Love in the Time of Climate Change by Brian Adams

Author:Brian Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Green Writers Press
Published: 2013-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

November

23

AFTER WHAT SEEMED LIKE AN ETERNITY, the first Tuesday of November, Election Day 2012, finally arrived. If the presidential drama had continued even a day longer, I would have lost it. After one more “Vote or else!” soapbox rant to my classes, I voted at the high school and then staggered home, anxious as hell, and wolfed down way too much pizza. It was leftover from the weekend and the pepperoni had a greenish tinge which I didn’t happen to notice till the very last piece.

Truth be told, I hadn’t felt particularly well for weeks. The possibility of a Republican victory, of Mitt Romney becoming the next president of the United States, was way too much to stomach. It seemed inconceivable that anyone with a shred of a brain would contemplate voting for Mister Moneybags from the Monopoly Game, the rancid face of capitalism gone sour, a man whose vision of the future was so 1950-ish. But the scary thing, what made my intestines twist themselves into tangled knots, was that even with the voting public on our side, electoral chicaery in several swing states combined with an unfavorable ruling from the Supreme Court could certainly throw the election to the Republicans, just as it had with George W. Bush. Anything was possible.

Jesse had gone out to dinner with Sarah, his sister Clara, and her sister’s boyfriend, a getting-to-know-you introduction to Sarah. I was already on the second joint when they waltzed in the door, elated and energized, Sarah and his sister arm in arm.

“It’s in the bag!” Jesse shouted. “Exit polling looks fab. Mitt’s going down! Any news in the last few minutes?”

I was happy to see that dinner had gone well.

They all sat down, transfixed, in front of the blaring TV. Jesse grabbed the remote and immediately began obsessively coverage surfing.

“That son-of-a-bitch Romney!” Clara said, wrestling the remote from her brother. “That prick. That fucking asshole! Sorry about my language, sweetie.” She gave Sarah a peck on the cheek. “Something you’re just going to have to get used to.”

Jesse’s sister had an even filthier mouth than her brother. She was three years older and had been a marvelous role model for him. She had bought him his first bag of grass when he was sixteen, got the sister of one of her close friends to deflower him a year later, forged him a fake ID when he was nineteen, and was a consistently badass influence on him.

Clara was a second-grade teacher in Glenfield and we loved her dearly.

As much of a motormouth as she was, her boyfriend was solemn and silent. He was a prominent attorney in town and seemed like a nice guy, but it was sort of difficult to tell. When the bunch of us got together it was hard as hell for him to get a word in edgewise. And now with Sarah, who could chat it up with the best of them, in the picture, he seemed destined for silence.

Clara hated Romney even more than we did, if that was humanly possible.

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