Friday, March 29, 2024

The Top 5 Longreads of the Week

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In this week’s edition:

  • Heart-warming tales of missed connections—found again.
  • The Army veteran who ended a mass shooting.
  • Nine perspectives on the prescription drug, Adderall.
  • The keepers of the eider duck.
  • A Moby Dick pilgrimage.

1. “To the Train Lady with Dark Brown Hair …: Extraordinary Stories of Four Couples who Found Love via Small Ads

Amelia Tait | The Guardian | March 16, 2024 | 3,828 words

Imagine an encounter that changes your life, a random meeting in which you find your person. Amelia Tait’s fun piece highlighting four couples who met by chance was exactly what I needed. Tait’s story surprises as much as it entertains. Did you know that placing ads to find that missed connection goes back at least 300 years? “Though he may not have been the first, Samuel Reeves did it in 1709,” writes Tait. “Writing in the British periodical Tatler, Reeves sought the attention of a woman he had helped out of a boat. He ‘desire[d] to know where he may wait on her to disclose a matter of concern,’ he said, and provided an address where he could be reached.” Tait profiles four couples who—despite missteps, redirections, and the randomness of life—managed to reconnect and begin a long-term relationship. Each is worthy of a Hallmark movie but together, these stories are much more than just a series of meet-cutes. This piece is about the thrill of possibility as it is about the couples themselves; it’s about taking a risk in striking up a conversation, something that happens less and less often as we hide in plain sight behind our mobile devices. After all, you can’t lock eyes with your special-someone-to-be if they’re locked on your phone. —KS

2. The Hero

Dan Zak | The Washington Post | March 16, 2024 | 13,358 words

On November 19, 2022, a shooter entered a queer nightclub in Colorado Springs and fired approximately 60 bullets in 38 seconds. Five people were killed. If not for Richard Fierro, an Army veteran who helped to subdue the shooter, there might have been more victims—hence the headline of Dan Zak’s profile. But Zak troubles the notion of “hero,” and rightly so. Fierro doesn’t wear the mantle comfortably: he channeled his adrenaline, his training, and even his personal trauma when he threw himself onto the shooter and pummeled his head over and over with a handgun. “The fight was endless, graceless—like nothing out of a movie,” Zak writes. I held my breath while reading this sequence. It is all sound, instinct, and movement, and it is raw, brutal, and disturbing. In Zak’s telling, praising Fierro for what he did, saying thank goodness you were there, misses the point: No one should ever be in Fierro’s position. No one should have to risk their life to stop a mass shooting. And no one should struggle to cope with that experience, which Fierro is now doing, alongside his whole family. His loved ones were in the club during the massacre; his future son-in-law was killed. At a gala in New York, while strangers toasted him Fierro asks, “How about a whole family with PTSD?” Zak puts a sharper point on the question: “How do you survive that?” —SD

3. Club Med

Various writers | Pioneer Works Broadcast | March 21, 2024 | 11,738 words

I’ve never taken Adderall. Some of my friends in college, years ago, took it to help them study. Better that than the speed and meth that passed through our social circles, I thought. But recent stories on the drug’s shortage reminded me that millions of people depend on it to function and focus. This Pioneer Works Broadcast series is a kaleidoscope: nine writers sharing their perspectives and experiences on the prescription drug. Some are sobering, some are funny. All of them are intense in their own way. In “Tweaking on Main,” Danielle Carr writes about our internet addictions and digital behaviors and how Adderall and Silicon Valley go hand in hand. In “Adderall House Style,” Amber A’Lee Frost explains how you can identify prose written on Adderall. In “Tapering,” Kendall Waldman muses on how the drug was almost perfect, which was precisely the problem. It’s tough to highlight only a few here, and I recommend you read them all in one sitting. Taken together, the voices in the collection are a prism that reflects, distorts, and ultimately illuminates the complicated relationship people have with Adderall. —CLR

4. The Eider Keepers

Devon Fredericksen | bioGraphic| March 21, 2024 | 4,248 words

Reading this essay, I realized I never made the glaring connection that eiderdown comes from a duck called an eider. After forgiving myself for my anatine ignorance, I thoroughly enjoyed Devon Fredericksen’s education on the matter, alongside Pål Hermansen’s beautiful photography to show me their appearance (boy eiders look cool, girls are brown). Spending time with the eiders of the Vega Archipelago, Fredericksen details their relationship with the 50-odd people who take up temporary residence as “bird keepers” during nesting season, watching over the ducks and collecting their oh-so-soft down once they leave. Fredericksen conjures some gorgeous images: The little houses that the keepers make for the ducks that turn the shore into “a Liliputian coastal village.” The six-foot-tall, Viking-lookalike keeper, who coos over the brooding mothers and tells them “how lovely they look.” This duck stewardship has been going on for 400 years, and despite some worrying statistics on duck decline, it’s a refreshingly positive relationship between humans and nature. The key, perhaps, is that it stopped being about money—the Viking, for example, only collects enough down for one duvet a year. There is no factory farming in these Liliputian duck houses (and some mansions, in case a duck prefers communal living). As Fredericksen writes, for these guardians, “love may be the most genuine reason to explain their continued engagement.” —CW

5. With Melville in Pittsfield

J.D. Daniels | The Paris Review | March 26, 2024 | 2,155 words

I’ve never read Moby Dick. I know that’s considered a grievous sin in certain circles. However, to those people, I say: well, how familiar are you with Pittsfield, Massachusetts? That’s what I thought! Not to brag, but I saw Dumb and Dumber in a mall there. Anyway. J.D. Daniels has read Moby Dick. Many times, apparently. Which is why he drove to Pittsfield to tour Herman Melville’s one-time home. Thankfully, you don’t need to have read Moby Dick to appreciate Daniels’ short but transportive piece. It would help if you like driving on back roads, or fried chicken, or art’s ability to influence your life. Or passages like “You want to be careful what you wish for. Inspiration means breathing. Fish breathe by drowning.” There’s plenty of Melville in here, sure, but you’ll absorb everything you need by dint of Daniels’ own fervor. A heartbeat thrums behind every knowing recitation, every memory, every word. And when you actually arrive at the tour, surrounded by people who, like me, haven’t read Moby Dick, you’ll fully understand Daniels’ numb disbelief. How can the world be full of people who have yet to experience such all-consuming beauty? —PR

Audience Award

What story got our readers clicking this week?

The Hotel Guest Who Wouldn’t Leave

Matthew Haag | The New York Times | March 24, 2024 | 3,004 words

Mickey Barreto, a man who’d checked into room 2565 of the New Yorker Hotel for one night, was able to claim ownership of the entire building using an obscure New York housing law. How did he do it? Matthew Haag explains in this bonkers story. —CLR



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Thursday, March 28, 2024

Dog Duty

For The Pulp, Jacob Baynham profiles the Bag Man, a bearded, balding man in his 70s who scoops abandoned dog poop on Mount Jumbo’s “L” trail in Missoula, Montana. Most days each week he displays what he’s collected in a colorful pile at the trailhead, sometimes with a passive aggressive note, hoping that hikers and runners will start picking up after their canine companions. He doesn’t even own a dog.

To me, the story of the Bag Man is about more than poop. It’s a story about obsession and the mysteries of human behavior. It’s a story about the rules we write down and the rules that go unspoken. It’s about community, shame and our delicate social bonds. Almost all of us have been on both sides of this. We’ve all felt the chagrin of being called out for breaking a rule, and at some point, we’ve all wanted to call out others for their bad behavior. Most can agree: People should pick up their dog poop. But the story of the Bag Man is about what we should do when they don’t.



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A Chronicle Reporter Went Undercover in High School. Everyone is Still Weighing the Fallout

In 1992, mirroring the plot of the romantic comedy “Never Been Kissed,” San Francisco Chronicle reporter Shann Nix went undercover at a high school. Peter Hartlaub looks back at her reporting and the ethics of this scheme. Imposing our current values on previous work can be fraught, but Hartlaub comes at this with important questions, not judgment.

Jones immediately made friends with two fellow seniors named Erica and Heather, who’d been assigned by Vidal to show her around. She was also accepted into the Peer Resource Center, an innovative school program built like a clubhouse, where students talked about difficult issues and were encouraged by school counselors to mediate their own disputes. It was a petri dish of thoughtful discussion and raw emotion.



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With Melville in Pittsfield

There’s the journey and then there’s the destination—but there’s also the motivation. All three are on display in J.D. Daniel’s essay about driving to visit Arrowhead, Herman Melville’s onetime home and writing habitat. A memorable diversion for a slow Thursday.

Snow in the yards and snow on the roofs of Grafton, snow on the rocks, snow on the hills. A red-tailed hawk crossed left to right in front of my car so low I could see the brown and white marks on her belly. Snow on the banks of the stream at Auburn. Snow on the stonework underneath the power lines. Snow in the wide white fields. Snow falling on Charlton westbound service plaza. Coming into Palmer, the Quaboag River was partly frozen, white with snow. Coming into Wilbraham, Home of [illegible] Ice Cream, its sign was buried under snow. Coming into West Springfield, visibility got low at the Connecticut River. My car was encrusted with dirty road salt like a steak au poivre. I smelled like a french fry. Some of the huge spears of ice hanging from red and brown rock walls to the left and right were netted off, as if to discourage or prevent ice climbing. Made me want to do a bit of front-pointing.



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The Eider Keepers

A gentle piece exploring the relationship between the people of the Vega Archipelago and the eider ducks who nest there. Mixing between the ecology and history of these islands, this is lovingly reported, and—for once—humans are portrayed as protectors rather than destroyers.

I visited Vega hoping to understand what drives someone like Stensholm to spend up to six months each year living mostly alone, without running water or electricity, on a sliver of ice-scoured strandflat at the top of the world. In a time when so many stories about humans and wild animals are about harm, habitat loss, or extinction, I wanted to witness an example of the ways humans and wild animals can not only coexist but benefit from one another. I wanted to see how a grown man’s heart could break over a duckling, not because he hoped to turn a profit but because he had inherited a legacy of love.



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Wednesday, March 27, 2024

‘They Scream in Hunger’ – How Israel is Starving Gaza

This piece is simple, with the reporters detailing the meals of three families in Gaza over three days, counting their calorie intake. It’s a strikingly effective way of highlighting the reality of hunger: by removing the higher constructs and focusing on the day-to-day the concept of famine becomes more than just a concept.

After having nothing to eat for breakfast or lunch, the family managed to get hold of three tins of fava beans.

Umm Mohammed puts aside two tins, knowing they may not be able to get any food tomorrow.

“What should I do? If I feed them today, how will I feed them tomorrow? I keep thinking, how will I provide them with food for the next day?”



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“To the Train Lady with Dark Brown Hair … :” Extraordinary Stories of Four Couples who Found Love via Small Ads

For The Guardian, Amelia Tait shares four stories of chance encounters and serendipitous reunions, along with the surprising history of the missed connection ad. She suggests that the world is full of connections waiting to be made, if only we stop staring at our phones.

They spoke for the entire five-hour duration of their flight; Darcy, who was in her 30s, told him about her job sorting out the “instant replays” for sports tournaments, and the pair told “stupid jokes” that made each other laugh. At one point, Scott asked Darcy if she was dating anyone. She hesitated. Technically she was, but she had already decided to break up with her boyfriend the night before, because they had been on the phone and he hadn’t stopped talking about his ex-wife. Darcy stumbled over Scott’s question. She couldn’t tell him the truth: “Well, I’m dating somebody, but I’m thinking about dumping him because I might like you.”

Scott got the hint and changed the subject. The pair enjoyed the rest of the flight together, but Darcy said goodbye abruptly when they landed – her boyfriend was picking her up from the airport, and in those days the people you were meeting could come right up to the gate. She saw Scott again by the luggage carousel while her boyfriend was busy smoking a cigarette – they shared a look. Then they shared another look. He left and turned back to look at her one last time. For weeks afterwards, Darcy couldn’t believe that she had just let him walk away.



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The Foreign Language That Changed My Teenage Son’s Life

Even as a young child, Paul Tough’s son had a tendency to go all in on new interests. “Max would go deep, finding satisfaction not just in the playing but also in the experience of plunging himself into a new and unfamiliar world and mastering all of its contours,” writes Tough. During the pandemic, Max—a shy kid—took up birding as a hobby, and Tough found that he began to interact more with other people. Then, when Max was 12, he decided to learn how to speak Russian, a seemingly random choice that ultimately opened him up to a whole new world. In this essay for The New York Times Magazine, Tough recounts a father-son trip they took to Uzbekistan, where Max could immerse himself in the language he had been studying. The piece is about learning to navigate and communicate in a foreign place, yes, but—more importantly—is about a parent learning how to sit back and watch their grown child navigate the world on their own.

There was a part of me that felt proud of his deep dives, but if I’m being honest, they often made me uneasy. When you’re a kid, knowing a ton about obscure subjects can be an early sign of intellectual curiosity, but just as often, it can be a symptom of misfiring neurons, an omen of future mental struggles. Sometimes the child who can tell you everything there is to know about dinosaurs or baseball statistics or the solar system grows up to be a groundbreaking scientist or a brilliant entrepreneur. Sometimes he just grows up to be a guy who never moves out of his parents’ basement.

As I watched Max walk off with a group of foreign strangers into an unknown land, it felt like a glimpse of my future, and his. I was slowing down, and he was speeding up.



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Tuesday, March 26, 2024

The Darkness That Blew My Mind

Tim Neville encounters himself in this piece—after immersing himself in darkness for a few days. His thought processes (and hallucinations) during this sensory deprivation are fascinating, and Neville does not hold back in sharing the places his mind takes him to.

At first the visions are fun, because they seem so real. I blink a dozen times to confirm that the room has indeed become a limestone cave illuminated by beams that shoot from my eyes. And the darkness is no longer monolithic, but swirls with shades of black and a parade of textures. Meanwhile, my proprioceptive senses have gone haywire. I take a bath, and when the water cools I can see my foot reach up to find the hot-water faucet handle. I can’t see any detail. My foot just looks like a darker, smoother patch of darkness, but there’s no mistaking that it’s there.



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Is It Even Possible to Become More Productive?

Deep work. Flow states. We’re awash in the language and concepts of “productivity,” all seemingly calibrated to help us escape digital distraction and answer the question of how to be more effective. But for someone like Esquire editor (and Longreads alum) Kelly Stout, who used to literally fantasize about having more work to do, immersing yourself in self-maximization raises some questions of its own.

The main question of my day, every day, was: How can I get myself into a flow state? I would sometimes overshoot the mark and get myself flowing on flow itself, leaving not much for the actual work. On Newport’s advice in Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World, I planned out every minute of my day on a sheet of graph paper, dividing the day into optimistically labeled chunks. The joy I felt when I could actually produce was overwhelming yet relaxing. I felt like a hybrid vehicle at a stop sign: silent, sustainable, efficient, morally correct. But I despaired when, instead of using the designated hours for “deep work,” I used them to look at photos of my dog on my phone from when she was a puppy or write an email about a contract. I felt like a third grader telling the teacher his favorite subject was recess when I filled in “lunch!” at 12:30.



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Club Med

Colleges and graduate schools. Creative industries. Wall Street. Silicon Valley. Adderall is everywhere*, prescribed and taken by millions of people—some of them the thinkers who have advanced modern society, the visionaries who have created the art and entertainment we consume, the minds who have built the internet to which many of us are addicted. The nine dispatches in this Pioneer Works series (by Daniel Kolitz, Geoffrey Mak, Danielle Carr, Leon Dische Becker, Amber A’Lee Frost, P.E. Moskowitz, Joshua Tempelhof, Elena Comay del Junco, and Kendall Waldman) offer a glimpse into amphetamine culture. What is it like? Why is it so hard to quit? How did we get here? Taken together, they’re a fascinating collection of perspectives on the topic and show the lasting effects of the drug on multiple generations.

*Yes, there’s been an Adderall shortage, which is addressed in a number of these pieces.

On Adderall, I can’t tolerate music unless it’s excellent. I hear it all. Hi-hats pattering like fingernails tapping on glass. The terrifying serenity of a kick drum tuned to a minor key.

Geoffrey Mak

The trouble with taking Adderall for your Instagram addiction is that, neurochemically, amphetamines hook you deeper into the endless scroll. You can’t fix the Internet attention economy crisis with Adderall, because the Internet was made by people on Adderall, for people on Adderall. The more Adderall you take, the better the whole thing gets (by “better” I mean “worse”).

Danielle Carr

Given too much room to roam, an Adderall article or essay can become overly ambitious, wandering and sprawling out into a totally unreadable (and unpublishable) manifesto that usually ends up foundering under the weight of overload. Adderall might help you annex Poland, but you’re not gonna take Russia in winter.

Amber A’Lee Frost


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Monday, March 25, 2024

Endo Days

Endometriosis, a painful condition in which endometrial tissue grows outside the uterus, is poorly understood and hard to diagnose. In this piece for The Baffler, Jess McAllen describes what it’s like to navigate the confusing and toxic online world of endo care, especially the (mis)information found in community forums and the content shared by social media-savvy surgeon-influencers.

All told, the average time from onset of symptoms to a confirmed diagnosis is over seven years.

Seven years is a long time. In the absence of clarity or relief, what’s a patient in pain to do? Recently, a cottage industry operating mostly on social media has sprung up to address this longstanding lack, offering advice and services to thousands of sufferers who turn to the internet for answers. On Facebook, there is Nancy’s Nook, a two-hundred-thousand-member private group run by a retired nurse named Nancy Petersen—the “Nancy” referred to in the Endometriosis Summit video—who maintains an elite list of personally vetted “Nook surgeons.” Then there are the surgeons themselves, who sometimes comment on Facebook support pages, or, like Vidali, entice people via Instagram. Many of these self-identified “endo specialists” are out-of-network, which means the cost of their procedures is often out-of-pocket, without a guarantee of diagnosis. Or of relief: the recurrence rate of endo tissue after surgery can be as high as 67 percent, yet some surgeons promote their operations as a panacea in jaunty posts and videos. The incentives of social media have collided with the complexity of endometriosis to create an environment rife with false promises and conflicting information.



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The Hotel Guest Who Wouldn’t Leave

Mickey Barreto, a man who’d checked into room 2565 of the New Yorker Hotel for one night, was able to claim ownership of the entire building using an obscure New York housing law. How did he do it? Matthew Haag explains in this bonkers story.

While the lawyer scrambled to file a lawsuit to revert ownership of the hotel, Mr. Barreto sent off an email to Wyndham Hotels and Resorts, which manages the property, notifying it that he now owned it. A Wyndham representative asked for a litany of legal and sales documents to be sent as proof. (They were not.)

Mr. Barreto also sent a memo to M&T Bank, the hotel’s lender, and asked for all accounts to be put into his name. (They were not.)

Next, Mr. Barreto walked into the Tick Tock Diner, which is connected to the lobby by double doors. He dropped off a letter addressed to the owners. Monthly rent checks, he wrote, should be sent to a new address: Room 2565.



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The Hero

The November 2022 shooting at Club Q in Colorado Springs claimed five lives. If it weren’t for Rich Fierro, an Army veteran who helped subdue the shooter, more people might have died. Fierro has been widely lauded for his bravery, but as Dan Zak finds in this moving profile, being a hero is complicated. Fierro’s wife and daughter, Jess and Kassy, survived the shooting, but his future son-in-law did not:

Rich was scared to talk to Kassy about it. Her loss showed Rich a version of his life that was impossible to contemplate: What if he had lost Jess when he was 22? He believed that he relied more on Jess’s strength than she ever had on his. Where would he be now, without her?

Here’s your story: the Green Beret coming home, and his wife jumps in his arms …

Jess had repressed so much feeling over the years, when Rich was deployed, to stay focused on the mission: keeping the family together. But now those emotions were erupting, and it felt as if everything could come apart. At one point, months after the shooting, Jess went to urgent care because she thought she was having a heart attack. Her blood pressure tripled in a matter of minutes. It was a panic attack.

But now his wife has been through the same thing …

Rich already had an understanding of his own trauma responses, and an established support system of government services and fellow military veterans. Jess and Kassy did not.

At the gala in New York—where strangers toasted his valor and Jess called him a farce—Rich would offer a diagnosis of the Fierros’ new reality after a long night of drinking: “How about a whole family with PTSD?”

How do you survive that?



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Fire. Dog. Life. Ice

People embrace extremity for all kinds of reasons. Aimee Levitt ended up in the Antarctic because, as she tells us, she was angry. Angry at her job situation, angry at what her life had become, angry at herself for letting things get this way. So: extremity. Buffeted by cold and wind, yet buffered from a world that was lurching toward a pandemic. No easy resolutions here, though—just a plainspoken excavation of the interior journey that goes along with a physical one.

I went home and Googled. It turns out there are a lot of ways you can go dogsledding. You can go for an afternoon, or for a couple of days. You can stay in a nice, warm cabin or at a lodge where they give you elaborate meals and hot chocolate spiked with whiskey when you come back from your afternoon with the dogs (you could probably get that in a flask for the sled, too). You can get a full spa treatment, with massages. For some reason, I rejected all of these. I’m not sure why. I think I was still thinking of the two women sleeping in a tent they had hauled from Istanbul to Tibet on the back of a bicycle. Real adventure is hard.

And that was how I landed on Outward Bound. I read the website very carefully. I wasn’t quite sure it would make me into a true adventurer or even a better, more confident person, but there were dogs. They also said no one had ever died on one of their expeditions. I was sold.



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