Full disclosure: I love to eat meat. I was born
in Memphis, the barbecue capital of the Milky Way Galaxy. I worship
slow-cooked, hickory-smoked pig meat served on a bun with extra sauce
and coleslaw spooned on top.My carnivore’s lust goes beyond the DNA level. It’s in my soul. Even the
cruelty of factory farming doesn’t temper my desire, I’ll admit. Like
most Americans, I can somehow keep at bay all thoughts of what happened
to the meat prior to the plate.So why in the world am I a dedicated vegetarian? Why is meat, including
sumptuous pork, a complete stranger to my fork at home and away? The
answer is simple: I have an 11-year-old son whose future—like yours and
mine—is rapidly unraveling due to global warming. And what we put on
our plates can directly accelerate or decelerate the heating trend.




