One of the results of a postmodern culture is the blurring of lines between once distinct social groups. Six years ago David Brooks introduced the term "bobo" to explain how some people found a way to blend the once polar opposite lifestyles of bourgeois and bohemian. (Think of Ben and Jerry wearing their tie-dyed shirts in their multi-million dollar corporate ice cream headquarters or the suit and tie banker sipping lattes and doing yoga during his lunch hour).

Now meet the latest blend: crunchy cons. While it may sound like a cereal for kids, crunchy cons are actually a vibrant group emerging out of the cultural landscape. Rod Dreher, a writer at the Dallas Morning News (formerly with National Review) coined that term to describe people who are living the crunchy lifestyles often associated with liberal Democrats but within a framework out of which the modern Republican party was built.

The lengthy subtitle of Dreher's Crunchy Cons book says it best, "How Birkenstocked Burkeans, gun-loving organic gardeners, evangelical free-range farmers, hip homeschooling mamas, right-wing nature lovers, and their diverse tribe of countercultural conservatives plan to save America (or at least the Republican Party)."

Do you see yourself at all in that description? Have you ever felt a little out of place in the political party you've voted for? Do the bumper stickers on your car look out of place in the Whole Foods or Trader Joes parking lot?

I've felt this disconnect at times, but I couldn't quite put my finger on the reason. As I flipped through the first chapters of Crunchy Cons, however, I found myself in the pages and realized with delight and relief, that I'm not alone.

I grew up a Republican and even worked for Republicans on Capitol Hill. But I hadn't realized how far the conservative movement that drives the Republican party has drifted from its original vision. With the exception of their emphasis on national defense, Republicans seem focused primarily on fiscal policy, keeping the economic engines humming. While the party has often embraced the issues of social conservatives, it has been reluctant to champion that agenda when it conflicts with big business.

Dreher believes wholeheartedly that the free market is a superior principle for organizing the economy, but believes the "economy must be made to serve humanity's best interests, not the other way around." To that he adds, "big business deserves as much skepticism as big government."

The heart of Dreher's message is a return to what Russell Kirk, patriarch of the conservative movement, identified as "the Permanent Things" — the eternal moral norms Kirk found to be necessary to civilized life.

Dreher worries that modern conservatives are growing too materialistic and are losing their heart for the character of society. "The point of life is not to become a more satisfied shopper," he says. While this attitude runs counter to the lifestyle of most Americans, it taps into a longing for meaning that is slowly emerging.

Author Daniel Pink writes in his book, A Whole New Mind, "For most of history, our lives were defined by scarcity. Today, the defining feature of social, economic and cultural life in much of the world is abundance." The proof of our abundance is in how much we throw away. Pink points out that the United States spends more on trash bags alone than 90 other countries spend on everything.

Pink's best observation is what he calls the "paradox of prosperity." He explains, "While living standards have risen steadily decade after decade, personal, family, and life satisfaction haven't budged. That's why more people — liberated by prosperity but not fulfilled by it — are resolving the paradox by searching for meaning."

Crunchy cons are people who are seeking meaningful lives, not just financially profitable and consumptive ones. Dreher believes that meaning is found in lives built on faith and family.

Though his book is not overtly Christian, Dreher, an Orthodox believer, points to the foundation of faith for crunchy con values — a compass more reliable than the Dow Jones. "Too often, the Democrats act like the Party of Lust, and the Republicans the Party of Greed," says Dreher, "Both are deadly sins that eat at the soul, and crunchy cons believe that both must be resisted in our personal and communal lives."

When it comes to family, Dreher agrees with Kirk's assessment that it's the institution "most essential to conserve." He shares Kirk's observation that "the best way to rear up a new generation of the Permanent Things is to beget children, and read to them o' evenings, and teach them what is worthy of praise" adding "the wise parent is the conservator of ancient truths."

Building on these key platforms, Dreher explains that for crunchy cons, "It's about living a life mindful of and honoring the wisdom in tradition, and in so doing building a tradition to pass on to one's children, and to future generations. It doesn't aim to make folks wealthier, except where it counts: in their relationships to each other and to the natural world."

By telling us about the path his family has taken, and introducing us to numerous people he has met along the way, Dreher illustrates the crunchy con lifestyle dedicating chapters to the marketplace, food, home, education, religion and the environment, among others. In each area, he holds up people whose granola lifestyles would make you sure they're Ralph Nader supporters, but who go on to explain how their choices are based on a conservative worldview.

Building from the conservative tradition, Dreher introduces a new take on "crunchy." "Here's the thing," he says, "we didn't turn into droopy, pale-skinned dullards who washed down our nightly tofu with wheatgrass juice." Good thing, that diet might have dimmed the bright wit that makes each chapter so readable.

The only chapter, in fact, that I had some trouble reading was the one on the environment. In this section, Dreher starts well in his argument that conservatives should have the best vision for conserving the environment God created for us. On this point, more and more conservatives are waking up and re-thinking their appetites for consumption. What troubled me was Dreher's dogged belief in theories and tactics of environmental protection that are still up for reasonable debate among environmentalists.

The parts of the environmental chapter I found easiest to agree with were those that focused on the conserving principles I could apply in my own home. Those principles, after all, seemed most consistent with Dreher's emphasis on the impact of "small platoons" of families living out conservative values instead of taking the approach of some movements seeking social change through top-down programs imposed by government.

That's why Dreher doesn't suggest forming a new political party. He's realistic in his understanding of how the system works and instead, suggests reforming the party most amenable to the crunchy con values, from within. It's about much more than elections and party affiliation. Crunchy conservatism is not, in Dreher's words, "a political program; it's a sensibility, an attitude, a fundamental stance toward reality, and a pretty good road map to a rich, responsible, fulfilling, charitable, and above all joyful life."

The crunchy con lifestyle that emerges from this book is truly countercultural. It goes against the things America is known for (and teaches us to love): fast food, stuff marts, mass public education, McMansions in the suburbs, and more. Though many Boundless readers may find they can't fully adopt a crunchy con life until they've started their families, I think the philosophy behind this movement will resonate with a generation alienated by the emptiness of hyper-consumer culture. One longing for the meaning that comes from living faithfully by the "Permanent Things."