I love crossword puzzles. I am no good at them mind you, I usually can’t even finish the puzzle in the back of the free daily Express I get on the way to the metro, but I still love them. Maybe it is genetic. My grandfather used to do them obsessively, in pen. He was really really good at them. Apparently I got the “love crosswords” gene and not the “really really good at crosswords” gene. Hmph.

I was on a train last week and watched as my co-traveller, Gina Glantz, channeled my grandfather’s spirit and finished a crossword puzzle faster than anyone I have ever seen. I sat across from her, staring in amazement, as she filled in every single blank square on a New York Times crossword puzzle, without pausing, until there were no blank squares left. She brushed off my admiration and explained that she was doing a Monday New York Times, so there really was no challenge whatsoever. Um, yeah.

Gina then went on to complain that even the Sunday New York Times puzzles are not that hard anymore. She sent me a copy of the puzzle so I could see just how simple and ridiculous the Sunday Times has gotten. Um, yeah.

I am thinking of sending Gina one of my Express crosswords, to show her just how easy “easy” really is. I guess if I am going to do that, I better finish one first.