Random scribbling before dawn, Part III

Why do I love Godzilla? And specifically, why is the first Godzilla movie (both Gojira, the magnificent Japanese cut, and Godzilla King of the Monsters, the American re-edit with Raymond Burr) one of my favorite films of all?

I suppose it has something to do with fire and explosions and all those things that kids like — I did first encounter the movie before I was 10 — but I always liked the small stories underneath the big one, featuring the characters of Emiko and Professor Yamane and the mysterious scientist Serazawa.

I even liked the soap opera of Peter Parker’s life more than (or at least as much as) Spider-Man’s fights. Sure, I was fascinated by his clashes with the Sandman and Doctor Doom and the Lizard and the Vulture and all that, but I think it was Pete who kept me coming back — would he triumph over the bully Flash Thompson and maybe get to know Betty Brandt a little better?

The big action stories have lots of bells and whistles and spectacular stuff, but if we don’t care about the people caught in the middle, it’s just an Independence Day fireworks display or a roller coaster ride, enjoyed for a few minutes and forgotten.

Stories need heart. The best Godzilla movies have heart. Marvel Comics prevailed because they had heart. When we care about the people first, we care more about the monsters and supervillains and dangerous explosions and bells and whistles.

Random scribbling before dawn, Part II

Ten minutes. That’s all it took — a short burst of effort, a little bit of time — to write the blog post I put up Wednesday. That’s how 272-day writing streaks happen.

“Can you meet this goal for this moment in time?”

“Sure, I guess I can.”

“Good. How about now? Can you do it for now?”

“Well, the pen is moving across the page, isn’t it?”

“How about for this moment?”

“Yes! And now you’re getting annoying.”

That’s an old anecdote and not original with me, and your eyes might glaze over reading it, but as I wrote in a song lyric a long time ago, there’s a reason a cliche’s a cliche. There’s a reason anecdotes get shared and retold:

There’s a truth in those old nuggets, if your un-glaze your eyes and give them a bit of thought for, well, a moment.

Random scribbling before dawn, Part I

I have nothing this morning, except a streak of 271 days, a habit that has become an expectation, and even if I am the only one in the world who expects it (notice I avoided the word “obligation”), it has become important, and that is progress.

All of my life I have worked to meet other people’s deadlines and neglected the ones I set for myself. “I’m going to finish this book by June 11” or “I’m going to meet this financial goal by my birthday in 2019” or “I’m going to lose this weight by Dec. 31.”

The establishment of this daily blog post represents a triumph over my self, and so, even if no one reads it or pushes the Like button, it moves me forward. Have a lovely day, and see you tomorrow.