Valentines Schmalentines

I usually rant on Valentines Day about how much I hate the holiday because I never have anyone to dote on during that holiday. No one to send flowers to. No one to profess undying love to. This year, however, I have decided that I actually hate the holiday for other reasons.

1. It's love but it's commercialized. It's totally a way for retailers to get out of the slumps in January during the aftershock of Christmas. No one is out shopping after Christmas, it's time to give them an excuse to come back to the stores.

2. Valentine's is for Losers. I'm beginning to think that Valentine's Day is for schmoozers and losers who think that, by giving their significant other great big bouquets, chocolates, etc, they are being romantic and wonderful. Wrong-o. Think about it. Doing something hugely romantic on Valentine's is predictable, cliche, and booooring because EVERYONE and their dogs are doing the exact same thing.

3. I don't need a day set aside in order to show love. Honest and truly, I want someone to dote on, someone to spoil and to make them feel like they're loved. But really? Do I need to have Valentine's Day to do something I should/would/could already be doing with my significant other? Maybe this is coming from a naive mind of a guy who has never had a girlfriend. I think it would be far greater to show the love in random, spontaneous, and unexpected ways instead of waiting for February 14th to send flowers to my girl.

4. Think of the History of Valentines. February 15th was long celebrated as a fertility festival. It's also a day commemorating a martyr who died because he believed it was unfair not to let soldiers marry in the third century. Maybe this is a leap in logic, but it's like how we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr Day and, say, in 2,000 years we find that people are celebrating MLK Jr. Day as a day to wear hats and say "Bonjour" to every person you see. I don't know. That was all I could think of. But you see my point? The holiday is not, today, what it was originally meant to be. I guess the same could be said for other holidays.

5. Lovey-Dovey Crap. I get ill seeing all these couples walking around being all showy with their love. PDA is not attractive, folks. A little smooch here and there, a little holding of hands, that's great. I was at work by myself awhile ago, around Valentines and this couple came in. The whole time they sat in this chair and they could not keep their hands off each other. They weren't making out or anything but I was disgusted the whole time. Even from clear across the store I felt uncomfortable.

On another note, we sell a bunch of Valentines stuff at work and WOW. Are you serious? It's all about "Love is Forever and Always because Love Never Grows Old." Any cliche statement you can think of about love, we've got it at Deseret Book.

So there you have it. I may be singing a different tune next year. Who knows? But for now, those are my feelings about this stupid holiday. I'm going to leave you with a poem written by someone who isn't your typical Valentine poet. Emily Dickinson wrote a few Valentines that aren't very well-known mostly because they are so atypical of her. Here we see a cynic who actually sees a chance at love and I take some hope in her words.

1

Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!

Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun;
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son.
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap'st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There's Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time!
Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower,
And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower—
And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum—
And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!