Valentine's Day Sucks Balls...
It’s official. Valentine’s Day has now passed New Year’s Eve as my least favorite holiday. Yup, I hate it more than Arbor Day, Bastille Day, Grandparents Day, Ash Wednesday-- whatever you got.
I don’t really recall but years ago, around fourth and fifth grade, I imagine I loved Valentine’s Day. Why not? I was the chubby but good-looking kid who always received the most valentines from my female classmates. One year the teacher, for whatever reason, conducted his own private poll (he’d be arrested for this today, no doubt) and every girl in the class whispered in his ear that she had a crush on yours truly. And who could blame them? However, today, after being marrried, fat and happy, if a woman under the age of seventy smiles at me at the mall I practically skip all the way back to my house. Sigh..... I’ll be right back…I'm going to go drown myself...
OK, enough with the self-pity.... I think I might have enjoyed the holiday back before the spoilsport Christians wrapped their self-righteous fingers around it. In Ancient Rome February 14th was celebrated as a day to honor the god Juno. And the next day was the Feast of Lupercalia, when all the young women in town each got to draw the name of a young man to whom they would be “paired” for the duration of the festival, and it wasn’t for volleyball if you know what I mean.....For the slow....It was so they could get bucknasty and get their freak on, and that is what I call a holiday worth taking a personal day for!
I’ve been uncomfortable for a while about our modern bogus celebration of love, but it really hit home last year at work as I watched woman after woman receive the flowers or candy or stuffed animals that were being delivered to the office in a constant stream throughout the day. You could tell the bell had rung, the gates were open and the race was on! And woe to the sorry-ass husband who didn’t at least finish in the Show position in this race, the ultimate competition to see who is truly “the most beloved.” Ugh...I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit...
The thing is the idea of Valentine’s Day is all right in its own way (though I’d still rather draw names and get some strange) but it’s become such a commercialized scam. I couldn’t go on living if I didn’t believe in my heart that there is a special super-white-hot circle of Hell (just above the one reserved for the Bin Laden family) waiting for those flower sellers who double or triple the price on a wilting bunch of flowers because they know that we, the husbands and boyfriends, and God help your wallet if you happen to be both, don’t have a choice.
We do, of course, have a choice, but even I, the most stubborn asshole you’re ever likely to meet, seem powerless to fight this annoying holiday. Last year I caved at the last minute and found myself in a line at Kroger hurriedly forking over twenty clams for one of their few remaining limp and fading mittfuls of short stemmed roses. And hating myself for doing it. Ah, well in the end we will do whatever it takes to make our loved ones smile just a bit...
Christian legend has it that St. Valentine, the clown credited with starting this hokum, was a priest who was imprisoned for performing outlawed marriage ceremonies around 270 AD. He would leave notes for that hot piece of ass, the jailer’s daughter, and sign them, “from Your Valentine.” Then he was executed. Sucks for him...I hope he at least got a handjob in the corner or something before his execution...Otherwise the whole thing would seem kind of pointless wouldn't it?
