Saturday, February 12, 2011

I Hate St. Valentine and His Chubby Little Friend

Valentine's Day started out as the feast of St. Valentines. There were fourteen martyrs named Valentine. Apparently the church didn't want to have fourteen different feasts so, February 14th became the Feast of St. Valentines. How it became a celebration of love is beyond me. There is no real historical connection between all the Valentines and love. I have a need to know who made Valentine's Day a day to celebrate love because I want to slap him or her. (I don't think a man would have done it, unless, there was a possible cash flow behind it.) I hate Valentine's Day for many reason.

Number 1: I haven't had many Valentines around Valentine's Day. When I did have a valentine he always ended up being a cheapskate or as romantic as a Zebra. So, I get to be the one that has to oooooooh and ahhhhhhh over everybody's flower deliveries at work. Valentine's Day is not fun when one doesn't have a valentine or has been recently dumped or divorced.

Number 2: After thirty-two years of teaching, I am over classroom parties.  The students look forward to class parties. I hate passing out all those cookies and cupcakes and candy. I know that the students are going to be on a sugar high for over week. I also know that something is going to get spilled on the carpet and with Valentine's Day it is probable going to be RED.

Number 3: I hate sap and sentimentality. Who wants  a card with a big, hairy ape on it that says, "You are the gorilla my dreams."? People get paid to make up that stuff. Valentine's Day cards are almost as bad as the radio program Delilah After Dark. That is the program where people call in and dedicate a song to the one that has made all their dreams come true. Whenever Janet and I hear the dedications, we look at each other, count to three and stick our fingers down our throat. One week later, the person that made the sappy dedication is on the line dedicating another song to their dream maker that expresses how much they are missed because they have been dumped by the dream maker.

Number 4: I hate roses. Roses are expensive and even more expensive on Valentine's Day. Roses have thorns. Roses don't smell good. Different colors of roses mean different things. It is heart breaking when one is expecting red roses and are given yellow.

Number 5: That chubby little cupid thing with the bad aim is weird. Did St. Valentine have a chubby, little, naked, winged baby as a sidekick? I thought Don Quixote was the only one with a chubby sidekick. In myth, Cupid ended up punishing his lover because she had the audacity to look at him.  Cupid left her.  Psyche spent endless amounts of time searching for him and had to do some strange tasks in order to find him. She ended up dead. Who would want an overly shy, naked, fat guy that can't sustain a relationship picking their mate?

The worst part about Valentine's Day is that if a woman says that she hates Valentine's Day, everyone thinks it is because she is a lonely old maid.(Hey, I resemble that statement!) My hatred of Valentine's Day is not a product of "sour grapes". I have had valentines. I just don't like choosing one day to let someone know that you love them. I think that people should do that daily! The name Valentine came from the word valens which means worthy, strong, and powerful. Valentine's Day should not be a day to celebrate love, but a day to celebrate strength and independence. All those who have been dumped or divorced, Valentine's Day is your day to celebrate your ability to stand on your own. Take yourself to dinner, buy yourself some flowers and celebrate your courage.

Paco's Perspective

So, because you love me I should be expecting a treat everyday!

The Flip Side

I LOVE this new house. There are so many lizards and quail to chase and many new places to explore. I gotta make this house a Valentine's Day card! Let me think . . . . lizards are spotted, quails are black, I am off exploring, And I may never come back!

1 comment:

  1. I hate when boyfriends and husbands are made to feel that a woman's value can be expressed in material ways. They believe it because their girlfriends and wives believe it and cry or pout when the expressed value is too low for their liking. I really hate that.