To celebrate this strange newfangled season they have here in Colorado, I set out this morning, determined to have a day of pure summery fabulousity (take that, Spellcheck!) First, I went to a nearby Farmer's Market and happily cruised aisles bursting with fresh produce, grass-fed beef, homemade tortillas, dogs, babies and one small bluegrass band thrown in for good measure. I walked away with makins' for Mandarin sun tea, a bag of ripe apricots and some fresh roasted green chilies. Yum.
At this point in my Saturday, I'm feeling pretty damn brilliant. That all changed when I went and got a bikini wax. That's right, I paid someone to rip out my most sensitive naturals. It felt like a summery thing to do but as my red welts and I did our best cowpoke waddle out of the salon, my 'genius' waned. (I like to alternate the wisdom levels of my decisions - intense cleverness followed by outright stupidity followed by a dash of savvy. Rinse, and repeat.)
So, I crossed the street and bought some lemonade (and a free cookie!) from some enterprising young girls on the corner of Pearl and Virginia for only 25 cents. They were saving money to ride the paddleboats at Washington Park. As a former-lemonade-stand-girl, I wanted to hug them all. As a full grown subscriber to The Wall Street Journal, I wanted to advise them to raise their prices ASAP or they'd all be there until next summer.
Next, I met up with my fine new friend, Kath, in Lakewood. (Those who know me well understand the irony of me traveling across country only to end up in Lakewood. Once again, no lake in sight.) We had a great patio lunch and cruised some shops. Again, in celebration of the season, I bought a purty new sundress and a pink ice cream maker. Between the two, I expect limitless joy.
Then, just to extend that lovely, sunny feeling, we went to see Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth" which carefully and completely illustrates the case for global warming. Trouble is, anyone that would see this film already knows what kind of trouble we are in so it is, unfortunately, preaching to the choir. Still, I admire the man for taking his message out there, working it as hard as he can.
Basically, since the industrial revolution - and the last 30 years in particular - we've been cooking the Earth's atmosphere with our love of fossil fuels. This creates a situation which traps more of the sun's heat, thus, sparking a rise in temperatures on land and most tragically, at sea. We've seen the warning signs already (heat waves, melting glaciers, freak rains/floods, vicious hurricanes, etc.) but within the next 50 years, our little blue marble is going to become increasingly ... er, pink - not to mention, incredibly moist, as in, underwater. Manhattan, downtown San Francisco (!) and that flaccid part of Florida? Gone. That's right, as a nation, we stand to lose all our stockbrokers, hipsters and golfers which would cripple us as a world superpower and no, I don't think FEMA-issued floaties will help.
And that's just us, not to mention other parts of the world. Of course, the U.S. is the worst offender in this. ("We're Number One! Fuck, YEAH!") Yup, we're that guy that wants to kill themselves and take everyone with us, kinda like those suicide bombers that are so en vogue these days. Truth is, until we wake up and smell the coffee, we will continue to be that asshole.
When Karen and I emerged from the theatre, an epic thunderstorm had moved in and was dumping torrential rain on the helpless humans. I thought about the day's purchases sitting in my gas-guzzling Ford truck as I watched folks in flip-flops and t-shirts run from the weather's sudden fury. For the second time that day, I didn't feel so smart. I pondered the famous Gandhi quote ("You must be the change you want to see in the world") and realized I'd have to do some serious coffee-smelling myself. Sigh.
Well, at least I'll have plenty of ice cream.