Anniversary of me

Here I am: 48. It's a good number I think. Every year on my birthday, if I'm able, I give myself my favorite gift; I go to the ocean and I dip my toes for luck and best wishes. My family went along for the trip and it was good today. Although Caleb has been on the beach half-a-dozen times, this time he noticed sand. He let it run through his fingers, over and over. Instinctively he knew he'd not enjoy eating it, so he didn't taste. Since we were at Imperial Beach, I'm glad he didn't. California's neglected, illegitimate dirty child of sand, surfers and sewage. Tijuana sewage. Unacceptable for swimming more than half the days of the year. U.S. waters included. Mexico doesn't have the money to change their relic waste system. Mexico's neighbor spends money on wars. Seems kind of shitty.

By the way, those billions of tons of plastic that were driven out onto the beautiful ocean and dumped. It's broken down into a trillion pieces. It won't sink; it's floating onto the beach. It's floating into the mouths of ocean residents - you know, fish and mammals - dolphins, whales, those kinds of mouths.

Everything buried surfaces. Everything that lives and dies in the water hopes you are given equal treatment one day. Birthday wish: May the excrement of a six hundred and seventy three thousand fishes fly from the ocean depths, through the air onto the windows and sidewalks of your home, while you are mowing.

Happy birthday to me. Ohana ... Mahalo and Aloha.