Green Green Revolution

I'M HARDLY a tree-hugger. I use copious paper towels in the kitchen (remember the anal-retentive chef?) and eat plenty of meat, which we all know takes 10x more kilijoules to raise than we chew out of it. But somewhere between An Inconvenient Truth and a meandering article in Harper's about the gazillions of overboard Chinese rubber-duckies that are now disintegrating their way into the food chain, I've slowly gotten religion in this realm.

Again, I'm no envirosaint. I still use an electric heater in the bathroom (and probably always will, since I'm a huge wuss when it drops below, say, 69 in the house). But I have taken a few steps to reduce my greenhouse gaseousness. So, not to tout my eco-righteousness, but in the spirit of sharing some nifty ideas, here are some of the very sexy products I've discovered to clean up my carbon footprint:

I've tried a couple "ecological" product lines--such as Seventh Generation, whose dishwasher detergent leaves griffy detritus atop your glasses--but a brand that actually does work is Ecover. The company is so righteous they have 10,000 feet of grass on their roof. They make all kinds of good stuff, including toilet-bowl cleaner that doesn't smell like you've just fumigated your house. It's probably hard to come by outside of say, socialist countries like California; but we're fortunate to have an awesome locally-owned hardware store that started carrying it.

A brand that's more available in the 'burbs is Method. They sell it at Targét, so you know it's endorsed by upper-middle-America. Their Tub & Tile Spray, is an excellent, non-noxious alternative to the the Scrubbing Bubbles. And their grapefruit-scented dish liquid smells good enough to have with breakfast.

As you've probably read (or heard fukcing Nancy Grace rant about), San Francisco recently banned plastic grocery bags. (They must be corn-based now: go Heartland!). This should have little impact on us, since we were already sick of schlepping our used bags back to Safeway for recycling (walking across town with mounds of them, you look like a homeless person), so we started carrying these nifty fold-up bags from the Container Store. (Disclaimer: we have an "in" there.) You can carry them in your coat pocket or man-purse; they're super-strong but fold up into an itty-bitty pouch. Plus, using them you feel so bloody European, you'll want to don your Ecco sandals and take the tram home.

And of course, being "Transit-First" citizens, we remain members of our local co-op, City CarShare. Although, once you have access to a car 24/7, you discover how infrequently you actually need one. We only use it for the odd trip to the South Bay (rare) or Wine Country (less rare). I also recently joined FlexCar for their daily rate ($65), though haven't tried it yet. ... If you're not a Bay Arean, Flex has cars in D.C., Philly, Seattle, Atlanta--even Pittsburgh!--while ZipCar is in Chicago, Boston, Vancouver, London, and Minneapolis (in case you want to hook up with Sen. Craig).

BUT BY FAR the funnest eco product we've encountered is our home seltzer maker. We drink bubbly water like, um, water; but with our car-free

lifestyle it had become a special treat. (Try dragging 2-liter bottles home en masse from the Safeway on foot.) So one day I thought: "Hey, in the old movies they always had a snazzy seltzer gun:  somebody's got to be selling those in this retro age." And indeed, a few clicks on the Interweb later, and I'd identified the perfect invention: the Soda-Club machine.  Here's how it works:

Step 1. Cut a hole in a box.
Step 2. Put your junk in that...oh wait, wrong device.

Although I could spend lots of time describing how it works, it's more fun to watch their groovy video. But while they refer to the sound it makes as a "loud buzz," in truth it sounds more like a super-loud fart. We've found that 3 farts delivers a delightfully fizzy beverage.

Or is that over-sharing?