Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for that annual façade of endearment known as Valentines Day.
After Christmas and New Years we in the northern hemisphere have spent a month with the winter blues while you in the southern hemisphere have sweated your ass off. Honestly, do you people not believe in air conditioning?
But now we can be distracted by Valentines Day, that day when our hearts dwell upon love, though perhaps not in the warm and fuzzy way commercials say we should.
Yes, some kids are still learning remotely, but many children are back in the classroom and are expected to provide some sort of paper card touting a positive message to each member of the class as well as to their teachers. A few children have a parent who will go above and beyond (and make the rest of the classroom parents envious) by providing cards with candy attached, or decorated cookie valentines, or preparing tokens for their sweet baby to gift to each adult he or she comes in contact with during the course of the school day.
Our All-About-Me teen girls are expecting (and the rest are hoping for) huge bouquets of flowers or balloons. You may recall a dozen or so years ago some principals had to stop the deliveries from arriving at schools because the day devolved into a contest over which precious angel would receive the biggest and best.
If you’re an adult in a stable relationship you may send or receive flowers or candy. Some may get a bit more adventurous and opt for lingerie. A few smitten partners will profess their love and propose marriage. Fantasies of a night of passionate sex are on the mind of the giver, while his or her partner is hoping this will be the year they receive a negligee that actually fits.
Meanwhile those of us who are in fairly new dating situations will find the day brings heartache. Love is in the air and the pressure is everywhere to get with the program, but if we’re not yet quite sure that’s where we want to go with this one, we may find ourselves alone yet again. I know in my case I’ve been seeing a man for a few weeks, but I can tell the end is nigh. Last weekend he was anxious to go out with me and couldn’t wait to see me again. This weekend he couldn’t come over because he had to do his laundry.
But next weekend… next weekend for sure.
Despite my advanced age, dating is still new for me. Depression told me no one truly cared about me, so these few not-depressed weeks of having a man text me to say good morning and call me to say good night have been blissful. I can’t help but wonder if I might have enjoyed a few more weeks of that but for the red, lacy, retail holiday hyped-up by Hallmark and Viagra. Oh well. It might have lasted a bit longer, but the outcome would have invariably been the same.
Because Valentines falls on a Sunday and grocery stores sell one hellova lot of flowers and candy, I’m going to spend next weekend delivering love to others. The flowers won’t be from me, but I’ll make sure those recipients get the best I can find and that they’re delivered intact and with a smile (beneath a mask, of course). They can return my affection in the form of a tip. Sure beats sitting at home feeling sorry for myself.
Don’t you waste the weekend feeling sorry for yourself either. Valentines Day is now like every other holiday: designed to sell you shit you wouldn’t otherwise buy. Retailers don’t care about love; they care about money, and you deserve better than to dwell in their made-up fantasy world of dollars masquerading as adoration.
I wish each of you a Happy Valentines Day and hope you know that I care about you. With that thought, buy yourself some wine, some chocolates, and find a good comedy on Amazon Prime.