"...for some reason, from maybe the 1920s till the late 1960s, the city became remarkably safe."
Probably entirely coincidental, but that same period also encompasses what I call "The Great Pause."
In 1924, Congress passed the first-ever comprehensive immigration act. This turned off the spigot on mass immigration to the United States, and remained in effect until it was overturned by the 1965 immigration act.
As a result, a 40-year period of immigrant inculturation allowed things to settle down. This was of course very much aided and abetted by John Dewey and others in their work establishing the public school system in urban areas, with the explicit purpose of transforming immigrants into Americans.
As I say...this may just be coincidence. But honestly, it was the first thing that came to mind when I read your essay.
Interesting. I'll doubt it, because I think you'd see the same trends in those years in communities where immigrants were not a factor before or for decades afterward. My mother recalled in the 1920s and 1930s, they would occasionally find hobos sleeping their car. But she said no one was afraid of them. There can also be simultaneous factors that confound investigations.
Fair enough. But given that your original comment was in the specific context of New York City, where both the immigrant factor and the big push toward public education intended to turn immigrant children into "proper" Americans, you'll have to permit me that context as well! :-)
Fair enough, too. You may most certainly have that context. There was a similar phenomenon in my hometown, which did not have the immigrant influxes--at least not by the same dynamics. My grandfather was an immigrant who came to the town in 1914 (after having established himself as a merchant). The next town over had a moderate influx of Greek, Jewish, and Arab immigrants who came to work in the WWI wartime factories. But there was this safe/unsafe distinction between mid-century and late-century. Hence, Mom's hobo story, versus real fear that occurred late in the century.
Interesting. Did your hometown see much mixing of the "old Americans" and the new ones, i.e. the immigrants? Because at least in New York, there were very strong neighborhood boundaries and it was well understood that you shouldn't transgress them. A Jewish friend who grew up in Queens told me that there was an Italian neighborhood not far from her parents' home and she was constantly admonished never to go to the other side of whatever street marked the informal boundary between the Jewish and Italian neighborhoods. Even in my parents' very WASPy upper-East-side neighborhood you only had to go east a few blocks to find yourself in an old Czechoslovakian--as it then was--neighborhood, and just north of that was an old Hungarian neighborhood, and then you got to the well-known German neighborhood, Yorkville. Those areas were on the way out when I was a lad in the 1960s, but you could still see traces of them, and Yorkville survived as a boutique neighborhood of German restaurants and delis until nearly 2000. So I can't help but wonder if the self-segregation of the ethnic groups had anything to do with it, and whether our well-intentioned efforts to break down the racial barriers in the 1960s might not have to some degree short-circuited that process.
Immigrant families were few and far between in my hometown. Quite a few national minorities were represented in my high school of 1500 students--but usually 1 or 2 families of each. There were around 100 Jewish families. A moderate number of Italian and Greek families. There was something of a Bohemian community. A couple of Spanish and Portuguese family names. This was the era of Jim Crow, so there was a sharp distinction between black and white neighborhoods, but otherwise, there were no ethnic neighborhoods to speak of. I've written before about the fact that there was a sprinkling of Asians (Japanese, Chinese, Indian, Filipino) living in the white neighborhoods and even married to whites--the latter of which was certainly illegal under Jim Crow. But the numbers were small enough that no one much cared. My Dad grew up in Philadelphia, where the ethnic neighborhoods were very real, and he said he had to run across some of those neighborhoods and, at times, fight his way out. (My father was a very gentle man, but you wouldn't have wanted to confront his hands, which were like steel.)
Your experience seems to confirm that large cities had a more "tribal" immigrant experience while smaller jurisdictions may have had a greater degree of immigrant inculturation. Probably just a numbers thing, it's harder to have "ethnic neighborhoods" as we called them when I was growing up in NYC when there's not enough of you to make it work. Or it just might have been people who moved out of the big cities and left their tribalism behind.
A friend of mine moved from New York to Austin, Texas for work in the 1990s and when I visited him, he drove us down to San Antonio. On the way we stopped off in a small town that had been settled by German immigrants. They served Texas barbecue, but exclusively beef barbecue: I couldn't help but wonder if that was a holdover of kosher cuisine from their first arrival...
But apparently that part of Texas was pervaded with such towns. Who knew? :-)
My brother has ALWAYS had dogs. We all loved our dogs, but even as a child the family dogs were in essence his. In the past 3 years he has lost two border collies, unexpectedly, about a year apart in early February. He was 74 when the second one passed, and I was seriously afraid it was going to kill him. We live 5 hours apart, so I spent hours online and on the phone, just talking about nothing in particular. This year, a year later, he is a little better. But he has one remaining dog, a three-legged pound adoptee with a beautiful personality, and she's getting on 14-15 years old.
I honestly don't know if he will be able to take another dog dying. Over the years he has 'lost', of course, several dogs, but he's been divorced for a while and the dogs have been his household family. He has children and grandchildren he loves dearly, but they don't live with him.
I've tried to get him to adopt a 'new' dog, but he says he can't, any more. The bond is truly deep.
And I think dogs probably come to be like their master, since every one of his has been a very good boy or girl, indeed. Every single one.
As a breed, they are probably the smartest dogs. I trained one to herd my son, to keep him in the yard when he was a toddler. It was quite amusing to watch.
Another wonderful box of chocolates, Professor. I absolutely love these potpourri articles of yours.
As far as New York crime goes, I would note that the safe period in the 20's to 60's followed two very large wars, in which perhaps a large number of city boys suddenly became proficient in firearms and other martial arts. It makes me wonder if there might have been another relatively quiet period in the 1870's.
My family had dogs once my Dad got out of the Army and could keep one. He was a beagle man, and had several memorable ones. I never disliked dogs, but could take or leave them. One time a friend asked my wife and I why we didn't have a dog, and my wife said, "I have two sons who dig holes and pee in the yard. Why do I need a dog?" I do like cilantro, though.
I, too, broke apart reading Vest's "Eulogy of the Dog." I've yet to find the words to fully convey the pain of losing the best friends I will ever have, but it's comforting to know that I'm not alone. Thank you, Bob.
Great essay! I will but point out in re: Crime in NYC from1920 -around 1960sih. It seems to me that this period marked the high point of the influence and control of the mob families that ruled NYC with an iron hand inside a velvet glove.
Thanks for the "dog" part of the essay. Being a somewhat loquacious fellow I decided to read the eulogy aloud to my somewhat frigid, but definitely dog loving wife. I read with verve and fervor as if a young man in my prime.
At the end, my wife led me to our bedroom and we made the most passionate love we have had in many years. Thank you. I had her barking like a dog.
I expect at least one essay a week like this. K? But she hates cats.
This scene from “Futurama” seems apt, with respect to the discussion about dogs. I could only watch it once (fast forwarded through it just now to be sure it’s the right one). Needless to say, I’m a dog (and cilantro) person.
Nice clip--and the "Umbrellas of Cherbourg" background works nicely. If you haven't heard about Hachiko, read about him: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hachik%C5%8D. Famously loyal Japanese dog who became a national icon. Richard Gere starred in a film take on the story, reset in America.
Yes, I remember reading that the episode was based on the Hachiko story. I never saw the Gere film, having given up on sad dog movies after “Turner and Hooch.”(My niece named her family’s dog “Hachi” after the Gere movie.)
Good catch on the “Umbrellas of Cherbourg” background. I missed that.
I have had a dog since my parents brought home a lovely boxer when I was just a year old. Each and every dog has been a blessing, and I couldn't imagine a life without one. That eulogy was perfect, but I think I have something in my eye...
Your analysis is spot on, only the untimely death of a beloved relative is worse than the death of ones dog. Every time it happens I'm completely shattered emotionally; I usually say "Can't get another dog, can't go through this ever again!" Always end up with another one though. All this despite the fact that I really am a cat person.
I loved my parents dearly, but did not cry upon either of their deaths. Dad was almost 84, and Mom was 93. When they died, I felt a strange serenity--that they had lived long, happy lives, made it through the Depression and WWII, climbed out of bad childhood financial straits and prospered, and died quietly, relatively painlessly, with their minds intact and family around them. When my dogs died, I wept uncontrollably. This did not mean that I loved my dogs more than my parents. It's when I came to the conclusion that something is genetically hard-wired into us to view a dog not as we do a parent or friend, but rather as we view a child--a helpless thing, dependent upon us for its whole life. That we feel compelled to protect it as a bird feels compelled to protect the hatchling of an egg that some cuckoo laid in its nest. Genetic tricks--but lovely ones.
Lovely tribute to dogs. A dog will give you years of trust, unquestioning loyalty, companionship - and one of the single worst days of your life. I have personally endured several off those final days - it never gets easier. But then, each one is unique, and even within the same breed, different - we never forget the ones we had, but that doesn't diminish the ones we will have. Each one adds to our life experience in its own individual way. Thus I am never without the company of a dog, despite the inevitable heart-breaking ordeal of all those last days that have come before. I know it's coming - but the rewards are commensurate with the grief, and the memories are permanent.
By the way, if you want to experience true love - lock your wife and your dog in the trunk of your car for a day. See who's happy to see you when you let them out.
One of the most touching scenes I recount of the past several years was George Bush’s service dog lying beneath his casket as Bush-‘ body lie in state.
I,too, hate cilantro.
But the love people have for dogs is often duplicated by those of us who love and cherish our cats.
I remember that scene. I wonder if there's a correlation between hating cilantro and being a cat person. :) No doubt, there's an evolutionary component to cat-love. If you kept cats a few thousand years ago, you probably had fewer rats and, hence, less susceptibility to rat-borne plagues. So, you lived longer, had more children, they loved cats, they had fewer rats, etc. etc .etc.
Actually, my friend Ivan Eland, in his book Recarving Rushmore, argues that Tyler was the best president we ever had. Ivan has met his grandson, by the way.
Interesting! And, as you probably know, there were still two grandsons until recently. Tyler presided over the Texas Annexation. What else does your friend see in him?
I read that dog piece something like 60 years ago! So that's who did it. Gotta look Vest up and test myself for cilantro. Oh, I am part of the 29% who find saccharin is not very sweet--why I avoid "diet" foods! So Holmes Jr. was born under W H Harrison! Do research to see who was born under President David Rice Atchison during his one-day Presidency on Sunday, March 4, 1849 except he was never sworn in and spent his term in hiding! FDR to Truman WAS a big change--FDR was a sucker for Stalin and Truman killed the New Deal Foreign Policy quick. Thanks for not liking Wilson!
Regarding Holmes, Jr., on May 6, 1853 his father who was in New York City for a medical convention started back to Boston as expected. But he missed his train! Just over two hours later than train ran through an open drawbridge at South Norwalk CT killing 46 people including several doctors from Boston. (That is still the highest death toll from a RR accident in all New England!). Several Boston newspapers printed flattering obituaries until word got through that Holmes St. had missed the train. Holmes Jr.'s life would have been a lot different if his father had caught that train---and his father is one of those few people who just missed the train that just went through that drawbridge!
Glad you enjoyed the piece! I’ll have to burst your balloon. The Atchison story is fun—I told it for years—but, alas, it’s not true. For Atchison, it was a joke told by his friends, but he never claimed it was true. Legal scholars are near-unanimous is saying it’s not. Taylor became president at noon on Sunday. He needed to take the oath to take presidential actions, but not to BE president. Atchison never took the oath, so he had no more claim than Taylor that day. It’s generally viewed that Atchison’s term as President Pro Tem also ended on Sunday at noon, so once Pol’s term ended, Atchison was in no longer in the line of succession. He spoke with bemusement about this claim decades later, but only in the manner of storytelling. However, whoever designed his grave marker did have it inscribed with something like “President of the United States for One Day.” … Never heard the Holmes, Sr. Story. He’s an interesting fellow in his own right. i kind of like him better than I liked his son, who was instrumental in a couple of awful Supreme Court rulings (okaying state-mandated sterilization and the infamous “shouting fire in a crowded theater” ruling, which Holmes himself regretted. Agree that policy turned better from FDR to Truman. Just not the DRASTIC change that came with the deaths of the four assassinated presidents.
Beautifully stated about dogs. And I love cilantro too!
An excellent combination, I'd say. :)
I have to make some salsa without cilantro because my wife hates it.
Genes, genes, genes.
"...for some reason, from maybe the 1920s till the late 1960s, the city became remarkably safe."
Probably entirely coincidental, but that same period also encompasses what I call "The Great Pause."
In 1924, Congress passed the first-ever comprehensive immigration act. This turned off the spigot on mass immigration to the United States, and remained in effect until it was overturned by the 1965 immigration act.
As a result, a 40-year period of immigrant inculturation allowed things to settle down. This was of course very much aided and abetted by John Dewey and others in their work establishing the public school system in urban areas, with the explicit purpose of transforming immigrants into Americans.
As I say...this may just be coincidence. But honestly, it was the first thing that came to mind when I read your essay.
An interesting idea, anyway. Don't know how I'd test it.
Interesting. I'll doubt it, because I think you'd see the same trends in those years in communities where immigrants were not a factor before or for decades afterward. My mother recalled in the 1920s and 1930s, they would occasionally find hobos sleeping their car. But she said no one was afraid of them. There can also be simultaneous factors that confound investigations.
Fair enough. But given that your original comment was in the specific context of New York City, where both the immigrant factor and the big push toward public education intended to turn immigrant children into "proper" Americans, you'll have to permit me that context as well! :-)
Fair enough, too. You may most certainly have that context. There was a similar phenomenon in my hometown, which did not have the immigrant influxes--at least not by the same dynamics. My grandfather was an immigrant who came to the town in 1914 (after having established himself as a merchant). The next town over had a moderate influx of Greek, Jewish, and Arab immigrants who came to work in the WWI wartime factories. But there was this safe/unsafe distinction between mid-century and late-century. Hence, Mom's hobo story, versus real fear that occurred late in the century.
Interesting. Did your hometown see much mixing of the "old Americans" and the new ones, i.e. the immigrants? Because at least in New York, there were very strong neighborhood boundaries and it was well understood that you shouldn't transgress them. A Jewish friend who grew up in Queens told me that there was an Italian neighborhood not far from her parents' home and she was constantly admonished never to go to the other side of whatever street marked the informal boundary between the Jewish and Italian neighborhoods. Even in my parents' very WASPy upper-East-side neighborhood you only had to go east a few blocks to find yourself in an old Czechoslovakian--as it then was--neighborhood, and just north of that was an old Hungarian neighborhood, and then you got to the well-known German neighborhood, Yorkville. Those areas were on the way out when I was a lad in the 1960s, but you could still see traces of them, and Yorkville survived as a boutique neighborhood of German restaurants and delis until nearly 2000. So I can't help but wonder if the self-segregation of the ethnic groups had anything to do with it, and whether our well-intentioned efforts to break down the racial barriers in the 1960s might not have to some degree short-circuited that process.
Immigrant families were few and far between in my hometown. Quite a few national minorities were represented in my high school of 1500 students--but usually 1 or 2 families of each. There were around 100 Jewish families. A moderate number of Italian and Greek families. There was something of a Bohemian community. A couple of Spanish and Portuguese family names. This was the era of Jim Crow, so there was a sharp distinction between black and white neighborhoods, but otherwise, there were no ethnic neighborhoods to speak of. I've written before about the fact that there was a sprinkling of Asians (Japanese, Chinese, Indian, Filipino) living in the white neighborhoods and even married to whites--the latter of which was certainly illegal under Jim Crow. But the numbers were small enough that no one much cared. My Dad grew up in Philadelphia, where the ethnic neighborhoods were very real, and he said he had to run across some of those neighborhoods and, at times, fight his way out. (My father was a very gentle man, but you wouldn't have wanted to confront his hands, which were like steel.)
Your experience seems to confirm that large cities had a more "tribal" immigrant experience while smaller jurisdictions may have had a greater degree of immigrant inculturation. Probably just a numbers thing, it's harder to have "ethnic neighborhoods" as we called them when I was growing up in NYC when there's not enough of you to make it work. Or it just might have been people who moved out of the big cities and left their tribalism behind.
A friend of mine moved from New York to Austin, Texas for work in the 1990s and when I visited him, he drove us down to San Antonio. On the way we stopped off in a small town that had been settled by German immigrants. They served Texas barbecue, but exclusively beef barbecue: I couldn't help but wonder if that was a holdover of kosher cuisine from their first arrival...
But apparently that part of Texas was pervaded with such towns. Who knew? :-)
My brother has ALWAYS had dogs. We all loved our dogs, but even as a child the family dogs were in essence his. In the past 3 years he has lost two border collies, unexpectedly, about a year apart in early February. He was 74 when the second one passed, and I was seriously afraid it was going to kill him. We live 5 hours apart, so I spent hours online and on the phone, just talking about nothing in particular. This year, a year later, he is a little better. But he has one remaining dog, a three-legged pound adoptee with a beautiful personality, and she's getting on 14-15 years old.
I honestly don't know if he will be able to take another dog dying. Over the years he has 'lost', of course, several dogs, but he's been divorced for a while and the dogs have been his household family. He has children and grandchildren he loves dearly, but they don't live with him.
I've tried to get him to adopt a 'new' dog, but he says he can't, any more. The bond is truly deep.
And I think dogs probably come to be like their master, since every one of his has been a very good boy or girl, indeed. Every single one.
I also had a border collie, beginning at age 13 in 1967. Lived to 16. Man those are memorable animals.
As a breed, they are probably the smartest dogs. I trained one to herd my son, to keep him in the yard when he was a toddler. It was quite amusing to watch.
The things our border collie could do, and her perception of human patterns were astonishing.
Another wonderful box of chocolates, Professor. I absolutely love these potpourri articles of yours.
As far as New York crime goes, I would note that the safe period in the 20's to 60's followed two very large wars, in which perhaps a large number of city boys suddenly became proficient in firearms and other martial arts. It makes me wonder if there might have been another relatively quiet period in the 1870's.
My family had dogs once my Dad got out of the Army and could keep one. He was a beagle man, and had several memorable ones. I never disliked dogs, but could take or leave them. One time a friend asked my wife and I why we didn't have a dog, and my wife said, "I have two sons who dig holes and pee in the yard. Why do I need a dog?" I do like cilantro, though.
Interesting observation on NYC. Great comments from your wife. And glad you are one of the Cilantro Tribe.
Sir, Many thanks for a wonderful potpourri and wonderful afternoon reading.
Delighted!
I, too, broke apart reading Vest's "Eulogy of the Dog." I've yet to find the words to fully convey the pain of losing the best friends I will ever have, but it's comforting to know that I'm not alone. Thank you, Bob.
You bet. One either understands the bond or one doesn't.
Great essay! I will but point out in re: Crime in NYC from1920 -around 1960sih. It seems to me that this period marked the high point of the influence and control of the mob families that ruled NYC with an iron hand inside a velvet glove.
Thanks for the "dog" part of the essay. Being a somewhat loquacious fellow I decided to read the eulogy aloud to my somewhat frigid, but definitely dog loving wife. I read with verve and fervor as if a young man in my prime.
At the end, my wife led me to our bedroom and we made the most passionate love we have had in many years. Thank you. I had her barking like a dog.
I expect at least one essay a week like this. K? But she hates cats.
Yup. Mob as extra-legal institutions enforcing street safety. Not endorsing it, but I suspect it was quite real.
This scene from “Futurama” seems apt, with respect to the discussion about dogs. I could only watch it once (fast forwarded through it just now to be sure it’s the right one). Needless to say, I’m a dog (and cilantro) person.
https://youtu.be/0WBbKSFhw9A?si=NLLrvFwgPU3hRoP2
Nice clip--and the "Umbrellas of Cherbourg" background works nicely. If you haven't heard about Hachiko, read about him: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hachik%C5%8D. Famously loyal Japanese dog who became a national icon. Richard Gere starred in a film take on the story, reset in America.
Yes, I remember reading that the episode was based on the Hachiko story. I never saw the Gere film, having given up on sad dog movies after “Turner and Hooch.”(My niece named her family’s dog “Hachi” after the Gere movie.)
Good catch on the “Umbrellas of Cherbourg” background. I missed that.
I have had a dog since my parents brought home a lovely boxer when I was just a year old. Each and every dog has been a blessing, and I couldn't imagine a life without one. That eulogy was perfect, but I think I have something in my eye...
:)
Your analysis is spot on, only the untimely death of a beloved relative is worse than the death of ones dog. Every time it happens I'm completely shattered emotionally; I usually say "Can't get another dog, can't go through this ever again!" Always end up with another one though. All this despite the fact that I really am a cat person.
I loved my parents dearly, but did not cry upon either of their deaths. Dad was almost 84, and Mom was 93. When they died, I felt a strange serenity--that they had lived long, happy lives, made it through the Depression and WWII, climbed out of bad childhood financial straits and prospered, and died quietly, relatively painlessly, with their minds intact and family around them. When my dogs died, I wept uncontrollably. This did not mean that I loved my dogs more than my parents. It's when I came to the conclusion that something is genetically hard-wired into us to view a dog not as we do a parent or friend, but rather as we view a child--a helpless thing, dependent upon us for its whole life. That we feel compelled to protect it as a bird feels compelled to protect the hatchling of an egg that some cuckoo laid in its nest. Genetic tricks--but lovely ones.
Lovely tribute to dogs. A dog will give you years of trust, unquestioning loyalty, companionship - and one of the single worst days of your life. I have personally endured several off those final days - it never gets easier. But then, each one is unique, and even within the same breed, different - we never forget the ones we had, but that doesn't diminish the ones we will have. Each one adds to our life experience in its own individual way. Thus I am never without the company of a dog, despite the inevitable heart-breaking ordeal of all those last days that have come before. I know it's coming - but the rewards are commensurate with the grief, and the memories are permanent.
By the way, if you want to experience true love - lock your wife and your dog in the trunk of your car for a day. See who's happy to see you when you let them out.
Thanks! And my wife cracked up when I read your last sentence to her.
One of the most touching scenes I recount of the past several years was George Bush’s service dog lying beneath his casket as Bush-‘ body lie in state.
I,too, hate cilantro.
But the love people have for dogs is often duplicated by those of us who love and cherish our cats.
Lola Murray
I remember that scene. I wonder if there's a correlation between hating cilantro and being a cat person. :) No doubt, there's an evolutionary component to cat-love. If you kept cats a few thousand years ago, you probably had fewer rats and, hence, less susceptibility to rat-borne plagues. So, you lived longer, had more children, they loved cats, they had fewer rats, etc. etc .etc.
Actually, my friend Ivan Eland, in his book Recarving Rushmore, argues that Tyler was the best president we ever had. Ivan has met his grandson, by the way.
Interesting! And, as you probably know, there were still two grandsons until recently. Tyler presided over the Texas Annexation. What else does your friend see in him?
I read that dog piece something like 60 years ago! So that's who did it. Gotta look Vest up and test myself for cilantro. Oh, I am part of the 29% who find saccharin is not very sweet--why I avoid "diet" foods! So Holmes Jr. was born under W H Harrison! Do research to see who was born under President David Rice Atchison during his one-day Presidency on Sunday, March 4, 1849 except he was never sworn in and spent his term in hiding! FDR to Truman WAS a big change--FDR was a sucker for Stalin and Truman killed the New Deal Foreign Policy quick. Thanks for not liking Wilson!
Regarding Holmes, Jr., on May 6, 1853 his father who was in New York City for a medical convention started back to Boston as expected. But he missed his train! Just over two hours later than train ran through an open drawbridge at South Norwalk CT killing 46 people including several doctors from Boston. (That is still the highest death toll from a RR accident in all New England!). Several Boston newspapers printed flattering obituaries until word got through that Holmes St. had missed the train. Holmes Jr.'s life would have been a lot different if his father had caught that train---and his father is one of those few people who just missed the train that just went through that drawbridge!
Glad you enjoyed the piece! I’ll have to burst your balloon. The Atchison story is fun—I told it for years—but, alas, it’s not true. For Atchison, it was a joke told by his friends, but he never claimed it was true. Legal scholars are near-unanimous is saying it’s not. Taylor became president at noon on Sunday. He needed to take the oath to take presidential actions, but not to BE president. Atchison never took the oath, so he had no more claim than Taylor that day. It’s generally viewed that Atchison’s term as President Pro Tem also ended on Sunday at noon, so once Pol’s term ended, Atchison was in no longer in the line of succession. He spoke with bemusement about this claim decades later, but only in the manner of storytelling. However, whoever designed his grave marker did have it inscribed with something like “President of the United States for One Day.” … Never heard the Holmes, Sr. Story. He’s an interesting fellow in his own right. i kind of like him better than I liked his son, who was instrumental in a couple of awful Supreme Court rulings (okaying state-mandated sterilization and the infamous “shouting fire in a crowded theater” ruling, which Holmes himself regretted. Agree that policy turned better from FDR to Truman. Just not the DRASTIC change that came with the deaths of the four assassinated presidents.
I traveled in China for a bit. Neither in China nor elsewhere have I ever (to my knowledge) met someone to whom dogs taste like soap.
Look harder.