Every angle of both sides of that story has already been written, one million times over.
And yet, the whole damn thing is manmade.
Valentine's Day is a self-inflicted gunshot to the brain of society. Some of us are disgusted, some try to enjoy the tingling sensation before it turns to pain, and others still try to clean up the mess.
But why? How did we get here? Why do we continue to make it worse? Is there any way to stop it?
Minimal internet research found that little is known about Saint Valentine.
According to wikipedia,
"The feast of St. Valentine was first established in 496 by Pope Gelasius I, who included Valentine among those "... whose names are justly reverenced among men, but whose acts are known only to God."
Valentine could have been up to fourteen different martyrs, according to the internet, which is pretty cool, according to me.
but it does not answer the question of When this anonymous person become so important as to get the dedication of an unofficial yet routinely celebrated, manmade, non-holiday?
Somewhere along the lines, the snowflake anonymity of Valentine gained speed and girth until it became a yearly fatal avalanche.
Television and movies did not help.
At some point Big Jewelry wanted to play (probably the 80's) and Big Chocolate convinced everyone that they actually invented the Game itself.
There must be a way to make money on the 200% inflation of roses every year, and I want in.
And the worst poison of all is the mass produced Valentine's card. They scared me as a child and still do.
The very first heartless sales-weasel bloodsucking money grabber to run that scam was from right here in Massachusetts.
the Hallmark family holds a ceremony every year on Valentine's night at midnight when they drink unhealthy amounts of alcohol and burn $100 bills over his grave while giving him thanks and praise. every Hallmark child's attendance is mandatory.
James and I had our first date on Valentine's Day 16 years ago. At that point I shared a dorm room with Miss Teen California and lived next to two models dating fancy foreign men. The pomp surrounding the day was overwhelmingly obnoxious. Still, I called the shy boy on the shuttle and asked if he would be my Valentine. His reply has become a legend: What does that entail?
ReplyDeleteWhile my dorm mates fussed about roses and limos and make-up and hair I pieced together a valentine out of old art magazines I had picked out of the trash on Charles Street. When they got picked up I walked to the cafe. We had a lovely time.
It is, like any of these things, what you make of it. This year I dipped strawberries in chocolate. We took the kids out for dinner. I cleaned their room because that was what they wanted for Valentine's Day. We taught Sam how to write his letters so he could write his friends' names. The day passed with more sugar than most, but not much more fanfare.
Love notes in lunches. That's what it's about.