn't be this hard.

But then came that explosive moment! When I finally hit on the vowel movement you see today, I couldn't hold it in any longer. After it was fully out of my system, I did a quick check, pushed that fateful button, and—whoosh—it was sent off to the New York Times.

I often think about crossword themes like seats at a bar and hope that with my vowel movement, this stool wasn't already taken. Luckily, when the editors got a whiff of it, they were extremely pleased.

Now do I think this will be the absolute best puzzle you solve all week? Probably not… but I'd settle for number two!

I'm a bit verklempt to be debuting SHABBAT SHALOM on, appropriately enough, a Saturday. Not to get all schmaltzy, but it's so exciting I could plotz or kvell, maybe both, who knows. Mazel tov to me!

With this, my fifth puzzle (but who's counting), I truly feel like part of the New York Times crossword mishpocheh.

Now I hate to be a kvetch, but oy vey did it feel like forever to get a response on this puzzle and I had major shpilkies while waiting; my pulkes were pulsating, my tuchus was twitching. I know — it wasn't pleasant for me either.

But then those mensches on the editing team had the chutzpah to email a big "Yes" and all that other mishegas just disappeared.

If you could have seen me in that moment: my schmatte completely shvitzed through, my punim covered in schmutz, tchotchkes strewn across my bathroom floor. This schlub couldn't have been happier if he was noshing on some blintzes and rugelah, Bubelah.

Anyway, enough of my shitck — enjoy this meshuggeneh crossword and, as my Zayde used to say, "Gesundheit."

I know solvers are often turned off by an abundance of names in the grid, but I assure you the names in this crossword are quite purposeful and personal to me. In fact, this puzzle is filled with dozens, if not baker's dozens, of names that have real meaning in my life. To highlight just a few:

SHELBY (1D) is my sister's name.

DANNY (7D) is the name of one of my oldest friends. It's also the name I'm called by people who've met me once and only vaguely remember my real name.

RYAN (45A) is my college best friend's name.

SEXILED (2D) was sadly a frequent nickname of mine in college.

So was SNOTTY (41D), less so because of any hoity-toity attitude and more because of my severe allergies to dander and pollen.

ELI (39A) is the name I'm called by people who've met me once and don't have the vaguest idea what my real name is.

SIRI (24A) is the name of the virtual assistant in my iPhone 13.

SUZANNE (18A) is the name of the virtual assistant in my gray-blue Nokia flip phone. Still waiting for her to answer my questions.

MANI PEDI (16A) is my rap name.

RAP STAR (14A) is the name I use when I check into nail salons.

And ZOOM MEETING (19D) is the name I'm called by people who've both never met me and apparently don't know what a name is.

Again, I assure you these are all 100% real, or my name isn't Eli Snotty Distenfeld.

It has come to my attention that I am debuting the phrase ALL THE FEELS in today's puzzle, and for that, I would like to apologize.

It came true! First of all, thank you to the New York Times for this incredible honor.

I've spent so many hours in the bathroom mirror practicing what I would say if another puzzle of mine were published. I must acknowledge my fellow constructors this week. Your grids inspire me and I'm privileged to be in your company.

This puzzle would not be possible without my editor Will Shortz. Thank you for seeing something in me that I couldn't see in myself. I'd also like to recognize my very first editor who is sadly no longer with us: Clippy. I still remember the first time I typed "Dear" in a Word document and you popped up to ask, "It looks like you're writing a letter. Would you like help?" I know you're looking down on me now with your steel wire body and huge googly eyes.

To my agents at Hollywood Paws, thank you for taking a chance on a human client.

Of course, I have to thank my amazing wife. What can I say? You stood by me as I received rejection after rejection from The Times because apparently GLUMPERFINKLE is "not a real word nor anything resembling a real word and the editing team is troubled that you keep putting it into your puzzles." Well look at us now!

Oh, it's counting me down.

A few more people I need to thank: Will Smith (not that Will Smith, the other one), Jake from State Farm, the E Street Band, that lady on TikTok who makes the salads, my parents and Oprah. Thank you all for the 70 years and for always dreaming bigger than I would dare.

And, um… please wrap up. Okay.

This is truly the highlight of my Friday and a moment I won't soon top. As "The Hangover Part II" star Mike Tyson once said, "I guess I'm gonna fade into Bolivian."

Kids, you can go to bed now.

DAVID DISTENFELD (Constructor) is delighted to be making his crossword debut in The New York Times. Previous credits include: The Los Angeles Times (Thursday Puzzle), Wall Street Journal (Monday Puzzle), Law & Order: SVU (Puzzled Juror) and Springsteen on Broadway (Understudy). He is perhaps best known for that one time at Candy Kitchen when he won a free pound of fudge.

Mr. Distenfeld dove headfirst into crosswords during the pandemic and has been keeping track of lively phrases of fifteen letters or less ever since. Prior to constructing puzzles, he was hired to coach an English soccer team in an attempt by its owner to spite her ex-husband, eventually winning over players and fans alike with his folksy, optimistic demeanor.

He currently lives in Los Angeles with his wife Enya, his children Esai, Edie & Elia, and his toy poodle NNW — all of whom inspire his constructing on a near daily basis. And while his last name does, in fact, anagram to TD SEINFELD, he has never played professional football nor is he related to noted coffee/car enthusiast Jerry Seinfeld.

Finally, he would like to thank the Times editorial staff for this first acceptance after over a dozen soul-crushing rejections. Can't wait to celebrate with you guys at the after party!!