I hate summer now.

Formerly the season of fun and sun, it is now a time of heat and smoke and death. We all need to make do with less.

Summer is fun and sun. It is relaxing. Adventure. Romance.

Summer is a Beach Boys song. A pool party. Cruisin’ in a convertible.

Summer is watching the sunset at 9 pm from a lake house. Eating hot dogs at a baseball game. A slip-n-slide.

Or so we idealize. Or so we thought. But now:

Summer is heat. Summer is smoke. Summer is death.

And so it will be for our children. And their great-grandchildren. And so on.

Because we humans are choosing to be the agents for that heat. And smoke. And death.

And not just human deaths. We can call that tragic. But our language lacks the words to describe the crime against existence we humans are committing against species we are knowingly forcing into extinction.

Looking back, I’ve had a mixed relationship with summer. In my youth, it was good. No school, all play. We were blessed to have a backyard pool, the perfect escape from the routine of 100-degree days. Typical for California’s Central Valley. Hot was normal.

But my teen years did not like summer. I was socially awkward. The end of the school year brought the end of social connection. Yes, I did have a few friends. But for me, summer was a three-month vacation from the sight of girls. And when you’re a straight teen boy, that is not a fun vacation.

That phase didn’t last. I came back to summer. Inner-tubing on the river. Giants baseball games. Hiking in the backcountry. Softball games on the Mall. Road trips with my wife.

And later, the incomparable joy of watching my children experience the same pleasures of summer that I once did.

But all that is in the past now.

Today, when I step out my front door, I don’t just feel heat, I feel the future.  I don’t just smell smoke, I smell death.

In my youth, air conditioning was an intrinsic pleasure in itself. Coming inside to escape the searing heat was a happy relief. Today, my body still feels good when I do this. But my mind experiences guilt. It knows that the mechanism that cools air expends energy, energy created with emissions that make global heating worse. It’s a cycle that neither the planet nor my thoughts can escape.

Comedian Jake Johannsen had this joke in the 1990s. Playing a self-deprecating ignoramus, he complained that his apartment was too hot, so he bought a bunch of refrigerators and left the doors open. When the apartment became too cool, he turned on a stack of hair dryers to warm it up.

I can’t think of a better metaphor for humans’ stupidity on climate.

Yes, I get angry at the climate-deniers and science-rejecters who think climate change is a hoax. And at the lawmakers who block common sense policies to reduce reliance on emission-heavy power sources. And at the politicians who weaponize the issue like it’s a game.

But I get angry at liberals too. The ones who blame politicians and corporations for not doing enough to fight climate change (which is correct), but also drive an SUV, take long-haul flights to vacations overseas, and order Door-Dash and Amazon deliveries routinely. They cocoon themselves in their self-righteousness to believe the right thing but refuse to make the slightest self-sacrifice from a lifestyle they think they deserve. It’s not helping.

The best (and only) way to make politicians and corporations change their behavior is to force them through our own individual choices. By choosing to do and buy less.

I am far from perfect. But I’m trying. I gave up meat and dairy. I order online only a handful of times a year. I bought an electric vehicle. I decline vacations that require air travel. I try to reuse and repurpose as much as possible. But I am inescapably a contributor to the problem. And so are you.

The day I write this, outside is not too bad. Temperatures won’t quite reach 90. But I don’t want to go outside. I might, but I won’t enjoy it. Summer heat is depressing, foreboding. Instead I’ll say inside in the air conditioning. Which is also depressing, foreboding.  

Maybe I’ll think about moving somewhere like northern Manitoba where summers aren’t so hot. Not so hot yet. But there’s a lot of trees up there to burn. Sigh.

I hate summer. I can’t wait for it to be over. But it will return. Only hotter. And smokier.

Happy summer everybody!