All the Things Wrong with the World are Made Right With You

My son usually introduces me to new music on road trips. This time he navigated hwy 22 to Memphis and we talked about the future of the planet. Gerald has done quite a bit of research on global warming and said we have reached the point of no return: life as we've known it will not be the same for future generations of humans.

We were commuting from his law school in Tuscaloosa to Memphis, where my husband's family will gather for simultaneous celebrations of birthdays and Mother's Day.  I leaned toward him, hanging on every word, while at the same time admiring the vibrant green trees and pasture land we passed.  There had been frequent showers in the area and his dire warnings ran counter to the verdant zone through which we drove. 

"People take all this for granted," he said. "We abuse it." 

He's living in an area of fervent unbelievers . . . in global warming. They do believe in hell fire, though, so maybe a convincing argument could be made from the pulpit.  If preachers got on the side of science they'd just have to get creative, convince people that the Lord Almighty wanted them to choose to live now.  Emphasis being their choice not the Lord's.  Gerald said it would never happen, and that's why he felt hopeless about our future.

The earth underlined his words with a blinding downpour and punctuated his hopelessness with thunder. Cars flashed emergency lights or pulled over to the side of the road. We kept moving, and talking, the Honda a tiny world of its own. Long haul trucks sped past us, fearless and mighty above our puny vehicles.  Seizing the opportunity to gain time in their individual and corporate pursuits-the American way-they pounded us with highway surf. 

I love you, honey. Your ideas are good. Now let's see if we can change the world.