Category Archives: “Dog Days” Diversions

Dog Days Meditations: William Bartram on Human & Animal Hunting

WHEN travelling on the East coast of the isthmus of Florida, ascending the South Musquitoe river, in a canoe, we observed numbers of deer and bears, near the banks, and on the islands of the river, the bear were feeding on the fruit of the dwarf creeping Chamerops, (this fruit is of the form and size of dates, and are delicious and nourishing food:) we saw eleven bears in the course of the day, they seemed no way surprized or affrighted at the sight of us; in the evening my hunter, who was an excellent marksman, said that he would shoot one of them, for the sake of the skin and oil, for we had plenty and variety of provisions in our bark.

We accordingly, on sight of two of them, planned our approaches, as artfully as possible, by crossing over to the opposite shore, in order to get under cover of a small island, this we cautiously coasted round, to a point, which we apprehended would take us within shot of the bear, but here finding ourselves at too great a distance from them, and discovering that we must openly show ourselves, we had no other alternative to effect our purpose, but making oblique approaches; we gained gradually on our prey by this artifice, without their noticing us, finding ourselves near enough, the hunter fired, and laid the largest dead on the spot, where she stood, when presently the other, not seeming the least moved, at the report of our piece, approached the dead body, smelled, and pawed it, and appearing in agony, fell to weeping and looking upwards, then towards us, and cried out like a child.

Dog Days True Tales: Vietnam & the Secret Life of Pizza

Still Boston-based, she was coming to Washington to work on a book. It was to be about abortion, now legal everywhere — or rather, the book was about the right-to-life movement, which was determined to make abortion illegal again.

She’d be there in a few days, and wanted to catch up. Which was great, but left me wondering. I was the Washington reporter of the two of us: Washington, the nation’s premier center of media, power and glamour. I wanted to show her something of that, but the truth was I was still a rookie there: I didn’t know any powerful people. I wasn’t invited to the parties the local glitterati kept throwing for the powerful and glamorous, plus some media hangers-on. So I’d have to find something else to show her, something offbeat. What could it be?

The Star, which was on its last legs when I saw the story about General Loan.
The Washington Star came to my rescue. It had recently run a story about area Vietnamese refugees, one of whom was a former general, who had come to America after his army (and ours) lost the war to their Communist enemies. He was, it said, now running a restaurant in northern Virginia called the Three Continents.

The man’s name seemed familiar. So I did some checking– and yes, it was General Ngoc Loan, the one from the world-famous front page execution photo. I got the exact address in the phone book, and drove past it to be sure I knew the way.

Dog Days Tale: Honesty Is the Best Policy – Mostly: A Memorial to Sly Stone

Mike snapped me out of one of my dreams. ”Hey,” he said. “Phone’s for you.” To my inquiring stare he whispered, “Judy Drake. The Phoenix.”

My stomach went cold. “Err, hi Judy,” I croaked.

“Chuck,” she said. “Interesting review. But I’ve got a few questions.”

“Interesting”? I knew that “interesting” was Judy’s word for copy that didn’t qualify for her usual adjective of “great.”

A few questions? My throat went dry. “Okay,” I croaked again. “I mean, Fine! Shoot.”

“Well,” she said, “here’s three: First, what is it you didn’t like about the bass player?”

“Ummm, sure,” I said. “And, uh, the second one?”

“What was it,” she asked, “about Sly’s singing that you said was ‘off-center’?”

“Right. Uh, yeah. Got it. And third?”

“The new song,” she said, “the one they did in the encore. What was the name of it?”

New song? What new song??
“Okay,” I said again. Then cleared my throat. And coughed. I thought maybe I had forgotten how to breathe.

“Chuck? You still there?”

Oh, I was there. And I was so, so busted. ”Um, Judy,” I said slowly, “there’s something I need to explain.”

Dog Days Meditation: Bartram Faces a Murderer

On perceiving that he was armed with a rifle, the first sight of him startled me, and I endeavoured to elude his sight, by stopping my pace, and keeping large trees between us; but he espied me, and turning short about, sat spurs to his horse, and came up on full gallop.

I never before this was afraid at the sight of an Indian, but at this time, I must own that my spirits were very much agitated: I saw at once, that being unarmed, I was in his power, and having now but a few moments to prepare, I resigned myself entirely to the will of the Almighty, trusting to his mercies for my preservation; my mind then became tranquil, and I resolved to meet the dreaded foe with resolution and chearful confidence.

1791: When America Had a Real King – William Bartram Met Him

The manners and customs of the Alachuas, and most of the lower Creeks or Siminoles, appear evidently tinctured with Spanish civilization. Their religious and civil usages manifest a predilection for the Spanish customs. There are several Christians among them, many of whom wear little silver crucifixes, affixed to a wampum collar round their necks, or suspended by a small chain upon their breast. These are said to be baptized, and notwithstanding most of them speak and understand Spanish, yet they have been the most bitter and formidable Indian enemies the Spaniards ever had.

The slaves, both male and female, are permitted to marry amongst them: their children are free, and considered in every respect equal to themselves, but the parents continue in a state of slavery as long as they live.