December 9, 2009--By the Time They Get to Copenhagen
Harvey said, “Isn’t it hypocritical that all those participants at the United Nations Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen showed up in big gas-guzzling limos after having flown in in private jets?”
I had no credible response.
“Not that I want our president to fly commercial, but couldn’t most of the others do so? If necessary they could have bought up the entire first-class cabin so they could stretch out and not be bothered by the rest of us proletarians?”
I had no adequate response.
“Don’t mishear me, I still don’t believe that humans are contributing that much to climate change.” Here we go again, I thought. “Did you look at those charts I sent you? By folks with scientific credibility who do not have an ideological axe to grind. Burt Rutan, for example. Did you look at those bar charts of his?”
I nodded to indicate that I had. Frankly, I was more interested in my second cup of coffee than arguing with Harvey about global warming. We’d been in Delray Beach for less than 72 hours and Harvey was already hot to trot. I needed a little more unwinding time. I was still trying to recover from my disappointment with Barack Obama’s speech about Afghanistan. And I was surely not going to reveal too much about that to him! We were planning to be here until May and I didn’t want to give him too much ammunition. Let him earn it.
Harvey was making bar charts with his hands raised in the air. Everyone in the Green Owl was looking at him, actually us, thinking he, really we were crazy. With his left hand he was indicating a very high bar—it represented, he claimed, natural carbon omissions—and with his right hand he held his thumb and pointer finger about two inches apart—saying this tiny bar in his air chart represented man’s contribution to global warming. He looked at that small gap between his fingers, smiling all the while at me, and said, “That’s right, we contribute only about two percent of the total.”
I signaled to Jen that I wanted my check. I needed to get some relaxing under my belt before taking him on. And I also knew where he was going next.
And he predictably said, “What about all those doctored emails they just discovered in England at the University of East Anglia? Not only did some of the leading scientists on the side which claims that humans are significantly responsible for global warming write to urge their colleagues to deemphasize the data that show the effect is exaggerated, but some of them got caught red-handed cooking the numbers. No pun intended.” Though from his grin that took in the entire restaurant I knew it was very much intended. “Cooked indeed,” I muttered.
Jen had passed me the check and I got up off my stool to signal to Harvey that I needed to go.
“And one more thing,” he said, taking hold of my arm to keep me from leaving, “Though I think Al Gore and the rest of them who fly in private jets are full of you know what, I don’t begrudge him making hundreds of millions investing in renewable energy projects.”
This stopped me in my tracks and got me to turn back toward him. “Really?” I said, thinking he was putting this out to somehow set me up or bait me.
“You know that I’m a capitalist to the core and so if he and his friends can make a fortune legitimately, I’m all for it.”
“I got you. We’re about to get into an argument again about socialism, right?” When he arrived at the Owl earlier that morning, not having seen us since October, he greeted us sotto voce so all could hear, “Well, the communists are back.” He was being affectionate of course. At least more or less.
“No really, not only more power to them but also, even though I am not convinced by the science that we are major contributors to global warming I think we absolutely must invest in clean and renewable sources of energy.”
“You what?” I thought my ears were still clogged from all the road noise from the long drive south.
“You heard me. For at least two reasons. First, even if we are only a minor part of the problem we should get away from using so much fossil fuel.”
“I agree with that. And this is good to hear from you of all people.”
“Second, and more important, if we weren’t so addicted to oil do you think we’d be at war in Iraq?” I was incredulous. I was convinced that I was hearing things. It was his Republicans who started that war. What had Jen slipped into my coffee? “If we want to get to the terrorists I could make a better case for invading the Sudan or Somalia.”
And with that he darted out, not allowing me a chance to assimilate all of this and welcome him at least in part to the progressive fold.
Rona said, “Don’t worry, tomorrow he’ll be back beating on you about Obama’s speech on job creation.”
I certainly hope so. Otherwise this will turn out to be more change than I can handle.
I had no credible response.
“Not that I want our president to fly commercial, but couldn’t most of the others do so? If necessary they could have bought up the entire first-class cabin so they could stretch out and not be bothered by the rest of us proletarians?”
I had no adequate response.
“Don’t mishear me, I still don’t believe that humans are contributing that much to climate change.” Here we go again, I thought. “Did you look at those charts I sent you? By folks with scientific credibility who do not have an ideological axe to grind. Burt Rutan, for example. Did you look at those bar charts of his?”
I nodded to indicate that I had. Frankly, I was more interested in my second cup of coffee than arguing with Harvey about global warming. We’d been in Delray Beach for less than 72 hours and Harvey was already hot to trot. I needed a little more unwinding time. I was still trying to recover from my disappointment with Barack Obama’s speech about Afghanistan. And I was surely not going to reveal too much about that to him! We were planning to be here until May and I didn’t want to give him too much ammunition. Let him earn it.
Harvey was making bar charts with his hands raised in the air. Everyone in the Green Owl was looking at him, actually us, thinking he, really we were crazy. With his left hand he was indicating a very high bar—it represented, he claimed, natural carbon omissions—and with his right hand he held his thumb and pointer finger about two inches apart—saying this tiny bar in his air chart represented man’s contribution to global warming. He looked at that small gap between his fingers, smiling all the while at me, and said, “That’s right, we contribute only about two percent of the total.”
I signaled to Jen that I wanted my check. I needed to get some relaxing under my belt before taking him on. And I also knew where he was going next.
And he predictably said, “What about all those doctored emails they just discovered in England at the University of East Anglia? Not only did some of the leading scientists on the side which claims that humans are significantly responsible for global warming write to urge their colleagues to deemphasize the data that show the effect is exaggerated, but some of them got caught red-handed cooking the numbers. No pun intended.” Though from his grin that took in the entire restaurant I knew it was very much intended. “Cooked indeed,” I muttered.
Jen had passed me the check and I got up off my stool to signal to Harvey that I needed to go.
“And one more thing,” he said, taking hold of my arm to keep me from leaving, “Though I think Al Gore and the rest of them who fly in private jets are full of you know what, I don’t begrudge him making hundreds of millions investing in renewable energy projects.”
This stopped me in my tracks and got me to turn back toward him. “Really?” I said, thinking he was putting this out to somehow set me up or bait me.
“You know that I’m a capitalist to the core and so if he and his friends can make a fortune legitimately, I’m all for it.”
“I got you. We’re about to get into an argument again about socialism, right?” When he arrived at the Owl earlier that morning, not having seen us since October, he greeted us sotto voce so all could hear, “Well, the communists are back.” He was being affectionate of course. At least more or less.
“No really, not only more power to them but also, even though I am not convinced by the science that we are major contributors to global warming I think we absolutely must invest in clean and renewable sources of energy.”
“You what?” I thought my ears were still clogged from all the road noise from the long drive south.
“You heard me. For at least two reasons. First, even if we are only a minor part of the problem we should get away from using so much fossil fuel.”
“I agree with that. And this is good to hear from you of all people.”
“Second, and more important, if we weren’t so addicted to oil do you think we’d be at war in Iraq?” I was incredulous. I was convinced that I was hearing things. It was his Republicans who started that war. What had Jen slipped into my coffee? “If we want to get to the terrorists I could make a better case for invading the Sudan or Somalia.”
And with that he darted out, not allowing me a chance to assimilate all of this and welcome him at least in part to the progressive fold.
Rona said, “Don’t worry, tomorrow he’ll be back beating on you about Obama’s speech on job creation.”
I certainly hope so. Otherwise this will turn out to be more change than I can handle.
posted by Steven Zwerling at
4:17 AM
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