Books Don't Help

I got out my TRAVELS OF WILLIAM BARTRAM, which maybe I’ve never opened before, to do some research on swamps for an unpublished novel, which will remain unpublished if I know my unpublished novels, and if I don’t, nobody does. I was reminded by a sticker on the back that I bought TRAVELS OF WILLIAM BARTRAM at A Cappella Books in Atlanta during the time I was working on my second book, which, in its initial stages, was supposed to be a novel called THE ALABAMIAD. See, old William Bartram had tromped around Mobile in the 18th century, so I thought it might be helpful, but it wasn’t. Anyway, I opened it up yesterday and I was thumbing through it and I thought, boy, old William Bartram surely knows about every kind of squirrel and every kind of frog. I wonder if he knows about owls! The answer turned out to be yes. He knows about the great white owl, and the great horned owl, and the great horned white owl, which was the order in which he mentioned them, and I could imagine Cliff Clavin saying it on CHEERS: “You see, Sammy, you’ve got your great white owl, and your great horned owl, and then you’ve got your great horned white owl.” And then Carla would push him off his stool. Best of all, Bartram mentions “the whooting owl,” which is, I believe, our first sighting of that variation upon the hoot-owl. Whooting! The whooting owl! I love you, whooting owl! Hey! Do you know what happened after I had written all of the above? I picked up an Elmore Leonard novel I’ve been reading and one character immediately asked a cowboy, "What do you call it when you're on the dodge? Riding the owl hoot trail?" Now, you’ll certainly recall my puzzlement over the owl-hoot versus the hoot-owl, and, of course, “the hoot-owl trail,” which I seem to have first encountered in TRUE GRIT. By the way, the cowboy in question is impressed by his friend's knowledge of the term "owl hoot trail," which he apparently considers the correct rendering. I close fondly as always by saying go to hell.