Wednesday, February 2, 2011

It's called weather, Al

Algore, busy in his office. One cannot help but wonder how much CO2 was emitted to make all the paper he has scattered around his office.

You've all heard the saying "everyone always complains about the weather, but nobody does anything about it". Not our hero, Algore. Al has made doing something about the weather his own personal crusade. Notwithstanding his Oscars, Nobel prizes and myriad honorary degrees, Al has put his own personal life, including his marriage, on hold to save the rest of us from ourselves.

In a blog article relating to the recent large amounts of snow throughout the country, Al said: "As it turns out, the scientific community has been addressing this particular question for some time now and they say that increased heavy snowfalls are completely consistent with what they have been predicting as a consequence of man made global warming. In fact, scientists have been warning for at least two decades that global warming could make snowstorms more severe. Snow has two simple ingredients: cold and moisture. Warmer air collects moisture like a sponge until it hits a patch of cold air. When temperatures dip below freezing, a lot of moisture creates a lot of snow. A rise in global temperature can create all sorts of havoc, ranging from hotter dry spells to colder winters, along with increasingly violent storms, flooding, forest fires and loss of endangered species.”

I'm pretty slow on the uptake, but I finally tumbled to the fact that Al is not going to rest (nor let any of us rest) until the weather is perfect. In honor of that and the tremendous respect I have for the man, I post for your sing-along enjoyment, the following song tribute to Al for his tireless efforts. To be sung to the tune of "Camelot" (my profound apologies to Lerner and Loewe):

It's true! It's true! Algore has made it clear.
The climate must be perfect all the year.

decree was made by Algore long ago here:
July and August cannot be too hot.
And there's a legal limit to the snow here
In Al’s Camelot.

The winter is forbidden till December
And exits March the second on the dot.
By order, summer lingers through September
In Al’s Camelot.

Al's Camelot! Al's Camelot!
I know it sounds a bit bizarre,
But in Al’s Camelot, Al’s Camelot
That's how conditions are.

The rain may never fall till after sundown.
By eight, the morning fog must disappear.
In short, there's simply not
A more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering than here
In Al’s Camelot.

Al’s Camelot! Al’s Camelot!

I know it gives a person pause,
But in Al’s Camelot, Al’s Camelot
Those are the legal laws.

The snow may never slush upon the hillside.
By nine p.m. the moonlight must appear.
In short, there's simply not
A more congenial spot
For happily-ever-aftering 
than here... in Al’s... Camelot.


Bernice Gordon said...

Why the obsession with Al Gore. I forget all about him until I read your various posts and comments. Why does he get your goat?

Big Al said...

Mostly because demagogues should never be allowed to run around unopposed. If it would get everyone else to forget about him too, I'd promise to never write another line about him.