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Monday 6/30/25

You can't make a person who doesn't care care. You can't make a bad person be a good person.

I write, I create, I think, I work, I run stairs, I write, create, think, and work some more, I drink tea and listen to "Dark Star," I try to keep going.

This is the type of information/feedback that the host site provides for me, as seen this morning:

You published 36 posts in the last 30 days, while most sites like yours published 2.0 times.

Start posting more frequently. Bloggers who post every week increase their traffic 2.5X.

You're telling me I posted 18X more content than other sites like mine, but I should post more often.

Wow. So well thought out and smart.

And most sites like mine. I bet there are a lot of those. All of those people like me doing what I'm doing.

I'd said a little while ago that it would be helpful to get to 250 circuits of stairs since May 15 in the Bunker Hill Monument by July 1. I needed to be at 200 by that day to be on pace for my goal of 400 circuits in three months, which is very ambitious and mostly resulted from me doing the math incorrectly in the first place and thinking I had four months to do the 400 circuits and bring my total for a year's period to 1000 circuits. 250 by July 1 would give me a small cushion for the days I'll lose to the Monument being closed because of the heat and other things. And, ideally, I'd like to be done in the first week of August and start the count over for the "new season."

The heat wave broke, which has helped me out. I ran ten circuits of stairs each of the last four days in the Monument, so right now I'm at 255 since May 15. Saturday morning you could see your breath, which is of course unusual for June 28, but part of this had to do with the amount of moisture--it was misty--in the air. The temperature was in the low sixties, though.

There's a pretty park ranger who is friendly with me, and when I was done, she said, "You're literally steaming," on account of the clouds of vapor rising from me. I appreciated the proper use of the term "literally," which is a great rarity in our world. I'll make sure to do at least five circuits today, but ten would be better.

It'll sound self-evident, but how you breathe when working out--and certainly when running stairs--makes a good deal of difference. There's more to that statement. How you get your breath, the deep breaths you take, how you use breathing to regulate yourself. I've become more educated about this over the years. Sometimes people will hear me without seeing me, and think that someone is struggling, but I'm not. My breathing is part of what allows me to keep the pace I've set. And then coming down, I'm still often taking deep breaths. Pulling all of that oxygen in. Again, it's a form of regulation. It definitely makes a difference, and I wasn't aware of this like I am now at earlier times.

Yesterday was a bit of a grind in the Monument. Why? It was warmer--but not bad--and sometimes the reps add up and wear you down a little. I can say with almost completely certainty that I've never ran more stairs than I've been running over these last six weeks.

Yesterday marked 3269 days, or 467 weeks, without a drink.

When John Openshaw arrives at 221B Baker Street on that rainy night in Conan Doyle's "The Five Orange Pips," he only has what may be an hour left to live. He tells his story to Holmes and Watson, he leaves, and on his way back home, he's murdered. You're listening to a man about to die, with no idea that he's drawing his final breaths. How long does it take to tell the story? A half hour? Then he's outside in the rain again and we know what happens.

I finished "Just Pants" Saturday. This is part of a letter pertaining to it.

Here we are--this story, which was begun in February, is now done.

There's a loneliness epidemic in this world. People are in isolation. It doesn't matter, typically, if they're married and thronged with kids. Disconnection is now the norm. People often make choices in order to try and avoid being alone, but when this is the motivation, their reason, as such, they end up alone regardless of who is physically proximate.

The internet makes us more alone, with its simulacrum of community and connection. None of that is real. For many, it is the only connection that they have to anyone--including themselves--and it's fantasy. Delusion. Emptiness. Our devolving communication skills make us more alone. So many other things, too.

I wanted to write a story that spoke to the loneliness in our world--the loneliness pandemic, if you will--which is also a timeless story that's not confined to any age. I did this with bullying and "Friendship Bracelet." So though the two stories are very different, they do have that idea--of being works for this moment in time that are also ageless--in common.

Anyway, this story is very good, and I couldn't guess how many times I've gone through it. Takes as long as it takes, whatever that amount of time is, and now it's finished.

I don't know what book this will be in. Perhaps Become Your Own Superhero: Intrepid Exceptions to Modern Fiction. "Still Good" is apt to be completed soon as well. That one is a strong contender for There Is No Doubt: Story Girls, but I'll have to see. 

I heard something remarkable the other day: The first recorded live performance of the Stone Roses' "She Bangs the Drums," which is theorized as coming from the Manchester International I on either May 30, 1987 or November 13 of that same year. The song runs for less than two minutes--they hadn't worked out the middle section yet but it's an excellent, fascinating performance. The person who made this available said that they will do the same shortly with the tape of the entire gig. I keep checking back, because this would be a big deal so far as Roses live recordings go. We only have one tape right now from 1987, and it's a classic. I don't know what this setlist would look like, to be honest. The tape would be somewhat of a missing link. I hope they do post it soon.

Found and downloaded a rare live album by the Swinging Blue Jeans from 1965 (and also nabbed a set of their BBC recordings the other day) and Bear Family's complete recordings from 1934-1943 of the Sons of the Pioneers.

Watched 1957's Curse of the Demon again--going to write a piece on it for the horror film book. Dana Andrews' character is a real psychical stick-in-the-mud in this one. The last great film by director Jacques Tourneur--though he was only in his early fifties and would would live for another twenty years--after ten years between great films. Tourneur wasn't done--he moved to TV before retiring in 1966--but he stopped directing films relatively early, despite being able to make various kinds of films. I wonder if he preferred a studio type of system rather than independence.

Also watched 1950's 711 Ocean Drive, an Edmond O'Brien mob picture--with the term "racket" more commonly being used back then--that runs for 102 minutes. Kind of long for a crime picture at this time. O'Brien's character is almost entirely unlikable. Guy just pushes his way around and into everything.

More work on "Still Good." Back when Marcus was the editor of Harper's, I think he would have published this one. It sticks everything. And everything about it is unique. I've also returned to "Comes a Day, Comes a Man" and am working on that one again. Brave works.

Video of the last few stairs on circuit number ten in the Monument yesterday.

This is the view from laying on my back in the grass recovering for a couple minutes afterwards.