Photograph Source: The White House – Public Domain

I was out taking my afternoon walk in mid-September, wearing only khakis, a shirt, and an undershirt, and instead of feeling chilly, I was working up a distinct sweat and being passed regularly by younger people in shorts and t-shirts. Yes, it was a mid-July-style day in the early fall and while that might have been possible anytime in my life, it certainly was anything but typical.

I’m already 82 years old, which means my time on this planet of ours is limited. Still, I worry. When I’m with my grandkids, I sometimes try to imagine what their world might be like years (even decades) after I’ve left the scene — and it scares the hell out of me. And believe me, I use that word, “hell,” advisedly, given the overheating of this planet that we’re already experiencing. After all, the August we just passed through was either the hottest month ever or tied for that honor and this summer in the United States, my very own country, was possibly the hottest in its history, or at least the last 132 years of record-keeping. Note, for instance, that the world’s rivers now seem to be slowly drying up. Phew! I’m already sweating and, worse yet, keep in mind that, given how we humans are broiling this planet, it’s just a start!

If, once upon a time, you had told me about this world of “ours” and “our” “President” (and yes, I do indeed think all three of those words should be in quotation marks here), I simply couldn’t have imagined it. (And I doubt anyone else could have either.) Once upon a time (again), it wouldn’t have even seemed like a bad joke. Back in the 1960s and early 1970s, during those Vietnam War years of horror and protest, bad as things might have appeared, I still couldn’t have imagined this — and........

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