Honk for Global Warming

Yesterday I was walking on Main St in in Hyannis. My wife was engaged in serious (and serial) shopping, so I had some time to kill. I was looking for an ATM when I approached an intersection with some young people stationed on all 4 corners.

The kids looked to be college age and were animatedly displaying large poster board signs that said, "Honk for Global Warming. No day at the Beach!" and, "It's getting Hot out here!" Some cars were dutifully tooting their horns. But some drivers passed by with frowns and extended middle fingers.

"What's this about?" I asked one young fellow who seemed to be having a good time.
"Just trying to save the planet, mate" he beamed superciliously.  I ignored the fact that his accent betrayed the fact that he was in the wrong hemisphere as well as latitude. I suppressed the urge to tell him to go back home and stop wasting our valuable New England-climate-balancing oxygen.

"Please feel free to make a honking sound, if you like." he smiled with the genuine smile of an evangelist who is certain that they are bringing the good news to the godless heathens.

I frowned. "I am more concerned with noise pollution than I am with global warming. Besides how does this help? Your signs don't make it clear whether you are for or against global warming. Besides not all scientists agree on the matter."

He just looked at me like I was being intentionally obtuse. "The UN says it's a problem, mate. You can't find a more neutral organization."
I laughed, "The UN is the most corrupt organization on the planet! What about the 'Oil for food' program? What about all the genocide that they are ignoring? They are corrupt and useless!"
"I haven't heard anything about those things."

Just then a maroon Hummer came through the intersection, honking his horn.
The college kids started booing and giving him a thumbs down sign. The driver, a big tanned dude wearing only a bathing suit screeched to a stop and jumped out. The look in his eyes showed that he had consumed several adult beverages.
"Ok!" he yelled in a whiskey voice, glaring at the sign holders "Who wants to get their ass kicked for global warming?"
The demonstrators went suddenly silent, lowered their signs and looked around to see if anyone was volunteering. No one was.
The Hummer driver laughed at the pall that he had thrown on the party, jumped back in his car and peeled-out.

I almost felt sorry for the college kids. But maybe they could identify with the missionaries who preached God to the cannibals and then were invited to dinner.

I found an ATM and got a wad of cash. As I walked further up the street, I noticed the Hummer parked in front of the British Beer Company. Next to the bar at Baxter's, BBC is is my favorite watering hole in Hyannis, so I decided to go in. Sure enough, the driver was at the bar, now wearing a gaudy Hawaiian shirt, swigging a large stein of dark ale. I walked over and asked him if he was the one who had just yelled at the global warming kids.
"Yeah! That was me. Why?" he grinned, eyes unfocused.
"I just wanted to buy you a beer," I said.