Someone—a well-meaning LadyKiller—made a typo and asked for a blog on Beaches and Books. But I'm sure she/he meant Bleachers, not beaches.
I wouldn't want to get sand on/in my Kindle; plus, I can't pay attention to words with the sounds of the beach in my ear.
Here's my ideal place to read: the (relatively) new bleachers in Times Square.
I imagine myself sitting in the seventh row center, with my recent read, NYPDRed (James Patterson and Marshall Karp) or Evidence of Blood by New Yorker Thomas H. Cook (so what if it's set in Georgia.) Both are great Bleacher Reads.
There's so much going in these bleachers—in other words, the outside world is being taken care of, and I'm free to immerse myself in the book world.