Because You Never Asked

     (The next 3 essays were written in 1997 and can be considered a series that should be read together. They are: "The Weather", "The Weather Where I live", and "The Weather Where I Vacation". I put them up on my website in November of 2005, near the conclusion of an unprecedented hurricane season that has exhausted our alphabet in trying to name them all and destroyed one of America's great cities to such an extent, it may never exist as we knew it before.

     As for the city where I live, it's relevant to state the following: I've sat down to write this introduction to these essays just 2 weeks after hurricane Wilma left 2/3 of the city's homes inundated by 2 to 5 feet of salt water, caused by a storm surge that had never been seen here before. In addition to the still unknown structural loss of real estate, countless tons of personal property, including thousands of cars, have been rendered useless. It's no lie to say that thousands of people have lost everything. A great tragedy has happened here, in spite of the fact that our multi-billion dollar, global economy news industry, for reasons I don't want to get into here, has almost completely missed it.

     The business of tourism, which is the lifeline of my city, has already begun to come back. This is a good news-bad news scenario; yes, people are working and earning much needed money, but they are forced to do it amidst the wreckage of their personal lives. Tough times indeed. Unlike our BS-ing media conglomerates, I will not glorify this effort with the "bravery" and "spirit" of the people who live here, a concept I generally begin to puke up when the fakirs and shamans that force feed us the "news" begin pontificating (see essay "September 11^th"). The people here, like any people, are coping as best they can with the misfortune the roulette wheel of life has beset upon them. They want to get on with their lives. They want to move ahead. They'll do what they have to do. Like anyone else.

     A storm surge such as the one that crossed my city is not completely unexpected, and cannot be blamed directly on global warming. Many factors must line up perfectly for such an occurrence to happen. But! . when the frequency of storms that can lead to such a catastrophe begin to increase in a way that can be described as "geometrically", the law of averages starts to come into effect. The more a pitcher throws bean balls, the more likely it is that he'll hit a batter in the head.

     I will emphasize this idea with the following data: I've lived in this city since 1972. The first storm to seriously effect my stay here finally arrived in 1998 with the name of hurricane George. The old timers say the last storm before that occurred in 1960 in the person of hurricane Donna. In this storm season of 2005, four named storms have seriously effected the city, culminating in the disaster called Wilma. In 2004, 4 huge tropical systems cris-crossed the state of Florida, some of which effected this area. In the early 90's, hurricane Andrew became the bench mark for atmospheric ferocity in south Florida. It was a tremendously powerful wind storm, reaching winds of over 200 miles per hour. It's eye passed 60 miles to the north of my city. The night this happened

was a beautiful, star-strewn evening here. The storms we are currently discussing can be 400 miles or more across, and carry much more water. I am not here to make any commentary on the global warming issue. I'm just stating some facts. I'll let you chew on them.

     OK, here is the first essay in the series. I remind the reader it was written in 1997.)

     With environmental concerns claiming a greater part of our attention as the "global economy" claims an ever growing part of the environment, the weather, which used to be something we only talked about, has become a focal point of political-economic debate: are we mere mortals, going about our daily chores in the "global economy", which means the constantly escalating production of a seemingly infinite variety of things deemed necessary for the contemporary concept of "happiness", actually having an effect on the weather? Is it getting warmer, dryer? Are ice caps melting, deserts spreading out? Will there be more hurricanes, floods and droughts? Will ozone shrinkage cause extensive outbreaks of mumps, shingles, and liver spots? Are such calamities, once considered acts of God, the result of our own stubborn stupidity?

     As my annual stay by the Roman Sea comes to a close, so does my yearly cycle of weather experience. Over the last 10 years, with the minor allowance for some normal deviation, I have spent almost all my time in 2 places: my tropical home at the southeastern extremity of the North American continent; and the approximately 2 months of time, taking up parts of May, June and July, with which I vary my environment in the Mediterranean climate of insular Spain. I am intimately familiar with the climatic conditions of both places, each of which have shown, at least for this year, significant digressions from what must be considered the norm.

     This digression has been so pronounced, that I am sitting here writing this essay.

     It is not my purpose to corroborate, second, or provide more evidence leading to the belief that human endeavor is having an effect on the weather. I am not a scientist, have not studied this possibility, and would be illegally crossing any intellectual border without a passport by offering such an opinion. What can be said is that the current productive-material "necessities" of "Santa Monica Man" does pollute. In the modern world, clean air and pristine water are just another commercial commodity sold to us in vacation brochures, something we see as tourists because they generally don't exist where most of us live.

     Whether our productive-cultural habits are changing the weather, putting us into some kind of survival mode risk, is not the most relevant thing for me. Even if the experts could conclusively prove that these habits do not adversely effect us or the weather, I would gladly trade the bulk of all the Nike-Nissan-Armani production for a more beautiful world to live in. I don't say this from a purely personal point of view, but more because all of us, as a species, could emotionally profit from such an attitude. It is my passionately desired hope in writing these essays that this attitude could be more fully understood.

     With this in mind, this series of essays is only meant to leave a record of the strange climatic happenings of my yearly cycle of weather encompassing the time frame between July of '96 and July of '97.

     Which brings me to the essay "The Weather Where I Live".

     Relevant Material: "For people like you or I, it's enough if we at least try to contribute our little grain of sand in order to arrive at something noble and sincere." From the novel "The Remains of the Day", by the Englishman of Japanese descent, Kazuo Ishiguro.