I was born in Santa Monica in 1944 (my mom was born here, too — 1904), and I've never experienced how hot at night it was the other night. I mean, lying in bed sweating at 11 p.m. because it's still 80 degrees is not Southern California weather.

Feeling the smog burn in my chest in high school … now that's Southern Cal weather. I'm old enough to have seen a tremendous improvement in our air quality, although lately there is an ominous push to put the burn back in my lungs.

Animals are feeling the heat, too. In the L.A. Times (7/18/18), same section as Steve Lopez's climate change piece, there was an article about “a heavily panting black bear” who took a dip in a Granada Hills pool.

I don't think Jim Morrison (singer in my old band) meant his lyric “5 to 1” to mean record-setting hot days outnumbering record-setting lows, as stated in the Lopez column. He meant by 1975 the number of people under 25 would outnumber the people over by 5 to 1.

And at that point, the young people would take over. You see, the young people hold the spark for the future, and if the old people want to act like elders, then they would listen to, honor and respect that spark. People talk about giving our children and grandchildren a better future but live like all that matters is what is happening now.

The first peoples of this land knew this point well. They said leaders should act for seven generations down the road. The “elders” of today know more history, and should have learned from it. Lots of them have conveniently forgotten that we stopped the Vietnam War — can we stop global warming?

I certainly am over 25, but now I know why I drive a poor man's Tesla (Bolt). First of all, though I could afford a $100K car, I don't want to drive it to the market and possibly scratch it. Second, and most important, I want to have no hand in the matter of our “stable genius” leader bombing Iran or Venezuela for oil, because there is nothing coming out of my tailpipe. Gosh, I actually worry about the planet I am leaving to future generations.

LA Weekly