Dear Friends of the Pub Quiz,
Of all the enjoyable duties that Chancellor May of UC Davis gets to perform, I imagine that one of his favorites must be helping the freshmen move into dorms every September.
No matter how digitized we become, with the huge record collections and book collections that we transport in our phones, and no matter how much easier our lives might be made with the help of AI, we are still physical beings. Although often encumbered with too many possessions, we are still delighted to be moving bodily through the world.
Dancers know this. Martha Graham said, “Movement never lies. It is a barometer telling the state of the soul’s weather to all who can read it.” Philosophers know this. Friedrich Nietzsche said, “Sit as little as possible; give no credence to any thought that was not born outdoors while one moved about freely — in which the muscles are not celebrating a feast, too: all prejudices come from the intestines. The sedentary life — as I have said once before — is the real sin against the holy spirit.”
Walkers like me know this, too. I saw Rebecca Solnit give a talk on campus the day after my father died 20 years ago, and I have been reading her essays ever since. In her book Wanderlust: A History of Walking, Rebecca Solnit writes, “Exploring the world is one of the best ways of exploring the mind, and walking travels both terrains.”
Just over a week ago, I got to help a friend move out of her Woodland condo and into a new home in West Sacramento. I was not my friend Margaret’s strongest helper, but I was one of the most energetic, arriving early to get my steps in and loads carried before running off to host a charity event. I climbed 38 flights of stairs that day, more than three times my average of 11, and got a significant workout in the form of what trainers call “functional fitness.”
I was feeling rather dysfunctional when I was asked to help carry a full size upright piano down two flights of stairs. Trained to love old films by my father, I immediately envisioned scenes from the 1932 Academy Award-winning short Laurel and Hardy film The Music Box, which we can watch in its entirety on YouTube.
Luckily, I was one of three movers, chosen because my lithe frame could squeeze between the piano and the stairwell as we rounded corners. I’m happy to report that our trip to and on the stairs was far less musical than that of Laurel and Hardy. One wonders what the Three Stooges would do with such an assignment.
On my walks, I’ve passed many a family moving endless boxes into a new home, often a student apartment, and wanted to offer to help, but as a longtime faculty member, I have an obligation not to come off as creepy, so we keep walking by, preferring walked miles over climbed flights.
But the Chancellor, he dons his gloves and perhaps his nametag and gets to walk right up to strangers who quickly become friends, or at least fans, and he gets to substitute a functional workout for another trip to the Rec Hall. And I bet that so far he has not dropped a single piano.
If you are curious to know how my wife Kate’s foot is doing, please read the long postscript at the end of this week’s newsletter.
Please plan to partake in the Pub Quiz festivities on this pleasant evening at Sudwerk in Davis. Bring your team to the beautiful outdoor patio where the misters will be misting and where we have room for almost everyone. The jollity will be unfiltered. As Albert Schweitzer said, “Happiness is the only thing that multiplies when you share it.” I encourage you to come early to snag a table. We filled the restaurant and patio last week, and I expect that we will continue to do so throughout the school year and beyond. Also, tonight I plan to move the quiz along quickly — the entire quiz is only 859 words long!
In addition to topics raised above, tonight’s pub quiz will feature questions on angels and their counterparts, billionaires, old nippers, Benedictine creatures, printed errors, liberties, guards, horses, large cities, people named Pierre, adopted fathers, early balls, hours, French women, John Malkovich, forgotten roles, hackles of sorrow, people born in Oakland, Mars, spruces and pines, places that start with the letter M, presidential trivia, John Lennon’s birthday, the roles of rolls, Saturday Night Live, young legs in the never garden, rhythmic communications, original teams, race cars, aces, unusual measurements, painters who changed jobs, implications, French commonalities, understudies, bodies, devoted players, T leaders, valuable minerals, oceans, roses, basketball players, beloved animals, unbelted books, scientific units, capitals, current events, books and authors, and Shakespeare.
Thanks to all the new players joining us at the live quizzes and to all the patrons who have been enjoying fresh Pub Quiz content. Thanks especially 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, such as Sophie. I also thank The Original Vincibles, Summer Brains, The Outside Agitators, John Poirier’s team Quizimodo, Gena Harper, the conversationally entertaining Mavens who keep attending, despite their ambitious travel schedules, and others who support the Pub Quiz on Patreon (where I am also sometimes sharing drafts of poems, including one this week about my move to California in 1989). I would love to add your name or that of your team to the list of supporters. I appreciate your backing this pub quiz project of mine!
Also, my friend Leslie is visiting from Oregon this week. I wonder which team will get to add her as a ringer!
Best,
Dr. Andy
P.S. Find here three questions from last week’s quiz:
- Youth Culture. Born in July of 2024, Moo Deng is a really cute example of what sort of animal?
- World Cities. What European city has the nicknames “The City of Counts,” “The Catalan Capital,” and BCN?
- Video Games. Which multiplayer online game exploded in popularity during the COVID-19 pandemic, one where colorful and armless players try to identify imposters?
P.P.S. And here is Kate’s update:
Six months ago, I walked into the hospital to get a bionic hip and left a few days later with a paralyzed foot. Of all of the possible outcomes of surgery, the surgeon accidentally crushing my sciatic nerve (which controls movement of the foot) was not on my list of concerns. Welcome to the story of my recovery.
If you know me well, you know that I like to walk. Because walking is integral to my sense of wellbeing, I had built walking into my daily life: walking and processing life with friends, walking my dog while listening to music and podcasts, and hiking with my husband and kids to sustain and center me. I loved running into people all over town on my walks. On most days I would end up walking many miles, rarely sitting down until the end of the day.
Waking up from surgery unable to feel or move my foot made me feel as if I had been suddenly thrust into my own terrifying disaster film. I had entered the land of disability, and as the months passed, I came to learn how much I had taken my able-bodied status for granted. None of us is promised health and strength.
The doctors all said that the chance of recovery from my injured nerve was unknown and that I needed to practice patience because nerves heal slowly — my recovery might take one to two years, they told me. The sciatic nerve is the biggest nerve in our bodies, starting in our back and traveling all the way down our legs into our heels. That’s a long way for nerve impulses to travel when the nerve itself heals so slowly. Not only did the injury prevent me from lifting or feeling any sensation in my foot, but it also caused numbness from my thigh down to my toes. With a numb leg and foot and my new hip, I felt as though I were learning to walk on a prosthetic leg.
Facing many medical challenges at once, I found that even getting in and out of bed required practice and help. I also had to sleep with my newly-dropped foot in a boot to protect it and to keep it in a 90° position. Manually turning my immobile foot in its big and heavy boot while I tried to sleep at night made me feel as if I were disconnected from my own body.
A few nights after I returned home, a new burning pain in my foot and ankle woke me. It turns out that this sciatic injury causes intense nerve pain, pain that had just begun. Take it as a good sign, my medical team said, for the pain was evidence that my nerve was trying to heal. Over the months, I tried to make peace with the pain as part of my healing process, so when a sudden stabbing pain would grip my ankle, I thought: heal me. When burning enveloped my foot, I thought: heal me.
Convalescing slowly at home, I found it disorienting not to trust what I was feeling. Was my foot burning up, or cold to the touch? Would a light massage comfort me, or trigger gasps of discomfort? Sometimes the leg sensations felt less like pain, and more like water was being slowly poured on my foot, a sensation that seemed so real that I needed to check that my foot was actually dry.
I knew that attitude would be important in my recovery and for my mental health, so I adjusted my mindset to “positive.” I needed to believe that my foot could and would recover. However, maintaining that positive mindset proved difficult as I started feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of the challenges. The pain, my paralyzed foot, my inadequate sleep, and the glacial pace of surgery recovery together led to my first ever panic attacks. I am so grateful to friends who came over and sat with me, took me to doctor appointments, and coaxed me to go out to lunch. I cried throughout more than one Crepeville lunch with friends. I have no sisters, but my friends are all sisters to me. I couldn’t have gotten through any of it without them.
In physical therapy (with a wonderful neuro PT named Laura), I found hope and encouragement. Determined to regain use of my foot, I sought to become an overachiever with my assigned exercises. In the early weeks when I couldn’t move my foot at all, Andy lifted it for me as I focused on sending the correct “MOVE” signal from my brain to my foot. I looked forward to those times with Andy, as he so tenderly held and moved my foot for me. After a few weeks of these exercises, I began to feel sensation on my sole, and his healing touch gave me comfort.
And then, after a couple months of this, I could lift my foot enough to do my own exercises without direct enabling assistance. But trying repeatedly to move your foot when it barely responds still felt demoralizing and depressing. Needing inspiration, I turned to music, to my old friends like The Boss, The Chicks, and sometimes, solely for comfort, to Joni. I spent hours every night listening to music and lifting my foot to the beat of whatever tempo I could manage. I saw this discovery of music to accompany and facilitate my exercises as a turning point. With this musical support, I began to feel joyful, thinking less about the strain of my PT exercises, and instead tapping (and laboriously raising) my foot to the beat.
Over the summer, I resumed long walks, now with an AFO (ankle-foot orthosis) brace in my shoe. How great it felt to encounter friends on the greenbelt again! I said to myself that if I had to, I could live the rest of my life with this level of functioning. But AFOs kind of suck. They feel uncomfortable and awkward and can even cause pain, as all four of mine did. My ultimate dream was to shed the carbon fiber and Velcro straps of such devices and walk barefoot on the beach with my husband.
Although my foot and ankle still have more strength to recover, and although I still have nerve pain and a numb leg and foot, I am pleased to report that six months after my injury, I have ditched my AFO brace and have walked barefoot on the beach with Andy. I no longer have drop foot! I can even wear my Birkenstocks, which had been another goal. After so many tears, so much work and therapy, and so many attempted and then successful walks, I feel like me again.
I am so grateful for everyone’s love and support. I didn’t need to live through the last six months to learn what a lovely community of friends I have, but I’m thankful for the reminder: I love you guys.