Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Auguries of global warming


More snow in the Northeast corridor. A half foot last night, even as far south as Kentucky. Eight to 12 inches forecast for tonight in New York City. Massive flight cancellations yet again.

I strolled across campus here in Seattle today. Green shoots are popping up through the ground. Buds have appeared on all the flowering trees, some about to burst out at any moment into pink and white blossoms. A high of 57 degrees was expected today; tomorrow's high is expected to reach 60°.

Seattleites, New Yorkers:

Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to endless night.

Last week's New Yorker devoted its "Shouts & Murmurs" humor column to a roast of Mayor Bloomberg, deriding the New York mayor's aristocratic bemusement and detachment in the face of citizen outrage over his inept handling of snow accumulations in the city streets.

December 28th [his "diary" indicates]. The criticism mounts. Someplace called the Bronks (sp?) remains snowbound. Am I missing something? Yes, there is a lot of snow. Yes, we haven't plowed it. Yes, the subways and buses aren't really running so well. So why don't people simply use their helicopters? ... What is a snowstorm but an airborne snowing event? The American mystery deepens. Like a snowdrift. It's late and we are out of wine and my pajamas are itchy ...

In a snowless Seattle -- where a Seattle Times headline reads "Winter on Seattle's waterfront offers uncrowded fun (plus fish and chips)" -- our own ditzy mayor, free of weather concerns, can ponder idly the advisability of ending drunken street rowdiness at 2 a.m., when the bars close, by the simple expedient of eliminating the mandatory 2 a.m. closing hour. Presumably we'll find drunks more tolerable at 3 a.m. or 4 a.m.

In Washington, President Obama struggles by motorcade from the airport to the White House. The weather had grounded Marine One, the presidential helicopter. Here in the Northwest, on the other hand, spring began yesterday for fishing enthusiasts, as the first spring chinook of the season was caught in the Columbia. Nearly 200,000 of the salmon are expected to pass upstream to spawn, negotiating the hazards of rapids, fish ladders, and armies of avid fishermen.

Repeated stories about icy weather on the East Coast draw the same repetitious on-line comments: "You call this global warming?" "Wonder what Al Gore has to say about this?" The commentators ignore the second straight year of unseasonably mild winter in the Northwest, apparently uninterested in what this recent warmth might mean.

Meanwhile, the polar ice keeps melting, the polar bears grow more frantic, the mountain glaciers keep shrinking, and storms worldwide become ever greater and more vicious. Does no one understand that there's no incongruity between "global warming" and "local cold weather"?

Ah, I think to myself, to be a teenager once again. To wear shorts and t-shirts in January, oblivious to whatever future climatological horrors this odd weather may portend. But what the heck? Why should I care? Let's be glad we're not in New York. Walk in the warm air. Enjoy seeing flowers bloom in mid-winter. Why should only Californians live like Californians?

Let Mayor Bloomberg and the polar bears worry about where it's all leading.

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Art work by Isaac Littlejohn Eddy, reproduced in NY Times (1-26-11)

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