Mel Taub, the brilliant mind who crafted The New York Times’ much-loved Puns and Anagrams puzzles—a delightful blend of clever wordplay and famously groan-inducing puns—passed away on September 14 at his home in Austin, Texas. He was 97 years old.
His son, Daniel, shared the news of his passing.
Known affectionately as ‘PandAs,’ Puns and Anagrams crosswords were a delightful diversion from the standard fare, often compared to the challenging British cryptic puzzles. While some serious cruciverbalists might have deemed them ‘lightweight,’ PandAs garnered a loyal following who relished their unique charm, especially the satisfaction of unraveling a brilliant anagram or a truly awful (in the best way) pun.
Deb Amlen, a senior puzzle editor at The Times, fondly remembered Mr. Taub as ‘the king of the groaners’ within their puzzle community, noting that his creations were always crafted ‘to put a smile on your face.’
To get a taste of his genius, consider one of his puzzles from 2017:
The article originally featured an embedded Puns and Anagrams puzzle from 2017, allowing readers to experience Mel Taub’s signature wordplay firsthand.
Among Taub’s celebrated creations was the clue ‘Offspring of many fodders,’ which famously led to the answer: DODDERS (a type of vine, according to Merriam-Webster).
Another classic, from 2017, offered the clue ‘Male or female, in Boston,’ with the clever (and slightly painful) solution: AGENDA. This played on the Boston accent, where ‘gender’ sounds remarkably like ‘agenda.’ Truly a master of the groan!
During his working life, Mr. Taub served as an underwriter for the Guardian Life Insurance Company of America. Yet, his true passion came alive at his family’s Brooklyn dining room table, where he dedicated nights and weekends to crafting his intricate puzzles. Each one, averaging ten puns, required approximately eight hours to perfect.
In a 1982 interview with The Four Star Puzzler magazine, he revealed his starting ritual: ‘I start each puzzle with a pun I have never used before, and then I pray.’ The magazine noted his rapid-fire delivery, reminiscent of his comedic heroes, Henny Youngman and Rodney Dangerfield, a style that clearly infused his unique brand of humor into his puzzles.
Another prime example of his wit: the clue ‘Salad ingredient on the Titanic,’ with the fitting and chilling answer: ICEBERG.
He once explained his craft to The Puzzler, stating, ‘Each definition is a word game in itself.’ He particularly favored anagrams where the letters cleverly hinted at the solution, offering ‘He doesn’t have an end seat’ for STANDEE as a prime example.
Many of his fans found a deeper layer of enjoyment when they discovered that ‘Mel Taub’ itself is an anagram for ‘mutable,’ a perfectly apt description for his evolving wordplay. Amused (or perhaps frustrated) puzzlers might also have noted it anagrams to ‘bum tale.’
The very first Puns and Anagrams puzzle debuted in The Times’ Sunday magazine on February 15, 1942, appearing alongside the newspaper’s inaugural crossword. Titled ‘Riddle Me This,’ it was attributed to ‘Anna Gram,’ a pseudonym that current Times puzzle editor Will Shortz suspects belonged to the paper’s first puzzle editor, Margaret Farrar.
At just 26, Mr. Taub’s journey to publication was persistent; it took him three attempts to see his work in print, initially submitting traditional crosswords.
His first rejection from Ms. Farrar noted, ‘This is an interesting puzzle, and I foresee you will land in the puzzle corner. I don’t take to the crossing of djo and oont.’ She was referring to answers like ‘djo’ (a Japanese unit of measurement) and ‘oont’ (an Indian camel), which she found less than ideal.
Despite the critique, she encouraged him with a hopeful note: ‘I hope you’ll come again. We pay $10 for the dailies.’
His second submission was also declined due to what Ms. Farrar deemed ‘contrived abbreviations,’ such as ‘diph’ for diphthong. However, his perseverance paid off. His third puzzle was published on October 24, 1954, followed by his first Puns and Anagrams puzzle the next May. For this, he earned $15.
Beyond PandAs, Taub also crafted double-crostics, publishing them in various books, though not for The Times. He also contributed occasional traditional crosswords and even some cryptic puzzles to the newspaper.
One notable creation, ‘Hail to the Chief,’ featured in The New York Times Magazine on January 17, 1993, served as a tribute to President-elect William Jefferson Clinton. Remarkably, Mr. Clinton returned the completed puzzle, filled out in pen, the very next day, with a personal note expressing his enjoyment ‘in between spurts of speech writing.’
A memorable clue from that puzzle: ‘The White House is her Everest,’ with the answer: HILLARY.
Melvin Seymour Taub was born on September 4, 1928, in Brooklyn, the youngest of David and Esther (Schwartz) Taub’s four children. His father, a part-time bootlegger during Prohibition, later worked in a luggage factory.
Mel pursued an English degree at Brooklyn College, initially aspiring to be a comedy writer. When that path didn’t materialize, he transitioned into the insurance industry, where he remained until, as his son Daniel recalled, his exceptionally precise retirement at ‘63.5 years of age.’ He married Phyllis Spinrad, an administrator at Brooklyn College, in 1959.
He is survived by his sons Daniel and Dave, and one grandson. His wife, Phyllis, a crossword constructor herself with two published puzzles in The Times, passed away in 2023.
Although Puns and Anagrams puzzles continue to grace The Times Magazine every two months, they are no longer available online. However, a significant collection of about 100 of Mr. Taub’s ingenious puzzles can be found on xwordinfo.com, a dedicated website for puzzle enthusiasts.
Mr. Taub estimated he contributed an impressive 350 to 400 PandAs to The Times throughout his career, with his final puzzle appearing on October 20, 2019.
As his wife, Phyllis, humorously remarked in 1982, ‘He doesn’t just play with words; he preys on them,’ a testament to his relentless pursuit of linguistic delight.