I knew the young men my parents were talking to were animated when I sat down with a round of beers at a table in Glasgow’s Merchant Square. Friendly and proud of her kids, my mother had told the two financial analysts that her son was a conservative. My dad had wisely disengaged while they interrogated her on all of their opinions and feelings, and now that I returned with the pints, it was my turn to be educated.
“How can you deny the deadly reality of global warming,” one of the guys asked, wheeling on me. “Florida is literally flooded and underwater.”
I blinked a few times. “What?”
“It’s all over the news!” he exclaimed.
The Sunshine State gets hot and swampy; it is indeed largely at sea level, but when I’d left Virginia just a day or two before, it had seemed intact. Could he be talking about the Everglades? A storm, maybe? As I sat there