Do you live your politics? Do your daily actions reflect your deeply held beliefs to the extent that you can be called a positive role model for like-minded thinkers?

I want world governments to work on the problem of global warming. In the meantime, I travel in airplanes, drive cars, heat and cool my house and maintain a lawn. Sure, the car is a hybrid, the mower is battery-operated and the new boiler is highly efficient, but I’m still doing some harm.

The frustration of trying to do the right thing plays out comically in the summer. Our lawnmower’s battery dies before we can get to the entire yard, so we cut it in sections. Can’t fault the neighborhood for thinking we’re sending coded messages to space aliens via the lawn’s geometric patterns. Then it rains, and we fall behind. Soon, we have a pasture. At that point, I borrow the neighbor’s gas-powered mower to catch up.

It isn’t easy being green, but it’s much harder being a purist.

You’ve been asked to a movie but must decline because it stars a known liberal or conservative or person with questionable lifestyle choices. Your grandmother wants a ride to the big box store, but you find a way out because of its labor policies. You vote against school levies because the teachers belong to unions. You need new tires but avoid those shops owned by a conservative. Or, you buy them there because he is a good Christian. You want a newspaper, but it endorsed that Democrat in 1992.

My position on this is a convenient one, yet I’m confident it’s the road most traveled. It’s one thing to advocate for political positions; it’s quite another to live them daily. It just isn’t realistic, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t push for changes that would make being principled more practical.

It really is OK to hop a plane to a far-flung city to discuss solutions to climate change. Those who cry “hypocrite” aren’t serious about the issue, and I highly doubt their lives are led with a purist’s precision.

I’d like to see the tax code simplified and many breaks eliminated. In the meantime, I’m taking the deductions. I think taxes should be raised for a variety of reasons, including reducing the deficit. But I’m not voluntarily sending a check to Uncle Sam.

I’d imagine there are many folks who complain about the New Deal and the Great Society, while cashing their Social Security checks and swallowing government-subsidized pills.

Environmentally conscious people turn out every year to clean up the banks of the Spokane River, but some drive there. Others laud this effort and then drive across state lines to buy the kind of dishwasher soap that kills more fish.

Some people tout “buying local” or “buying American,” but do they never darken the doors of a national chain or visit the Internet? Do they return Christmas gifts made in China? Well, I guess they wouldn’t get such gifts if they proselytized about their efforts.

And this leads me to another question. Is it enough to live your politics, or should you advertise your lifestyle? Do invitations to barbecues spark menu inquiries? If the beef isn’t grass-fed, do you politely decline, eat it or climb atop the soapbox? If you’re the host and a guest brings an alternative entrée, do you protest and keep it off the grill?

As I ponder whether more people carry out their daily devotions, I also question whether this would be a good idea if it became widespread.

Wouldn’t that lead to conservatives only hanging out with conservatives and liberals only consorting with liberals?

Wouldn’t that lead to both sides arguing about separate realities in increasingly harsh language?

Wouldn’t that lead to ridiculous characterizations of the other side’s ideas?

Wouldn’t that lead to nastier elections?

Finally, wouldn’t that sully the nation’s legacy as a melting pot that’s always found ways to compromise to make the country stronger?

I wouldn’t want to live in that America. But if we did head down that path, I’d hope we could adopt the necessary humility to recognize it as a dead end before it’s too late.

Let’s stay together. I can’t add much to all that’s been said or written about the president’s speech in Tucson. My favorite part wasn’t the acknowledgment that U.S. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords had opened her eyes, nor was it the invocation of the 9-year-old victim’s admirable idealism. No, the best part came when I awoke the next morning, surveyed the news and began to realize that many of the president’s political opponents were just as impressed as his supporters.