Patchwork Quilt 2 Trivia Quiz

Answer: The angels' share

Wine matures in barrels sometimes for years before it is released to the public for consumption. These barrels were once traditionally all made from oak, but today other materials such as aluminium, stainless steel and plastic are sometimes used as well.

These are called aging barrels. During the maturation and aging process, however, a certain amount of wine is lost because of the natural process of evaporation. When that takes place, small amounts of air enter the barrels to take its place. Amusingly so, this small amount of lost content is known as the "angels' share" of the wine.

It's quite reassuring to learn that those heavenly creatures who watch over us on a daily basis are quite temperate in their consumption of alcohol, don't you think?

Answer: Samuel Goldfish

Famous movie producer, Samuel Goldwyn, lived from 1879 until 1974. Born into a poor Jewish family in Poland (his father was a peddler) as Szmuel Gelbfisz, Goldwyn was penniless and on foot when he left Warsaw at a young age to move to England. There, living with relatives, he was known by the English translation of his name as Samuel Goldfish. At the age of 19, he left to find work in the United States, but, fearing refusal into that country, got off the boat in Canada, before making his way across the border. He found work in the States in the glove making business, and within four years, his acute business acumen and skills saw him rise to the position of vice-president of that business.

In the first few years of the following century, he, a friend, his brother-in-law, and Cecil B. DeMille combined forces to produce and distribute motion pictures. The first feature film made in Hollywood "The Squaw Man" (1914) comes from that far-sighted four. The rest, as we know, is movie history with some of the top ranking films ever made going to Goldwyn's credit over the next forty years from the various partnerships and companies he would go on to form. But how did Samuel Goldfish become Samuel Goldwyn? That took place in 1916 during a partnership with Edgar and Archibald Selwyn. Combining his and their surnames into one, they called their undertaking "Goldwyn Pictures", and the ambitious Goldfish liked the name and its business connections so much, that he had his name legally changed to Samuel Goldwyn as a result. All things considered, it was probably a very wise move.

Answer: The bridge opened up under it

London's beautiful Tower Bridge which looks so historic, was in fact only constructed between 1886 and 1894, and was opened in that latter year by the then Prince of Wales, the later King Edward VII. Its design is meant to mirror that of the nearby famous Tower of London which was founded in 1066 during the Norman Conquest, then built upon by William the Conqueror, and added to over the following centuries. The combined bascule (opening) and suspension Tower Bridge has seen a lot of history in its time as well, for all its youth. One of these events would have fitted perfectly into an old American chase movie, and it took place in December, 1952.

As a number 78 double-decker bus was crossing over the bridge from the south side, the relief watchman on duty failed to wait for the gateman on the bridge to close the gates, then to wait for the bridge to clear before ringing the warning bell to allow the bridge to be raised. Horrifyingly the bus was still half way across when the bridge began to rise before the bus driver's shocked eyes. His name was Albert Gunter and he made an instant decision to accelerate to try to clear the gap opening in front of him and his terrified passengers, before it widened any further. He slammed his foot to the floor, and the gallant old bus picked up enough speed to clear a three foot gap, and then dropped down another six feet onto the other side of the opening. There were no serious injuries, thank goodness, but a pretty intense investigation followed one imagines. For his nerves of steel and brilliant reaction time, Gunter was given an award of ten pounds. I think I may have also requested a new pair of trousers myself.

Answer: Saint Patrick

Saint Patrick's Cathedral was founded in 1191 in Dublin, Ireland. The largest church in Ireland, it is also known as the Irish National Cathedral. In Gaelic, its name is Ard-Eaglais Naomh Padraig. The tale behind the origins of the word "chancer" in Ireland rests in fierce battles and rivalries behind the Butlers and the Fitzgerald clans there in the middle ages. One such clash took place in 1492, when Black James Butler, the Earl of Ormond, found himself and a small group of his men cut off and forced to take refuge in Saint Patrick's Cathedral. They barricaded themselves behind a thick wooden door there, refusing to leave until their safety was assured.

Finally, the two sides agreed on a deal, and in order to make it stick, a hole was cut in the wooden door by Earl Fitzgerald and he stuck his hand through to shake on it. That meant something back then. He could of course have had his hand lopped off by a Butler's axe, but the deal held fast instead. From that day on, a "chancer" was a word applied to anyone who took a risk, and the saying "chance your arm" is thought to have come from that incident as well. There are other claimants to the origin of that expression as well though, such as having to stick your arm in a loaded cannon to dislodge a ball that had become stuck there. Still the case in 2017 in Ireland, however, the hole in that door of Saint Paddy's Cathedral can be seen - and the door itself is known as the Door of Reconciliation - so I'll chance my arm on the origins of the word resting there.

Answer: Food

The Coolgardie Safe was a non-electrical food preservation device that was invented in the small gold-mining outback town of Calgoolie in Western Australia, during the last couple of years of the 19th century. It also had the dual purpose of keeping food as cool as possible in the semi-desert and horrible summer climate in that part of the world. Coolgardie itself was the site of a gold rush in the late 1890s and it was realised as soon as the miners arrived that they needed some kind of device that could somehow prolong the life of their food and keep it cool. This came from the brilliant mind of one Arthur Patrick McCormick. He based his idea on the way explorers and travellers of the outback kept water cool in their canvas water bags on their journeys - as water evaporated from the bags during travelling, it kept the exterior of the bags wet, and the breeze that was a natural part of travelling helped cool down the water remaining inside. In turn, those early explorers and travellers are believed to have based that idea on the way Australian aborigines kept water cool, in their water holding kangaroo-skin containers, as they moved about the land during hunting excursions and walkabouts.

The Coolgardie Safe itself was designed as a wooden frame covered in wire mesh, that was then covered again in hessian bag material. On the top of the completed box was a galvanised iron tray permanently filled with water, into which the ends of the bag were fixed at intervals. The box was then usually hung outside on an open verandah to catch a breeze. As the hessian gradually absorbed water down its fibres, the breeze blew through it, cooling down the contents of the food inside and keeping it fresh. These safes, which could easily be constructed at home, were a common sight right through Australia right up to the mid-twentieth century before electricity supplies gradually spread throughout the country. In some very distant areas of the nation, far from the supply of power, Coolgardie Safes are no doubt still found today. I remember seeing some old ones dangling out on the verandahs of farms of relatives who lived way out in the country when I was a child. They had sides of beef hanging inside, and frustrated flies buzzing around outside. Not a pretty sight at all, but certainly very practical.

Answer: Mark Twain

Samuel Langhorne Clemens, aka Mark Twain, lived from 1835 until 1910. He gave the world two very fine works with "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" (1876) and the classic "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" (I almost typed Hound there) in 1885. The latter in particular is a great work. Twain has managed to interweave a ripping good boy's yarn into a work portraying mankind's journey through life and all the different aspects of it that one may encounter along the way - and then placed it against a background of the mighty Mississippi's inexorable journey to its own conclusion. Twain mentioned in his autobiography that the first typewritten manuscript ever presented to a publisher came from him, and that that work was "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer". Apparently, though, the work was "Life on the Mississippi" (1883), but it was certainly the first typewritten manuscript to be handed to a publisher, and it did indeed come from him.

Other authors associated with the first steps into typing were:

Henry James - he dictated his works to a typist, the poor girl.
William S. Burroughs - he believed typewriters were dictating our lives - sound familiar?
Ernest Hemingway - he liked to type standing up, with his machine placed on a tall bookshelf.
J.R.R. Tolkien - he typed his own books because he couldn't afford a typist - and he typed them sitting up in bed because he had no room on his desk for the machine.
Jack Kerouac - he typed "on the Road" on a single roll of paper 120 feet long because he didn't want to be interrupted by inserting new sheets every few minutes.
Tom Robbins - he gave his typewriter away because he said it was too inhuman an instrument on which to create poetry, and
Leonard Cohen - after typing "Beautiful Losers", he hurled his poor inoffensive typewriter into the Aegean Sea.

Answer: It featured a slipped off the shoulder strap

Oh scandalous stuff indeed! The subject in this work, Madame Pierre Gautreau, had not requested Sargent do her portrait, as had the vast majority of his other portrait subjects, but he was so taken with her unique looks when first seeing her, that he pursued her with requests to do so until she agreed. It became his favourite work and he took over a year to complete it. Madame Gautreau was certainly a worthy subject with her fine features and exquisite alabaster skin, but Sargent had painted more beautiful women. It was, however, the manner in which he depicted her that provoked such a strong reaction from the public. Dressed in a simple, sleeveless, black gown adorned only by two thin golden shoulder straps, Madame X has her fine features turned somewhat haughtily away from the viewer. The bareness of that unadorned gown with its plunging neckline and thin straps almost suggests a state of undress. More than anything else, though, it was the right strap that Sargent painted slipping alluringly off the right shoulder - suggesting a contradictory effect of availability with a "I'm forever out of your reach" - that sparked such a morally outraged response in her viewers.

That uproar seems impossible to understand today - but wait. Look again at other portraits from that era. Note their decorum, their approved level of dress, the expected positioning of their bodies, their correct facial expressions, their subdued and socially approved backgrounds - and then look again at Madame X with all her denials of the expected - and you will understand. Sargent, astonished at the reaction she provoked, painted that shoulder strap back onto his muse, but it was too late. The damage was done. Even all these years later and now well into the 21st century, Madame X will always represent woman as she really is, deprived of all ornamentation, stripped of all socially approved codes of behaviour, true and natural to herself - and with a complete awareness of the power of her fully released sexuality.

Answer: Calling his name and tapping his head with a hammer

Prior to the 20th century when the tradition was partly scrapped, the life or death of an ill or dying Pope was determined by gently tapping his head with a small silver hammer, and calling his Christian name - not his papal one - three times. This was carried out by the Camerlengo of the Holy Roman Church. If used on Pope John Paul II, for example, the words would have been "Karol, dormisne?" ("Karol, are you sleeping?").

The Ring of the Fisherman, traditionally worn by the Pope, would also be removed and destroyed in the presence of the Cardinals. This was to prevent any forgeries carried out in the Pope's name immediately after his death. The tradition behind the use of the silver hammer is unknown, beyond the fact that it had to be used very gently. When the 20th century rolled over, however, its use was discontinued. Perhaps they decided it wasn't really appropriate to send a Pontiff to meet his Maker with a migraine.

Answer: Yes

Amazing but true. Art competitions were a part of the modern Olympics from 1912 until 1948. Categories covered were architecture, literature, painting, music and sculpture. This was the brainchild of the founder of the modern Olympics, Pierre de Coubertin. His vision of the Olympics was the fulfilment of the body AND the mind of man, competition in sport instead of war, and the combination of both art and sport. The artistic side of his dream was put to the International Olympic Committee in 1906 with a proposal to include those five areas of artistic endeavour in time for the 1908 Games, with the one stipulation being that the theme of each category should be centred around sports.

Financial difficulties ultimately delayed the appearance of those art categories and awards in time for the 1908 Olympics - as was the Committee's concern over the shortness of the time period left to allow entrants to prepare their submissions - but they were up and rolling by 1912 and continued until the 1948 Games, after which they were cancelled and replaced by the Olympic Cultural Programme. The reason for this decision came from the Olympic rules themselves. Olympians, at that time in history, were required to be amateurs. The arts competitors, by their very nature, gave their creators an income through the sale and proceeds of their works - thus putting them in the category of professionals. Hoist with their own petard in other words.

Answer: A twisted left index finger

That twisted finger certainly didn't impede his progress in life. Telly (Aristotelis) Savalas lived from 1922 until 1994. Born to Greek-American parents in New York, he only spoke Greek as a child, and didn't learn English until he went to school, but went on to become a famous American film and television actor and singer with a wide range of interests apart from the silver screen. These included a degree in psychology, his stint as a trained lifeguard (he was haunted for the rest of his life by his failure to once save a drowning man), top poker playing skills, racing motorbikes, golf, swimming, football, travelling, collecting luxury cars, horse racing, three official marriages, one common law wife, five children, and, of all things, reading romantic novels. Then of course, there was his three year stint in the army during World War II. One of his top rated film roles was playing the despicable Archer J. Maggott in "The Dirty Dozen" (1967) with a host of other top-rated actors, where, as some of the army's worst offenders, they are sent to attack a chateau in Brittany where dozens of top German officers were to meet.

Telly is probably best remembered though for his long running role as Kojak, in the television series of the same name (1973-1978), in which he plays a New York detective solving assorted grim crimes. The early episodes of this show portray Savalas smoking cigarettes, but desperately trying to break the habit - as he was in real life - so the lollipop (Tootsie Roll Pops) he was always later seen with in the series were more than just a prop for him. Sadly though, he never did break the smoking habit unfortunately, and remarked later in life that all he ever got from those lollipops were three cavities.