Lent

I had to do a little research for today's post, and that can only mean convoluted writing is sure to follow. So, before we get to the "meat" (first pun of the day) of today's post, how about a couple of bon-bons to start?

Settle in and grab a cup of coffee before you read on. I think this post will turn out to be a good one, but I'm feeling long-winded today.

New Zealand, Switzerland and Denmark joined the BYE League of Nations this week, bringing our total flag count up to 31. I don't have much to say about New Zealand or Switzerland or other than I love lamb chops and chocolates. Oh, my Rolex keeps perfect time thanks to its Swiss precision, even if I am sporting a cheap Timex these days.

But I do have a cute anecdote about Denmark.

One of my enduring memories of childhood was riding the roller coaster at Tivoli Gardens, an amusement park in Copenhagen. I was maybe seven years old at the time, and it was my first roller coaster. What a rush! I've been hooked on roller coasters ever since.

A few years ago Teri and I found ourselves in Copenhagen. I wanted to relive my childhood for a couple of hours, so off we went to Tivoli Gardens. It's a beautiful little park, especially when it's lit up at night. We watched the kiddie puppet show and ate Danish junk food before making our way to the roller coaster.

The coaster was much smaller and less menacing than I remembered. Teri detests roller coasters, but even she agreed to climb on this tame little ride with me. Each car had two rows of two. Teri and I had the front two slots and a pair of adorable blond Danish children were in the row behind us.

Like many roller coasters these days, this one had a camera taking pictures of the riders as they made the first big drop. When we got to the photo booth at the end of our ride to see our picture, we noticed that the two precious children behind us were wise to the game and they were both flipping the bird to the camera. Of course we had to buy that picture. I'd post it here, but it's somewhere in the basement archives and I'm too lazy to go hunt for it.

Recently I heard from a former colleague for the first time in decades. Pat and I once labored for a publisher that has long-since been merged out existence. Anyway, Pat's friend Claire (whom I have never met) somehow stumbled across this little corner of the webiverse and lurks here from time to time. For reasons I can't fathom, Claire mentioned the BYE blog to Pat. Pat surprised Claire by saying she actually knew me.

Here's the part of the story that warms the cockles of my heart. Claire told Pat that she feels she "knows me" from reading this blog. Wow. What a tremendous compliment. I'm moved by hearing that and honored to know you're out there somewhere, Claire.

Teri is back from Mardi Gras, safe and sound. She was gone five nights. I'm happy to have her home and have resumed my regular schedule of personal hygiene.

She got home last night after teaching her class, and we indulged in a ritual we have enjoyed on Mardi Gras night for many years. We ate Popeye's chicken. The spicy kind. I think I ate four pieces of that most toothsome delicacy. It's so good that I allow myself to have it just once or twice a year, but always on Mardi Gras night.

Teri brought back several treats from New Orleans including some of our friend Colleen's crawfish etouffe, quite a few pounds of fresh gulf shrimp, and a baggie filled with our friend Nina's homemade toffee.

All of these things are better than you can imagine. Our krewe refers to Nina's toffee as crack--it's that addicting. The etouffe and shrimp are in the freezer awaiting special nights, but after I polished off the chicken I gorged myself on most of the crack.

I even had a bourbon and ginger ale to wash it all down.

Happy Mardi Gras.

That was last night. Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, and it's a whole different deal.

For those of you not up on Christian calendars, Lent is the 40 day period of prayer, fasting and reflection between Mardi Gras and Easter Sunday. It's mostly a Catholic thing, and even though Teri and I are Protestants, a lot of Catholic culture rubbed off on us in our fifteen years in New Orleans.

During Lent you're supposed to deny yourself certain pleasures. Some people don't drink alcohol or give up tobacco for Lent. Vice-free people often refrain from cookies, cakes and candy for Lent.

Traditionally, you shouldn't eat any meat during this time, although today people mostly observe that practice only on Fridays during the Lenten season. Giving up meat isn't much of a sacrifice for New Orleanians. Seafood doesn't count as meat and there's an abundance of fresh fish, shrimp and shellfish available there along with a legion of inventive chefs in New Orleans to cook it. For example, Colleen's crawfish etouffe is a sensual indulgence and violates the spirit of this period of self-denial in every way, but it's still fair game during Lent.

The whole idea of Mardi Gras (which literally translates as fat Tuesday) is to have one last blowout before Lent begins. The period leading up to Mardi Gras is called Carnival and that word comes from two Latin words--carne (meat) and vale (goodbye). So carnival literally translates to "farewell to the flesh." There are several ways you can interpret the expression, and they're all appropriate.

Lent is a great excuse to jump-start a diet, and that's exactly what Teri and I are doing today.

I'm giving up alcohol for Lent. It's not that big a deal for me since I'm not much of a drinker anyway, and Easter will come long before I go to New Orleans for Jazz Fest or Teri and I escape on our Carribean cruise.

I'm also going to give up meat for Lent, and that will be a little more challenging. I love me some lamb, pork, steak and chicken.

Finally, I'm fasting today. Maybe. If I get desperate I'm going to allow myself one apple. If I get really desperate, I'll abandon the experiment altogether. We'll see how it goes. If this were a religious fast, I shouldn't be telling you about it, but that's not my motivation. I'm fasting out of curiousity and to start getting my body Speedo-ready for summer.

I'm just kidding about the Speedo. I can think of about a hundred reasons that wouldn't be a good idea.