Call me a Luddite. Call me an ostrich. Call me delusional. Just please, stop calling me up, mailing me propaganda, and bombarding my news with Chicken Little-esque reports of global warming. This is no longer a secret that needs to be leaked immediately!



Yes, there are climate changes. Drastic ones, at that. All I have to do is stick my head out the window to notice them. Having read an enormous amount of history, I�ve also noticed that drastic climate changes are nothing new. What I don�t recall reading were reports of ancient Egyptians blaming embalming fluid emissions for the years of drought. Granted, a great deal of scientific history may have been lost in the Alexandria Library flare up back in 48 BC. (Well, the year depends on the scholar you�re reading at the time.) However, as of this date, archaeologists have yet to decipher Sanskrit scrolls demanding improved flatulence guards for camels in order to cool down the desert. Nonetheless, global warming has been a long time coming, and I have no doubt we�ve hurried it along with kooky things like industrial revolutions and an abundance of walking beef carted along by big rigs.



What irritates the everlasting life out of me is the bit where they keep telling us what we already know. Global warming has progressed from concern to bandwagon. Look here, people. I know perfectly well that if I don�t recycle or use random and sundry products responsibly, I�m contributing wicker to the hand basket this planet is riding to hell in. You�ve told me. You�ve told the country. You�ve told the world. A Nobel Prize has been awarded for telling the world something it�s already been told. I�ve listened to possible solutions ranging from aerosol eradication to alternate fuel solutions to lowering my toilet paper usage to one square per bathroom incident. (Remind me to never shake hands with that concerned little rock star.)



Here�s what I�m asking. If you�re so all fired concerned about it, stop telling me it�s looming over my head like a vengeful IRS agent I denied in a cocktail lounge. Get together in your happy little think tank. Eat your healthy snacks, drink your green tea with anti-oxidants, meld your brilliant little minds, and then get back to me when you all agree on a viable solution. Really, if you haven�t driven me to a point by then where anything with the words �Global Warming� curdle my ovaries, I�ll read it. I�ll probably even take your advice if it�s within my ability to do so. And please, send someone in a lab coat to tell me what you came up with. It�s bloody hard to take seriously anyone with a name that involves a season, flower, or lunar phase.



Until that day arrives, I�ll tell you honestly, the first pieces of paper I�ll merrily recycle daily will be �literature� proclaiming I, personally, can stop Global Warming by unplugging my toaster and putting more corn in my fuel tank than on my table. I�ll be waiting.