That is a double-duty title. First, it is a credo I've lived by for most of my life. Secondly, it gives you a hint about the subject of this bloggerania. Today, Tuesday, is Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday. I have always thought that Fat Tuesday sounded like a character on some cartoon. "Hello kids! I'm FAAATTTT TUUUUESDAAAY! We're going to have fun today as we body-slam Wimpy Wednesday right into Thin Thursday. Then, we will hear a story from Friendly Friday. Of course, Sassy Saturday and Sweetie-Pie Sunday will be along to give us a lesson in good behavior before Moldy Monday pops in..." Now, you know why my resume to Barney the Dinosaur was sent back with an accompanying restraining order. Whatever you call Tuesday, I know that tomorrow is Ash Wednesday and the beginning of the church season, Lent. When I was very young, I thought that meant you had to return anything you may have borrowed from someone else over the course of the previous year.

As a kid, I didn't know much about Mardi Gras but I knew that Ash Wednesday meant we'd be going to church on Wednesday, as well as Sunday, for a few weeks. Growing up a Lutheran, we didn't put ashes on our foreheads although many do nowadays, including the church we attend. But, back then, only the Catholic kids got to come to school with ashes on their foreheads. The rest of us thought that was pretty cool. Forgetting about the serious and important symbolism, we just thought that permission to have a "dirty face" was alright. As I mentioned, now, the church we attend does place the ashes on your forehead but, frankly, that has taken some getting used to for me. In my childhood church, we didn't usually go in for much physical contact...apart from a quick handshake as you were exiting. Experts say we all need about two or three feet of personal space to feel comfortable. In my town, that personal space approached 11 or 12 feet. To this day, I am just fine with that. I have already mentioned, some time ago in this space, that even the "sharing of the peace" part of church is a little off-putting for me. Here I am, a Bozo who talks about little or nothing for a living and, when it's time to shake hands and greet your fellow parishioner, I try not to make eye contact as I keep the handshake brief while mumbling "Yeah...peace....good morning...hrummph....bless... thanks...(cough)...." and then sit back down. The first few times the pastor tried to put the ashes on my forehead, I dodged and weaved and said "What are you doing?" The ashes would get a little smeared and, depending on the pastor's aim, I'd return to my pew looking like a very distraught Joan Crawford or very lecherous Groucho Marx.

I don't think Miss Crawford or Groucho probably gave up anything for Lent but that was always the strongly suggested behavior for us. My mom usually gives up chocolate which, according to surveys, is a very popular item to do without until Easter. Giving that sweet treat up for 40 days or so, is not easy for her. Now, my mom is a petite person...the same small size today as she was in high school. She is not a big eater and is very active. Having said all of that, it is still a fact that she not only has a sweet tooth...she has sweet teeth! For as long as I can remember, I would wake up on Saturday mornings to the smell of chocolate cake or brownies and, upon first glance into the pan, notice a tasty corner missing. "Just wanted to make sure it was okay, " my mom, head baker and quality control expert, would say. If you brought home a box of Russell Stover candy for Mother's Day or her birthday you were given "favorite son" status immediately. She can walk into a Wal-Mart she's never before seen and, instinctively, know where the Dove Dark Chocolate Candies are located. So, for her to walk away from the cocoa bean is a major act of self-denial. I have, on a couple of occasions, tried to do the same thing...since I, too, suffer from CADBMYOBS...that is: Chocolate Addiction Disorder But Mind Your Own Business Syndrome. Since I do not burn off my caloric intake as efficiently as my mom, I thought saying no to chocolate would also result in some weight loss. I made a startling scientific discovery. If you replace chocolate with powdered donuts, animal crackers, lots of smoked string cheese and Doritos, you will NOT...I repeat NOT lose any weight. I hope to publish my findings in the respected medical journal, DUH!, at some point in the near future. I have quit trying to give up chocolate, in part because of recent findings that dark chocolate, in particular, may actually be good for you. Of course, the scientists always add "in moderation" but I think they're just being killjoys.

My dad used to give up golf. Not really such a sacrifice in Wisconsin in February. My brothers would choose things like "throwing dead carp at cars" and "running backwards, at full speed, into doorknobs." Things they were unlikely to be engaged in anyway.

Lately, I've heard pastors say that, for Lent, instead of giving up a bad habit, maybe put a positive spin on it, and try to cultivate a good habit. Be more patient. Read more. Smile at strangers. Find opportunities to give of one's time, talent and treasure. I think I'll give that angle a try. It's either that kind of stuff or I'll have to resort to my list: quit snacking...quit watching so much TV...quit chewing fingernails (my own and others')...keep my fingers at least a foot away my nostrils at all times...don't refer to my children as "Hey, you" or "Pinhead" or "Noodlenoggin" or "Dipstick"...don't pretend to be asleep when my lovely wife gets home with a van full of groceries to be put away...don't show up to get my children from school wearing my Sponge Bob pajama bottoms...don't smoke (now, I don't mean cigarettes or anything like that, just, sometimes, I spontaneously start smoking like characters in a Dickens novel)...don't get up to manually change the channel rather than use the clicker and call it a "workout"....well, the list can go on and on and on but you get the idea. In the words of that, until now, unknown verse:

Between Christmas and tax-time, your money's all spent
What a perfect chance to go without
Just settle in for Lent.

You know who first said that? The beloved children's character: Fat Tuesday.