Climate change chatter has been bubbling up for some time but listening to it hasn’t been a priority with me.
After all, there are too many front-burner matters to deal with, like checking out the Vegas betting lines, flossing my teeth, stretching my knees and back before they turn to stone, trying not to get killed while navigating the West Shore Bypass, agonizing over who’s going to win Dancing with the Stars Season 28 while failing to recall who the winners were of the previous 27 seasons.
A busy life, as you can see.
Maybe it’s just me, but lately I’ve been hearing more and more talk about climate change. Then Time magazine printed a special climate issue and it dawned on me that our descendants may literally be cooked unless they drown first.
Not that I previously was a climate change denier, but I never realized the gravity of all this. Climate change apparently is apocalyptic stuff, a global calamity that could destroy civilization unless we do something about it yesterday.
Oops, yesterday is gone.
Climate change is raising temperatures and sea levels and increasing the intensity of storms, droughts, forest fires and political rhetoric. It seems buying beachfront property no longer is a bright idea. Ditto for condos on glaciers.
So climate change now concerns me. If the world turns into an utter wasteland and our grandkids are fighting Mel Gibson’s grandkids for that last can of gasoline, that’s not a good thing.
Oops, gasoline no longer is a good thing.
But I prefer gasoline in my car in and lawn mower. Which is why I’m a climate change hypocrite. I care about climate change but personally I don’t want to do anything about it.
I don’t want to drive an electric car or use an electric lawn mower because I would run over the power cord anyway. As I already noted, I’m a busy guy who can’t waste time riding a donkey cart to Manhattan or cutting my grass with scissors.
I don’t want to hike and swim to Australia, I want to fly. Since I personally don’t have wings, I’ll have to use a jet.
I like to use straws. I like to eat red meat even though cattle pass gas like they eat baked beans instead of grass. I want to live in my air-conditioned home, not in a cave.
I love fluorescent light bulbs because I don’t want disrespect their marvelous inventor, Peter Cooper Hewitt. I still consider it an insult that Hewitt never received an invite to Dancing with the Stars.
I think windmills were fine for Don Quixote, but not me. You won’t find me dangling in protest from a pipeline, especially in cold weather.
I’m not going to put solar heating panels on my roof because the birds would only use them for target practice, making their effectiveness rather crappy.
If you live long enough to be melting while treading water in a post-apocalyptic nightmare, you can blame me.
I’m guilty as hell.
But if all of you out there dramatically change your lifestyles and minimize the harrowing perils of climate change, I’ll feel less guilty.
The onus is on you.
