this BBC story. Some idiots have vandalised a set of sand sculptures in Weymouth, including one of Andy Murray holding the Wimbledon trophy. Strangely, "Sculptures of ET, a smurf and the Gruffalo remained untouched."
And now the phrase is rolling round my head. Immortalised in sand. Sand which crumbles underneath you in a storm, sand which blows away on the wind (I watched Spiderman 3 last night, the powerful image of Spiderman saying 'I forgive you' to Sandman, who then, bit by bit, is released into a stream of sand and blows away).
As Spiderman discovers, fame isn't all its cracked up to be, better to be loved than to be immortalised in sand, waiting for the next dousing of rain, or the next idiot to come and destroy you. What a blessing to be able to receive eternal life as a gift, one that nothing can erode.
The pursuit of happiness has overtaken everything else as the top value in the West. But is it the right sort? Interesting research here contrasting two types, 'hedonic' happiness, the 'immortalised in sand' stuff of fame and pleasure, and 'eudamonic' which comes from a 'deep sense of purpose and well being'. Turns out a sense of purpose and meaning is good for your health, licking the earth is bad for it. Tastes sandy too.