Byline: PETER ST. ONGE Knight Ridder Newspapers
First, a word about why crossword puzzles can be annoying. Make that four words: You're not smart enough. Deep down you sort of know this is true. After all, solving someone else's puzzle is an intellectually submissive act, like letting a teacher give you a test.
Yet there you are, Sunday morning, you and your newspaper crossword. You've got your oversized cup of shade-grown Costa Rican, some soft jazz, your glasses pushed down on your nose, just so. It's all sufficiently highbrow.
And then, 6 across. Four letters. The clue is ``Celebes Ox.''
The answer is ANOA, but you will never get that, even if someone spotted you the ``A'' and the ``N.'' Anoa? You're still working on ``Celebes'' (an East Indies country, by the way) but really, you're thinking of other words, all with four letters, because here you are making an effort toward intelligence on a weekend morning, and you're getting your brain stomped on by some freakishly smart crossword maker who's probably had more reference books than second dates.
But Nick Grivas is willing to let you in on a secret: ``Fill'' words.
Your crossword's constructor probably found ``Anoa'' on a word list and liked it because it has three vowels, which are handy when you're building a puzzle. Anoa's definition? The constructor didn't know, either, until he or she looked it up.
If he were Grivas, he probably wouldn't have used the word at all, because he doesn't like to put clues in his puzzle that he can't solve himself. And Grivas is a pretty ordinary guy. He likes golf and soft jazz. He's a Charlotte neurosurgeon who's never really thought about the ironic possibilities of fixing brains at work and testing them with his hobby. He drives a minivan.
He's been …
