On my travels, I met Herc, Charles Atlas' son. I went to see why Charles hadn't been answering my letters. Turns out he died in 1972. Herc was not impressed. Long Beach NY was nice. Didn't go to New York city at this time. It seems like it would be boring. I just stayed on the beach and played volleyball and lifted weights, in spite of Atlas' regimen. Nobody kicked sand in my face.