Politicians and scientists debate the recipe for Climate Change something like Italians debate the recipe for Veal Scallopini. In the long run, it's pointless, because no one changes hearts. However, there is one shred of environmental evidence that is incontrovertible, and it's right outside my very own front door. Here I speak with angry authority. My whole frigging neighborhood has changed with the ruthless, relentless, wraparound sounds of powered lawnmowers, leaf shredders, and snow blowers.
If there is a sweet bird or gentle breeze still left in this motorized world, I swear to God I haven't heard it on my block in the last 50 years!
Look, I'm no Luddite. I love what the industrial age has given me like indoor plumbing and microwave cooking. But some of the trade-offs for technological progress can be too much to bear. I mean, I haven't actually heard or smelled nature since I was a Boy Scout trekking trails. Sure I hated the bugs, but dug the beauty. However, in humanity's rush to conquer and subdue the environment, maybe we've pushed the envelope too far.
I worry about the polar ice caps melting. I am haunted by the images of seaside cities swamped by rising sea levels. And I am positively freaked out when I listen to all the science channels project what life may be like in the world of my grandchildren.
With all due respect to the next generations, I can't help admit my surging, self-centered concern about now. Just once before I leave this vale of tears, I pray for the day when I can open my doors and windows without the ugly cacophony of 7AM to 4PM motorized equipment rumbling all around me. I ask you Lord [or city government] is that too much to hope for?
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