Holy Helicopters, It's Lent.

In one respect spending 42 years on daily newspapers was a little like spending decades in the Navy.

You pick up a lot of salty language.

Everyone swears in a newsroom. OK, almost everyone. Except perhaps the religion reporter. And the society writers. Back when they had those, that is. Everyone else seemed to be in a constant contest to see who could use the bluest language in the most novel way.

I remember once, when a newspaper executive was taking VIPs on a tour of The Virginian-Pilot newsroom, the entourage disembarked from the elevators just as one of our female reporters sitting nearby let loose a string of not-very-ladylike expletives into the phone.

The visitors froze. The exec was mortified.

Shortly after a memo circulated asking us to watch our language. The gist: There were better ways to express ourselves than with profanity.

The hell there were.

Oh, wait. I gave up swearing for Lent. Then again, I wrote this on Fat Tuesday so it doesn't really count, does it?

That's exactly the sort of legalistic rationalization some of us will devolve into during the next 40-something days. Do we give up something we enjoy? Or something that's bad for us? Do we use Lent for fasting? Or to start a diet? Or as a belated New Year's resolution? Are Sundays get-out-of-Lent-free days? Or do we abstain every day from now till Good Friday?

For the unchurched and those who don’t watch Fox News where every member of the news team will be sporting ashes on their foreheads, today is Ash Wednesday. During this bleak period building up to Easter, some Christian denominations - including mine - urge their members to give up something as an act of penance.

It all seems so easy on Ash Wednesday. I'll stop drinking wine, you tell yourself. The next thing you know, you're in line at the ABC store holding a 1.75 liter bottle of Cuervo Gold.

That actually happened to me a few years back. You don't have to be a theologian to know there's something seriously wrong with that exchange. But I'm a huge sinner. No doubt you can do better.

Truth is, Lent is easy for kids. They give up candy or video games.

Even if they don't get any spiritual benefit, they learn something about self-control, and that's a good thing.

It's more problematic for adults.

First, we don't have parents looking over our shoulders. Second, we don't demand a lot of ourselves, even when it comes to fasting. Sundays off, for instance. While it's true that Sundays are special and not "prescribed" as days of abstinence, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops points out that there are no firm rules about Lent, but that penitential "practices are disciplinary in nature and often more effective if they are continuous."

I agree about the continuity business. Mostly because using Sunday to let loose with a stream of obscenities that I've kept bottled up all week seems a tad, well, blasphemous.

A couple of years ago when I was writing a column about Lent I asked my Facebook peeps what they were giving up. The comments were full of smart-aleck replies like "religion," "Lent," "rules established by men thousands of years ago in the name of organized religion" and "snow" from a buddy who lives in Boston.

But if my sample was any indicator, lots of people really do something difficult during Lent. And not just Catholics.

One pal said she was giving up reality TV. Another, a three-times-a-week golfer, said he wouldn’t pick up his clubs till Easter. A couple of friends were giving up social media. Among the others, several were giving up meat, one was abstaining from fast food, another was going to quit shopping online and many more were giving up sugar.

One of my girlfriends was giving up wine. A friend in Dublin said he planned to stop putting water in his whiskey. (The Irish. Incorrigible.)

Since I’ll be refraining from profanity for Lent, I turned to my daughter for help. She’d had to sanitize her vocabulary after she took a job in a Montessori pre-school after college.

She suggested I replace common curse words with these G-rate expletives:

Daggum.

Oh my stars.

Son of a sea cook.

Geez Louise.

Holy helicopter.

Shut the front door.

Cheese and rice.

Sugar.

Fudge.

Hey, it's worth a try. I’ll be a better person if I don't cuss.

Besides, it's only for about six dang weeks.