Whilst you all have been frolicking along the shores and diving in the sea, as is your way, I, Dr. Abalone, have been scouring the TVsphere for the perfect message for the youngsters of my favorite society, the Western Society of Naturalists. After extensive research I unleash upon you a slew of films so gripping, they win the piscatorial prize for perfection. Because only those that truly love the sea and live daily at its mercy, such as yourselves, can transcend self into a passion for protecting the planet .
Everyone’s trying to set a new big wave record by pushing the physical limits of wave riding. It’s extremely dangerous, and the world is watching to see who will set the next record, currently at 80 feet. It’s a sport where you can make a career out of a single giant wave. Many have tried. But many more have failed.
Listen to the planet, the scientists, and the children, and you will know a warmer world is happening, with all its associated consequences. Now we need action to stop the bleeding and future consequences of our carbon-based technology. We can do it, we are already are, but not fast enough to make a difference.
Home. We all know the meaning. But what does it really mean? To me, growing up in a nomadic Navy family with 21 different houses, home was where my mother made it. But when I left for college, I sought a new home, one of my own. But it eluded me until I had my own family. Ah, this is it. So, I thought.
My career, and my broad interests in science, were inspired by America’s race to the moon. Between 1961 and 1972, I grew up watching the space missions of Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo. The astronauts were my heroes and I loved the technology. As a kid, those were magical times and they taught me to believe in the impossible. I’ve been a scientist now for 40 years and it’s hard to underestimate the power of those heady days to inspire my career trajectory.
Walking into the hemodialysis dialysis clinic for the first time in 26 years was surreal. Opening the door I was met with a familiar strong chemical smell. Sitting under bright fluorescents lights I saw a tattered sign on the wall: Every Day Counts. A reminder that my life hangs by a fragile technological thread.