In Which I Discuss What Mustard, Ramen, Historical Timekeeping, Fasting, And Booze Have In Common

“Oh, no.  I gave it up for Lent.” – Fletch Lives

I heard the Pope saw a giant mouse and tried killing it with his bat.  Now he’s the first Pontiff banned from Disneyland®.

I’m hoping everyone had a very Happy Easter, I know I did.  And, if you’re Orthodox, I hope you have a Happy Easter this coming weekend.  I know they’re not the same, and I think that the difference in dates has something to do with the metric system and/or the French, so there’s another reason to hate the metric system.  There’s no real need to find another reason to hate the French.

Regardless, before Easter, there is Lent.  Not every Christian observes Lent.  And, just like The Matrix not every Christian knows what Lent even is.

Last year, though, I became more aware of Lent when a younger person was walking down the hallway at work with ash on their forehead.  Immediately I blamed Gen Z’s lax grooming standards, but then dimly remembered it was Ash Wednesday.

So, I started researching.  What the heck was Ash Wednesday?  Well, it’s the start of Lent.

Turns out that Lent is something more than what I find in the drier after running a load of cotton shirts.  It is 40-day period of fasting, prayer, repentance, and preparation for Easter.  Adam Piggot had a post on fasting/diet during Lent on his now-MIA website, and the fasting part caught my eye.

Things Gen Z has to give up when fasting. (as found)

I’d fasted in the past, so I decided, what the heck.  Lent is only 40 days, so I’ll put up with meager food for most of the week, swear off the elevator (our office has the only one this side of Pixley), and do a bit more research.

They lied.

Lent is totally not 40 days, it’s 46 days.  Apparently, Catholics take Sunday off so they don’t count that in the period.  Then there are a lot of specific restrictions on what they can eat and when.  If you’re Catholic, you already know.  If not, well, look it up.  Summary:  the Catholics have a bunch of rules.

Okay.  Fine.  But my food restriction would last Monday through Thursday since we have family dinners on Friday and Saturday.  In 2025 I decided that would only eat a single package of ramen each of those days, and on Friday and Saturday I could eat whatever the family was having.  Oh, and have whatever I wanted to drink on the weekends.

The Mrs. can’t attend next week’s Innuendo Conference, so I guess I’ll have to fill her slot instead.

Turns out that eating ramen is a great way to make sure you have enough sodium in your diet, which is great if you’re trying to keep your blood pressure up.

But I did notice something else:  whenever I thought about cheating and having something other than boring ramen, I thought about the story of Jesus.  Even if you’re not a believer (I am) the idea of Jesus suffering the whipping and Crucifixion made my “the only thing I can eat today is a package of ramen” seem really small and petty.

Eating nothing but ramen wasn’t going to kill me.  I mean, high blood pressure might, but boring ramen wouldn’t.

That first Lent went fine.

For 2026, I decided to up the ante.  I decided I would start the 46 day period the Sunday before Ash Wednesday.  Why?  Same reason as above:  I’d do my 46 days, but I’d still eat with family on Friday and Saturday for evening meals.

Still not allowed during Lent 2026. (as found)

But from Sunday through Thursday night, five days a week?  I’d eat nothing at all for 120 hours straight, every week, except vitamins.  No food:  not even a mustard packet.  When I mentioned my planned Lenten eating schedule, The Mrs. scoffed:

“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to do it.  Are you making up your own rules and start some sort of cult?”

John Wilder:  “Yes, and you can’t join because all of the followers are gonna have to shave off all their body hair and give up bathing for a year and dye themselves blue to show their purity.  Or maybe immerse themselves in vegetable oil for a year.  I’m still working out the details.”

I would have told my cult a joke about Jonestown, but the punchline was too long.

Also, I wouldn’t eat before 3pm on any day but Friday, which is when The Mrs. and I meet up at a local diner to have lunch every week.  So, every week it would look like this:

All day Sunday-Thursday (the very soonest 3pm) no food.

Friday, Lunch and Dinner.

Saturday, Dinner, but no food at all until 3pm.

Why 3pm?

Because that’s when fasts could be broken during Lent in ye olde days.  3pm was the “ninth ecclesiastical hour”, or literally nine hours after the Sun came up.  Back then all time was local.  Noon was when the Sun was at its zenith and midnight was 12 hours later.  Time zones started because railroads required them so they could accurately measure how late the train was.

In Latin was ninth ecclesiastical hour was called None (or “Nona Hora”).  And that’s when the fast for the day could be broken.

Makes sense, right?  Nine hours after 6am is . . . 3pm.

Except . . . when you say that word, None, it’s pronounced like “known”.  And is the basis for a word you’re familiar with.

Noon.

Wait.  Noon isn’t at 3pm.  Noon is at 12:00pm.

In no place except when I lived in Fairbanks was noon nine hours after the Sun rose.

What gives?

The medieval folks were dirty cheaters, and wanted to eat, so since they could only eat after the ninth hour, they pretended that 12:00pm was 3pm.  I am not making any of this up.

Cheaters.

I, however, would not be a dirty cheater.  Except for on Friday.  And since I’m making my own rules in advance, it’s not cheating.

I did not give up cigars.  (as found)

Let’s address the elephant in the room:  on whose authority am I making up my own rules.

Well, mine.  I’m not a Catholic because of the 180-day probationary period and all the paperwork (it might require a Papal decree to get me in, don’t ask) and they wanted a blood sample and a credit report.

Or maybe that was my first job?

Regardless, I’m not trying to meet a particular set of rules.  And my variations were primarily there to keep closer relations with my family.

Besides, the Orthodox start their Lent on the Sunday before Ash Wednesday, too and I think you can join them without shaving off all of your body hair and not bathing for a year, though they can eat as much shrimp and seafood as they want during Lent.

No, I wasn’t trying to follow a set of rules with Lent.  I did it for the intent:  to get closer to the Big Guy.

I guess this is why cats were created. (as found)

Also, I’d give up booze for the whole period.

Sigh.  Yup.  All 46 days.  I also resolved to pray, but I didn’t set hard and fast rules on how much and when.  But I did pray.

The results?

I think Lent worked.  I met every goal that I set.  I’m down at least one size on my pants.  Several aches and pains seem to disappear entirely when I’m in a fasted state.

That’s good, and it probably means I should figure out what I’m eating that’s causing it.

I also got 10 more hours of sleep a week, which might sound decadent but it’s really moving from 5 hours a night to 7 hours a night.

And, yeah, I feel closer to The Big Guy and am much more grateful.  The primary goal was accomplished.  If you look at the memes, though, you can see I’m still an awful human being, but we already knew that and at least I feel bad about it now.

Would parts of this work for a non-believer?  Certainly.

Am I asking you to do what I did?

Absolutely not.  This is completely a YMMV situation.

You know who you are.  (as found)

To celebrate the end of Lent, I’m gonna take my cult out for seafood like the Orthodox get to eat all during Lent.  I’m cheap and seafood is expensive here, but tonight we’ll just be one big happy blue oyster cult.