on the eve of my 60th birthday i am stuck in a johnathan lethem's utopian novel 'the arrest' which is refreshing in subject matter, i mean who don't like the idea of small farming communities growing organics and weed, a society where most of the machines no longer work, yet this novel is a chore, a bore in some ways. i like his writing style, it's very readable and easy but the story is just, dull. it has a super machine which is a cross between a giant drill and a thunderbirds, but for most of the book it just makes good coffee. i mean i need more, much more. 
so i walk along the beach looking at the deluge left by high tide, it's devastation all the way, not just the huge amount of seaweed but the wooden remnants of wrecks, trees and ancient history. where does it all come from, where does it all go?
it's shark attack weather, it's not raining, today must be the first day in months where there is no rain. everything is damaged and pools of water are everywhere. it's overcast with huge threatening black clouds, and i have time. time to drink a coffee, read a little and maybe write some e mails.