I don’t know if you’ve caught up with the latest news, but the planet is heating up.
Yes, this one, the one we’re on.
Some of us, I know, occasionally, live on other planets, but even those of us who do have to drop back into this one if we want a glass of water.
A lot of people poo-hoo and I quite enjoy that, because it takes me back to a time when poo-hooing was popular and an art form.
In this case I refer, of course, to a poo-hoo of climate change.
Well, I have only one thing to say to those folk, the poo-hooers: Take a look around you, buddy!
First thing you’ll notice is that there are more people than there were this time yesterday.
They are increasing by the minute and there is no better example than the inability to find a parking space on Rokeby Road outside your favourite shoe shop.
It can get worse.
My partner, Hildegard, said that when she went shopping in Holland recently there were so many people in the street that when she went to blow her nose, someone had beaten her to it.
Hildy was in the Land of Dykes for Christmas and it was the hottest winter on record.
Oh yes, minimums of -2 degrees Celsius and balmy days with maximums around 10 degrees.
It was disgraceful, Dutch folk throwing off their doonas in the middle of winter and walking in the streets.
Not only is global warming destroying climates, it’s causing the disintegration of cultures.
This brings me back to ours.
Everyday, I am reliably informed by a government department, thousands of Victorians and others lost and confused charge into this great state of ours looking for a place to stay, 24-hour shopping and oversized bananas.
It wasn’t enough for them to send us their kookaburras, rainbow lorikeets and tinned jam, now they have to send themselves?
A lot of them arrive in an exhausted state, in an exhausted state.
And I meant to say that twice, because, let’s face it, we are pretty tuckered.
It takes a lot of energy and resources to dig up what we have to dig up and ship it to where we have to ship it in order to keep this great nation off its knees.
And the arrivals are exhausted because of the walk from the border, where they had expected everything to be handed over, including a four-wheel drive with trailer and boat attached.
I don’t know about you but I don’t have a science degree, in fact, I failed chemistry, physics and geology, all on the same day, so don’t go asking me for the scientific facts.
But, I do know stuff.
And so do you.
Here’s a thing you can try tonight when you get home.
First, climb into bed on your own and notice the under-cover temperature. Then ask the rest of the family to join you, or even a few near neighbours.
To warm it up even more, engage in strenuous activities, eat fatty foods to encourage the production of certain gases, run a lawnmower over your carpet and build a small coal-burning power-station.
Yes, you’re right, in no time at all you can dump the doona. Why? Too hot. Now imagine millions of bodies just like your mob, all under a massive doona.
It’s no wonder we’re losing our cool.
If everybody on the planet did nothing, just stood still, or lay down on a quiet patch of soft grass and took shorter breaths, that might help, but it isn’t going to happen, even if the fat lady sings.
We’re not made like that. We’re more like lemmings than lemmings.
And so what is needed is some kind of action and I am calling on everyone to join me tomorrow in a march on climate change.
We’ll meet in St Georges Terrace, march due west up the hill to Kings Park, down Thomas Street, along Stirling Highway, turn right into Eric Street and cluster at North Cottesloe.
By then the planet should be warm enough for a swim followed by a long-black at a beach-side café, if we can find one above sea-level. (Better arrange for someone to drive your car there, so you can get home.)