Every year somewhere around Spring-time there occurs a pagan ritual known as Lent. For 40 days I will “give up” something dear to me. I look forward to this tradition as the isolation from comfort has always warmed my heart.
We’re already a few days in, but I haven’t settled on anything yet. I’ve been so preoccupied with all the holidays during Lent that considering additional sacrifices has been choresome. I’m on the planning committee for the Ides of March celebration we have down at the Senior Center. Every year they all want to be Brutus at the reenactment. I guess it’ll be another drooling vegetable in a wheelchair that plays Caesar this year. With barely any time to clean up, St Patrick’s Day throws up all over the place just a couple days later. This is one ethnic holiday I’d like to see cleansed from the calendar
I do have a few ideas for my Lentin sacrifice. I need to stop peering out the shutters at my neighbors. I also pledge to stop stealing knobs from the floor model grills at Home Depot. One year I gave up forks and spoons, but only in public. That worked pretty well.
The problem with this ritual is that it leads to too many conversations. Does anyone really care what I’m giving up? No, he just wants to impress me with whatever stupid thing he is doing. I mostly respect the people who claim to be forgoing chocolate. This is akin to doing nothing. These people are courageously standing up to the ritual. The energy involved here is pricelessly low, and if the gesture were filled with any more shame, a smile might creep across my face.