When I was very young, maybe around 4 or 5 years old, I would get angry with my mother and go out and sit in the street in front of our home. I might have been the first climate protester. My mother would come outside to pull me out of the street. I was too young to understand that sitting in the street was a stupid thing to do. Well, actually, maybe I did. I never once considered turning around and going back out into the street after my mother intervened. I had gotten her attention and I was good to go.
The problem with modern-day climate protesters is that no one cares enough about them that anyone, except angry drivers, would pull them out of the street. Once they have been pulled off the street, they get up and resume their spot in the roadway. I find myself asking, “Where are their mothers?” Would someone please love them enough to stop them from doing stupid things?
Sure, I want to breathe fresh air, but not from beneath the undercarriage of a passing motor vehicle.