Now I know The Thin Green Line should be writing about more serious things, things like Obama's stimulus package and the green initiatives it contains.


And we'll get to it, we promise. Our army of financial analysts is going over the figures as you read this.


But in the meantime, let's face it; sometimes, you just can't resist the low-hanging fruit and by that I mean a story about toilet paper.


Infantile? Yes.


Sophomoric? You bet.


But we here at The Thin Green Line have the raw guts to stand up and say what needs to be said about soft and puffy toilet paper. It stinks! (And we mean before you use it, not after, although, well, it stinks then too.)





Hey, take it easy, don't get your knickers in a twist, even the staid grey lady, The New York Times, had fun with this article. After all, some newsroom jokester succumbed to temptation as well and put Mr. Whipple in the headline. We would never sink so low.


All joking aside, this is a pretty sad commentary on us, that a nation that likes to brag its people are the toughest on the global block, is populated with such pampered milksops that we need ultra soft TP to clean our bums.


Here's the straight poop, toilet paper, more than anything else, can most easily be made from recycled paper. In Europe, this kind of TP makes up 20 percent of the market, although it should be more at least they're trying people.


Here in the U.S.? That percentage of the market is a paltry 2 percent. That's pathetic folks and makes us flush with indignation.


The reason this is important is it takes trees to make TP soft. "Millions of trees harvested in North America and in Latin American countries, including some percentage of trees from rare old-growth forests in Canada," just for a few moments passing comfort for our sensitive nether regions.


Americans use an average of 23.6 rolls per capita a year, that's 23 opportunities a year to help create a market for all that paper we're starting to recycle. And folks, those jobs will stay here in the U.S.


According to the Times, "25 percent to 50 percent of the pulp used to make toilet paper in this country comes from tree farms in South America and the United States. The rest, environmental groups say, comes mostly from old, second-growth forests that serve as important absorbers of carbon dioxide, the main heat-trapping gas linked to global warming. In addition, some of the pulp comes from the last virgin North American forests."


Do we really want to destroy something so valuable, and trash our planet for something so trivial? Talk about not giving a crap!


Marcal, a brand easily found on the shelves of your local grocer, makes all its TP from recycled fiber, although it doesn't make as much noise about it as it probably should.


And if you're really hung up on having "premium" toilet paper, you can always buy some from places like Seventh Generation that charge more.


But there's hope in despair. As the economy tanks, sales of "premium" toilet paper are down.


And let's think about that phrase for a moment people. "Premium toilet paper" should be considered a premium oxymoron.


Why in the world do we need something to be "premium" when we immediately flush it down the toilet never to be used (or enjoyed) again? Doing so, in my opinion, makes someone a real ass.


OK, we're done with the puns now.


Sorry to be so cheeky.


Ooops, OK, now we're really done.

It is usually about this time of year, that our old house is most filled with visitors and this year was no exception.

One set trekked up from Florida and made a welcome Pottstown stop-over on their way to see family in New York.

The others, members of my family, came down from New York to spend Christmas.

And it is at times like this (Christmas and visitors) that I think a lot about George Bailey, the unwilling hero of "It's a Wonderful Life."

A recent piece in The New York Times mocked the movie, arguing that it was not an inspiration but a dark morality tale about abandoning your hopes and dreams and that Bedford Falls would have been better off as Pottersville.

I won't address the merits of this argument (as that is not what this blog is about) other than to say I was not introduced to this movie until I was an adult and went right out and bought a copy. (I confess to regularly misting up when the whole town gets together to bail George out. That's the kind of bailout I can get behind.)

No, what brings George Bailey to mind is the way the nob at the bottom of the banister of his old house keeps coming off in his hand, causing him to curse the old lurking hulk of a house.

While the love/hate relationship I have with my house, built in 1916, is more complicated than this, I certainly understand the impulse, and even more so when we have guests.

Those who wish to shower must be taught how to adjust the hot and cold water to ensure the flow is slow enough so as not to outpace our oil-burning furnace which heats our water all year long through the winter/summer hook-up.

And, when my step-mother is in the house, a woman whose body-fat ratios may well approach negative numbers, we must wrestle with how high to turn the thermostat, this in a year in which we managed to lock-in our oil price when it was the highest in human history, just before it went through the basement floor.

As a result of which, This article in The New York Times caught this George Bailey's eye.

Were we to abandon our old house, impossible to do with our love of the vintage hardwood floors and built-in cabinetry, we might consider the kind of house featured in this article.

It is called a "passive house" and it makes use of free heat.

Much of the heat comes from two free sources, the sun and our own body heat. That, combined with heat generated by the appliances, provides much of the heat necessary in a house hermetically sealed against drafts and heat loss.

(Certainly, a draft-less house would have been welcomed as my friend and I sat in the breakfast nook one night and played cards in sweaters and fleeces, the cards moving every time the wind kicked up.)

The houses are very popular in Germany and their popularity has driven the price differential between "passive houses" and conventional houses down to 5 to 7 percent.

Because those necessary components are not yet commonplace in the U.S., the price differential is significantly higher here.

However, the more popular the idea becomes, the more the price of the two housing types will converge here as well. The idea of a house that requires no oil, gas, coal or electricity to heat will certainly be attractice once the price of oil goes back up, as it inevitably will.

And the environment we all share will benefit as well.

For more information, visit The Passive House Institute Web site.