In the realm of being kind to the planet, we’ve noticed an interesting trend among our friends. We call it the "all or nothing" attitude. There are the intense, environmental warriors (don’t get us wrong – these women are true heroines!), and there’s that other group of do-nothings. Where is it written that in order for our actions to “count,” we have to go all the way? That’s just not the case, and unfortunately that sort of thinking gets us only one thing– global warming! There are very few people who can entirely embrace a green way of life. No one can do everything. But, that said, no one can afford to do nothing, either. So we say, choose something– one thing– that you can do to make this planet a better place. (Hey, if you can do 2, 3 or 4 things, so much the better, but at least start with ONE!). What’s YOUR one thing going to be?!

Before (photo courtsey NRDC)           After

MY TUSH WILL NEVER BE THE SAME

- Suzy Shuster, Contributing Writer

It all started eleven months ago at my very first meeting of the Natural Resources Defense Council Executive Council. I was a new member, coming in as virtual earth loving newbie, wide-eyed and excited at the prospect of learning new ways to conserve the planet’s resources and help put a brake on global warming. Who knew I was just as ugly of an offender as all of those who turned a blind, disconnected eye to the crisis that is climate change!?

The lecture that day was on biogems, unique natural structures on earth such as wildlife reserves, gemological troves, waterways, and forests. In front of us were placed giant photos of thousand-year-old California Redwood logs, all with red painted dollar signs slapped on the trunks (see photo) like scarlet letters. Believe it or not, these gorgeous trees were destined to become…Toilet paper! Quilted Northern, Charmin, or whatever triple-ply paper meets your fancy. It had never even OCCURRED to me that the paper I mindlessly wadded up (albeit wholly necessary) for a split second of usage was derived from stunning forestry perhaps impossible to replace. We’re talking a millennium, wasted here in moments, whereas manufacturers could so very easily make toilet paper from post consumer paper products, lovingly fluffed and stamped with some cute little cherub or what-have-you. It seemed so easy, and so simple. Suddenly the years of quality tissue piled up before my eyes, and I headed to Whole Foods on the way home, never to err the ways of Charmin again.

Let me tell you, Charmin it ain't.

Ok, so no one will be confusing my post consumer TP for cashmere. There will be no commercials of smiling grandmothers holding it lovingly to their cheeks, nor giggling mascots begging to be squeezed. Truth be told, recycled TP removes the “glamour” that Madison Avenue ad firms promise from using the loo. But then again, when was life meant to be played out in the ladies room? I mean, we all know it’s not a party in there.

My husband, on the other hand, didn’t quite share my newfound excitement in finding one little way to go green.

In fact, I believe his reaction was, “Are you kidding me?”

Of course, the easiest response was to offer him to take over shopping for household supplies, should he decide he couldn’t make one small sacrifice– his tush– for the sake of Mother Earth. And what scares a man more than the possibility of assuming responsibility for mundane shopping?

The answer? Maybe a lifelong submission to the question, “Does this make me look fat?”

The thing is, I can never look at toilet paper in quite the same way. Wherever I go, I seem to notice the ply, and sadly, from time to time, I find myself nostalgically admiring its fluffy softness. A few weeks after our conversion, Rich and I were at a dinner party at our good friend’s home. I excused myself to use the loo, and there it was, the mother of all TP’s, Charmin Quadruple Ply Ultra. A TP so plush a family of four could live between the layers for days.This stuff practically did the dishes. I stared at it longingly, but then suddenly, all I could see were those perfectly pristine trees lying there, raped by loggers, their proud heritage about to be reduced to insignificant byproducts. I thought to myself, why? when there are so many alternatives to making this completely insignificant product? What does it say when society decides luxury is squeezably soft? What. A. Waste. It was a moral victory in my mind as I made my way back to the table (yes, with washed hands,) and that was that. I had crossed to the green side for good.