Last week I bought a T–shirt made from organic cotton. I feel like a hippie. I found the shirt at the Life is Good store in Charleston. I don’t like supporting fads, but I needed a blue shirt. My current favorite came from the best bar on US soil, Schooner Wharf in Key West and is getting so translucent you can read a politician’s true motive through it.

Most T–shirts are ads for a particular place or company and offer little individual expression. The Life is Good folks aren’t any different. Whether it’s Folly Beach, Gulf Shores, Margaritaville, or Big Johnson, they are asking you to promote their brand instead of demonstrating your true self. And they charge 20 bucks for the privilege.

I spend a lot of time searching for unusual and authentic T–shirts, usually in vain. In this case, I was sick of looking around Charleston for something distinctive among the endless parade of Palmetto tree and crescent moon designs, and Southern Girl claims.

When I tried this particular shirt on, I liked the design but the fabric felt a little unusual. The clerk told me it was made from organic cotton. I asked what constituted organic. She looked at me with all the sanctimony of a Prius driver and informed me there were no chemicals used in the process. I wonder how they hydrated it.

Organic has become one of the greatest marketing ploys of our time. When the word is spoken, everyone gets all dreamy eyed as if the whole galaxy is instantly becoming a better place. It really means they use animal droppings for fertilizer rather than chemicals. I’m not sure what they spray on the boll weevils.

As we Earthlings struggle to become more conscientious of, and economical about the place we live without infringing on our way of life, we jump on anything that gives us hope without requiring effort. Sort of like fat people and the grapefruit diet. And we don’t mind paying extra for that privilege.

I realize it costs extra in some cases to use natural fertilizer, but I’m convinced the save the world companies are using good old fashioned guilt to get us to pay more in order to be Green.

Evidently, processing costs are higher when you don’t have to build a fence, cut the trees, or pay for fertilizer. Organic, free range, shade grown vegetables sound yummy, but aren’t there things we can do to support Earth Day that conserve financial resources?

I am down with saving the planet but as is usually the case with us Americans, we get on the bandwagon of a movement without thinking things through. Chemicals can eventually seep into drinking water but so can natural fertilizer. Which sounds worse to you, benzyl chloride or fecal matter?

The really hard conservation choices require more than celebrating every April, separating plastic from cardboard, and buying carbon forgiveness. No one talks about any of those.

Besides, that lady didn’t tell me how they kill boll weevils. Crop duster pilots are among the last great characters on the planet. I’d rather support them than selfrighteous sales clerks.