We went to the climate-change strike on Friday the 20th. The kid and the granddog Sullivan came for the event, and Lizzy Fig went to the health spa for cats while we attended. The strike was just that, as advertised, and not at all a demonstration ala the 60-70s. Which was of course fine, their call, but quite different for me. The last time I was at a demonstration (when I got hit by a rock, but another story) we were marching across the U of Iowa campus shouting: Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today!

But today’s times are quite different, as we well know. There were quite a few speeches and only a very few chants, no marching. I was a wee bit disappointed in the format as it seemed to me that speeches about why something need be done were unnecessary. The crowd there already knew something should and must be done. Perhaps what might have been more powerful. That and more chants. Not only do I love chants, but crowds respond to chants, and a slogan is great for unification. It will come, I’m sure. At least the many gatherings across the world sent a message. Now for continued pressure and forward movements. It was at least inspiring to me with a remembrance that every little bit helps. And I’ve renewed my efforts to eliminate plastic from my life.

Town Square, downtown Cleveland

Meanwhile, at the health spa for cats, it wasn’t exactly a rapturous event.

Subsequent photos of Lizzy saying hi to me showed no movement. She was fine once I got her home, even in the car with me. She’s just too shy and timid for life out there.