Yesterday as I shoveled snow off my driveway, I thought how these winter storms undercut the message of global warning. Sure, I can understand the intellectual explanation of what climate change means but my freezing hands hit closer to home than the science. This is the same as my Mother no longer liking Tom Cruise after he played slimy male chauvinist Frank T.J. Mackey in the movie Magnolia. But, Mom, he won a Golden Globe for the role. He is an actor proving his range. Does not matter. My friend Michelle could not look at Ben Affleck the same way after he played Nick Dunne in Gone Girl. Two dozen years ago, my Dad warned me about buying a home on a side street halfway up a steep hill that turns into a downhill ice rink in wintry weather. Should I let my wife’s decision diminish my environmental passion? Sure. Every time I am snowed in and look down from my deck to see cars driving along on cleared off arterials at lower elevations, I remind myself to think about trading in our house for one higher on the hill so we will be in a cooler place when global warming hits. My 23 and Me ancestry test identified me as descended from an ancient tribe with the “part of the problem” gene. I can explain on a test why airplanes fly, boats float, and the world is round. But deep down inside, something gnaws at me that those things are not possible.