Endless Summer

Al Gore headed to Capitol Hill yesterday to urge members of Congress to enact measures that would slow or halt the process of global warming.

Now, unlike the esteemed senator from Oklahoma, James Inhofe, I do believe that global warming exists. I’m just a little torn on why it’s such a bad thing.

The current issue of The Atlantic, which features the topic in its cover story, got me thinking. Yes, a spike in temperatures will suck if you live in Phoenix. Yes, rising ocean levels are a concern for coastal cities. But for Greenlanders, not so much. Russia is believed to have dragged its heels in acting on the issue because it’s damned cold in Siberia. I can sort of see Putin’s point.

The City of Chicago recently announced it would make 500,000 energy-efficient light bulbs available to residents—for free. The goal is to prevent greenhouse gas emissions. My fellow citizens, let’s not be so hasty in taking the mayor up on this offer.

Chicago weather is miserable 6-9 months out of the year. Not as nippy as Minsk perhaps, but we get our share of days with horizontal rain and 40 mph winds, the force of which tend to reach their climax just as I step out of doors.

I wouldn’t mind if that changed. I wouldn’t mind kicking my thermal socks and wool sweaters to the curb. People of Fargo and Minneapolis and Buffalo, you know what I’m talking about. If I thought global warming would turn our not-so-fair-weather city into the Midwestern equivalent of Honolulu, I would personally purchase every available aerosol can of White Rain hairspray and aim the nozzles smack at that hole in the ozone.

But according to Atlantic, such selfish action would have dramatic consequences. Africa would become so hot, everyone would leave and move to Denmark. Brazil would lust after Argentina’s cooler mountain regions. Eddie Bauer would have to write off massive unsold inventory of down parkas. I don’t want that on my conscience.

So, for the rest of the planet’s sake, I’m willing to sacrifice my dream of endless summer. Which, come to think of it, has its share of drawbacks. The only thing more frightening than irreversible, cataclysmic climate change—12 months of swimsuit season.