Dear Friends of the Pub Quiz,
We all recharge in different ways, if at all, and sometimes we recharge best when the summertime provides us a needed respite from our busy schedules. Although most of us are neither farmers nor schoolchildren, we still vacation as if we were members of one of these two groups, hopefully setting aside part of the summer for our play.
The choice to take a break in mid-July might make sense for those of us who live in Davis or Washington DC, two cities known for their oppressive summer heat, for before air conditioning, people in these cities found that the air did not circulate quickly enough. I assumed that the barriers provided by the heat were on the mind of the wistful checker at Trader Joe’s when she told me yesterday that the evening temperatures dropped quickly during her recent week at Lake Tahoe: “At nighttime, we had to dig out our SWEATERS,” she said. She wished she were back there, and at that moment I felt like checking Airbnb for the availability of an alpine cabin to which my family and I could escape.
Of course, we’d have to find a vacation spot that accepts dogs. I’ve been staying up late at night with our puppy Margot (I wonder at what age I will stop calling our diminutive French bulldog a “puppy”), both to catch up on my writing when everyone else in the family is asleep, and to let the house cool down, the whole house fan circulating the cool night air with a determined velocity that John Adams or the Colonel Joseph Ballinger Chiles could only have dreamed of. The whole house fan also muffles the sounds of I-80, almost convincing my sleep-deprived and hopeful self that the recurrent susurrus of speeding cars, trucks, and motorcycles are in fact the sounds of surf. We will be so close to the geothermic attractions of the mountains and the ocean, we said to ourselves while signing the mortgage on our Davis home.
Sacramento is also close by. Today my 13-year-old son Truman heads off to acting camp at the B Street Theatre in Sacramento. This has become a summer tradition for our little thespian; for five years in a row he has appeared in one-act plays that he has taken part of his summer to help craft and shape, following the lead of the veteran local actors and educators Kurt Johnson (now a UC Davis employee) and Greg Alexander. Thoughtful and considerate, Truman leaves a lasting impression on his teachers at acting camp, even if he is not initially as loud and attention-gathering as some of his more boisterous classmates. I enjoy watching him grow and continue to blossom (do boys blossom?) every summer.
It could be argued that “acting camp” is a metaphor for our ongoing forays into adulthood, where first we try to convince others, and then eventually ourselves, that we can pull off the roles that we have been assigned. Some people continue this sort of thespian experimentation for decades before they are found out to be imposters. But then, because of earned seniority and the incipient retirement opportunities, it’s too late: we just own the role, and look forward to counting down our final years with the help of a gold watch.
We hope to reach our retirement years without what tennis players call “solo mishaps.” Sometimes trauma taxes our ability to maintain our lives’ roles convincingly. I am closest to someone who is recovering from recent (Friday) surgery, and she continues to work remotely on important projects, smile for the kids, and maintain a busy home, when, because of the swelling and the discomfort, she’d rather just curl up with an ice pack and MSNBC for the next several weeks, or months. She is mighty mighty, as Lionel Richie would say, and knows that her family depends upon her strength during this difficult time.
I have another friend who was in a horrific bike accident last week, having been struck and run over by semi-trailer truck on the streets of Davis. Despite multiple bone fractures to both his legs, he sent his other friends and me texts whose tone reflected his typical irreverent alacrity, all while being ambulanced to the UC Davis Medical Center for significant surgery and a week or more of hospitalization thereafter.
Whether formal or informal, our acting classes come in handy during such times, for they provide the training we need to persevere, to step into the spotlight, even when we feel that we are not ready. Substituting habit for heartbreak, or perseverance for panic, we continue the work that needs to be done.
So many people depend upon us to maintain character, whether in the tradition of character that David Brooks explores in his 2015 book The Road to Character, or the ringleader sense of the word that PT Barnum has recently been re-enacted cinematically; we remind ourselves, as my actor and theatre director father used to say, that “The show must go on.” Unaware of our difficulties, somewhere, an audience demands it. As actors, as performers of the selves we wish to project to the world, we pause, reflect for a moment, tap that well of inner strength, and then push on.
Even though we find ourselves in the depths of summer, in need of relief from our jobs and the weather, we might find ourselves repeating the line that we’ve heard in too many movies, from All That Jazz to The Incredibles: “It’s showtime!”
Tonight’s Pub Quiz will feature questions on topics raised above, as well as the following: balms for sore hearts, evening scents, the last remaining payphones, conservative heroes, tightropes, monosyllabic cities, stumbling consumerism, retired Olympians, responses to mistreatment, famous clubs, sustaining barracudas, cashing in on anthropomorphizing, Bible study, capital banks, notable high school runs, unusual mammals, comedic poles, the elephant not in the room, odd holidays, grey stone categories, expensive pines, bright surfaces, overcoming resistance, lies told to saltcellars, adapted country songs, quick maths, the decade of an earned nickname, shushing one’s critics, little packages, top rankings, missed opportunities, admirable people with their many prizes, apparel, and Shakespeare.
If you enjoy these newsletters, and you think others would, as well, invite them to subscribe, even if they never attend our quizzes. Perhaps the fear of missing out will eventually convince them to join us, as I hope you will do this evening. By the end of the quiz, everyone will wish they were sitting outside.
Dr. Andy
Your Quizmaster
https://www.yourquizmaster.com
Here are three questions from last week’s quiz, and different questions than those you might see in the Davis Enterprise every Sunday:
- Science. In the world of physics, what A word do we use for the maximum extent of a vibration or oscillation, measured from the position of equilibrium?
- Books and Authors. The books Goals! and Eat That Frog! were written by a man whose first name is Brian. His last name could be the first name of a woman or a man or a police detective created by Chester Gould. What is that last name?
- Shakespeare. Speaking of soccer, the only Shakespeare play title that ends with a G sports this quotation: “A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers.” Name the play.
P.S. Let’s close with some words from one of my favorite bons vivants: “Good evening, ladies and gentleman. My name is Orson Welles. I am an actor. I am a writer. I am a producer. I am a director. I am a magician. I appear onstage and on the radio. Why are there so many of me and so few of you?” Orson Welles
P.P.S. Speaking of shows, I loved seeing the new Davis Shakespeare Ensemble production of The Tenth Muse last week. And yesterday my daughter, who is not in the habit of seeing historical dramas about Mexican national heroes and poets, saw the play, and she also loved it for its humor and wit. Highly recommended!