I-think-I’m-turning-green-I-think-I’m-turning-green-I-really-think-so.

Yesterday it hit me: I might be going green. Here’s the story: With husband and sons otherwise engaged, I was on my own for church yesterday. I was barely on time for church, which meant I had to park in a galaxy far, far away, behind the very beautiful mall that used to be the historic Naval Training Center in San Diego — all stucco and tile roofs and long, arrow-straight breezeways of hacienda-style arches marching away into the distance.

Important to this story is the following fact: I carry this ridiculously large NIV Study Bible. It was my first Bible, given to me by my mother-in-law who thought I should have the large-print edition at age 28. This tome is three inches thick and 2,460 pages long, not counting the maps, concordances, and the all-important Table of Weights and Measures (for one never knows when one might need to know the bushel-capacity of an ephah) (which is 3/5 of a bushel, in case you’re interested.)

Despite its inconvenient heft, I can’t part with my study Bible; it contains too many of my scribblings. So I had this Bible in tow when I had my going-green ephiphany….

After church, I decided to cross the street and do a little grocery shopping at this market chain we have here called Trader Joe’s. All kinds of people shop at Trader Joe’s, especially lots of green people. It’s not quite a natural-foods market and not quite an international market, but has lots of unusual and interesting offerings, plus dairy products at about half of what big chains charge. Being without husband, children, or deadlines, I was able to meander through the store collecting Jarlsberg, romaine hearts, and spicy sushi….peppered salami and frozen mango…a bouquet of dark pink spray roses…a gor-met Philly cheesesteak pizza that I planned to enjoy later while watching the Chargers-Texans game.

It was not until I reached the checkstand that I realized my mistake: How was I going to get all my purchases, which now half-filled the cart — plus my encyclopedic study Bible — back to my vehicle, which was still parked in a galaxy far, far away?

Lo, hanging on the wall near the checkstand, the solution presented itself. Being a green-frequented store, Trader Joe’s sells these canvas and plastic-coated shopping bags for environmentally conscious consumers who wish to reduce their footprint in the local landfill. The bags cost only $1.99 each and are available in attractive island prints. I eyeballed them.

“The green and blue ones are wonderful,” the chirpy checker confided. “They have big round bottoms and hold a lot!”

Sold. Much more appealing than wheeling a shopping cart around historic fountains and through a quarter-mile of hacienda-style arches.

Five minutes later, I was lugging groceries in two environmentally correct bags across the grounds where my husband once attended Navy boot camp, my Bible and an errant loaf of ciabatta bread banging against my leg in a brown paper sack. I had to stop a couple of times to switch the Bible bag to the other hand. Very heavy. Finally, I reached the far galaxy and deposited my new green bags into the rear compartment of my gas-guzzling SUV.

That’s when it hit me: I’m going green! What you don’t know is that about six months ago I decided that when my SUV lease expires, I’m going to buy a Prius. Not only that, but every night before my husband and I retire, I fill for us two large mugs with ice water — but before that, I use any water left over from the night before to water the houseplants. You see? I’m conserving resources. I’m nearly chartreuse!

Will I next be joining the Sierra Club? I don’t think so. You see, my motivation is not correct.

While I believe in conservation, my recent verdancy arises from convenience and economics, not from the Gaian fires of searing social conscience. I do not think the green “in” crowd (who, I just read, has now found greener ways of having sex) will let me join. Alas, I suspect I am not actually green . . . only practically green. Does that make me not green at all?