Well what do you know? It works out that I get to write a Valentine’s Day column. On Valentine’s Day, no less. Sometimes I wonder whether the fates conspire to let me do what I want. I think they do.
So. I’m not a fan of this day. Nope. I don’t particularly like Valentine’s Day.
Well, that’s not completely true. I like it in as much as I know that it’s the day I can set my watch by to know when I can get cheaper candy and chocolate. You know the drill. The day after major holidays, the junk food goes on special. And I often like to take part in that ritualized overspending by a lesser degree than I could have two days earlier.
But that’s about the only part of the day I enjoy.
The rest of it? The lovey-dovey hugs and kisses and endless declarations of love for one’s significant other? No thanks.
It’s overkill, and frankly, offensive.
Here you have these people, who by some corrupted sense of entitlement, think they can rub their mutual weirdness in the faces of others.
OK, if you’re wondering where I got the idea to link love and weirdness together, here you go: “We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness – and call it love – true love.” That’s from Robert Fulghum’s True Love.
Sure, I suppose I am a little bitter about my current situation. Scratch that. I am quite bitter about my current situation.
But I’m pretty sure that if I were in a better position at the moment, I would still feel this way. I’m confident I wouldn’t be buying into the outright consumerist malarkey that everyone is encouraged to buy into on special occasions. It’s not my style.
Romantic dinner out at a fancy restaurant? Too expensive. It’s cheaper, and more fun, to cook together.
Expensive jewelry? What value would it have if you weren’t encouraged to buy it? Think about it, jewelry is just a metal or coloured rock dug out of the ground.
Fancy lingerie? Well, I’m cool with that. It has its practical uses outside Valentine’s Day. Go nuts, I say.
Whatever happened to showing your significant other that you love and care for him or her through words and actions? Have we become so tied to our things that we forget that we once had to make do in the world with little more than the clothes off our backs?
I like to believe our caveman ancestors didn’t go around showering their spouses (if such a thing existed back then) with gifts. Instead, I tend to think they were too busy, oh, I don’t know, staying alive.
And what shows more love than being able to protect one’s family?
Actually, I think I’ve figured out what all this consumerist hogwash is. Since we don’t need to fight off sabre-toothed tigers and other predators, maybe now the only way to show love IS through material things.
Bah. I’m still not buying it.
