
Dear Friends,
In our house, November 4 is a holiday. From flowers to a fancy dinner, Kate’s birthday gets the full treatment every year, and this year the celebration started about 12 hours early. On election night, she settled onto the couch with our French bulldog Margot snoring at her hip. She watched the returns come in and texted the good news and funny memes to friends from Denver to Chicago to the Hamptons. Across the room in the comfy chair, I wrote the birthday poem that you will find below.
Two keen-eyed employees at Crepeville this morning guessed Kate was twenty years younger than she is. Our brunch brimmed with joy, even more so after one of Kate’s best friends joined us to discuss the news of the day.
Tuesday’s results left me more hopeful about America than I’ve felt in some time. My poem attempts to share some of that mood, along with my gratitude for the woman who has shared election nights, and every other night, with me since I convinced her to move to California in 1991.
Happy birthday, Kate.
Many Happy Returns
for Kate, on the eve of a big birthday
I.
The map came in like a winter weather
report, blue rising off both coasts,
blue climbing toward the prairie,
the stubborn middle, county after county,
district after district,
until the screen burned blue
as a pilot light,
warming our hearts on election night.
II.
And there on the couch, the precinct
I would carry in any year:
Kate, under Geneva’s favorite blanket,
is lit from below by her phone,
wearing the smile that first won me
in London forty years ago
when the rain kept knocking
at our England’s Lane tall sash windows
like an insistent canvasser who knew
exactly which blue door to try.
III.
At Kate’s hip, Margot,
our French bulldog, our snub-nosed loaf,
our snoring sandbag on the levee of the cushions,
her bat ears swiveling toward Rachel Maddow
at every fresh cheer.
IV.
Kate’s thumbs run a campaign office tonight.
She sends the good news out in volleys and memes:
a rebel who twin-saluted her new fans
while marching out of an extremist rally;
a quip honed so fine that a Denver friend snorts;
a row of blue hearts all the way from her phone
to partisans in Illinois, the Hamptons,
and several in Yolo County.
Each notification chime prompts another grin.
V.
At midnight the returns
roll over into another kind of count.
Now it’s your birthday,
and I am calling the race
before the pundits wake and clear their throats.
Look at the life you’ve made, district by district.
The Milwaukee district. The Lombard district.
The London district, with its endless church tours.
The Chicago lakefront and its knife of wind,
which you traded, on my promise,
for the flat Davis precinct of bicycles and crêpes,
Geneva’s first steps across the Sacramento kitchen tile,
Jukie’s schemes, his fiery hair and smile,
and Truman’s late headlights sweeping the driveway.
VI.
Let the anchors loosen their ties.
Let the workers sweep up the confetti
in ballrooms three time zones away.
Our victory party fits under one lamp:
one dog, one blanket, one woman
laughing out loud at her phone,
and me in the comfy chair, a voter of one,
writing this poem,
casting the ballot I have cast since 1992,
for the smile, for the sharp tongue and the open heart,
for the woman who watches the returns
as if the whole country had finally
come round to her side of the couch.
Happy birthday, Kate.
Many happy returns, my love.
—
The time has changed, so the blankets come out at Sudwerk for the pub quiz! Bring Your Own Blankets. My thanks go to longtime sub James for hosting tonight’s pub quiz on an evening when I will be elsewhere celebrating my wife Kate. Cheer him as you would me. Also, take heed that the quiz is shorter than 700 words long, Wordsmiths and Scrabble players will do well again tonight. There will be no questions specifically about Valkyries.
In addition to topics raised above, tonight’s pub quiz will feature questions on acorns, African cities, alphabetical rosters, athletes, beetles, British blends, calisthenics routines, captains, champions, cheerful moods, costumes, crossword answers, drivers, episode counts, expatriates, explorers, franchises, horn sections, kitchens, Latin genera, losing streaks, megacities, musician jargon, myths, New England cultures, new wave bands, news hosts, offbeat rhythms, pharmacy shelves, pickers, quarterback statistics, recalls, record books, replicator orders, revenue forecasts, river deltas, romances, scoring records, seasons, series, state capitols, stir fries, Sundance premieres, villas, voyages, current events (especially), books and authors, and Shakespeare.
Thanks to all the patrons who have been enjoying fresh Pub Quiz content. Ryan has just joined at the silver tier! Thanks also to new subscribers Janet, Jasmine, Joey, Carly, and The Nevergiveruppers! Every week I check the Patreon to see if there is someone new to thank. I also thank The Original Vincibles, Summer Brains, The Outside Agitators, John Poirier’s team Quizimodo, Gena Harper, the conversationally entertaining dinner companions The Mavens who keep attending, despite their ambitious travel schedules and the cost of avocado. Thanks to everyone who supports the Pub Quiz on Patreon. I would love to add your name or that of your team to the list of pub quiz boosters. I appreciate your backing this pub quiz project of mine!
Best,
Dr. Andy
Three questions from last week:
- Dolores Huerta. Huerta co-founded the National Farm Workers Association in the same year that Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum was born. Name the decade.
- Popes. Future Pope Leo XIV founded a Catholic organization in Chiclayo in 2018 to assist newcomers to his adopted home country in South America. Name the country.
- Pop Music. Which British band grew so tired of its debut single “Creep” that it dropped the song from its live sets for years, then brought it back during a 2016 Paris concert?










