Vista - The Meaning of Valentine's Day

The Meaning of Valentine's Day by Bill Shein This week, trillions of greeting cards will be sent in honor of St. Valentine, the patron saint of love and romance and chocolates and flowers and fancy dinners and "if you loved me, you would have remembered to make dinner reservations" and awkward silences and jokes to end awkward silences and making up and finding a restaurant that had a cancellation and then having a wonderful evening after all.
(Whew.)
Historically, February is a popular month for love-related festivals. Many ancient celebrations were no doubt inspired by the snowdrifts, inexplicable crankiness, and multiple layers of clothing that often stand between lovers in mid-winter.
In ancient Rome, February 15 was a day to honor Lupercus, a god of both fertility and shepherds. He was usually depicted half-naked and wearing only goatskins — the perfect outfit to wear this Valentine's Day to put your beloved in the mood to throw caution to the wind, sell the house, and move to New Zealand for a simple life of half-naked goat herding.
The Romans also believed that Cupid, the god of erotic love and today's symbol of Valentine's Day, mated with Chaos, the name they gave to the empty void of space that existed before celebrities and satellite TV. Their union created both gods and people. In fact, when you consider the challenges of love and human relationships (understatement heavy), the union of Cupid and something called "Chaos" explains a great deal.
So what does Valentine's Day mean today? It means little candy hearts with messages like "Be mine!" and "Kiss me!" and "This sugary treat brought to you by your local family dentist!"
It means arguing with friends about whether Valentine's Day is just another "Hallmark holiday" dreamed up by marketers to separate you from your hard-earned cash — similar to phony, card-sending opportunities like "Arbor Day" and "Monkeys are Funny Day" and "Anniversary of the Founding of Hallmark Inc. Day."
It means schmaltzy radio dedications that make you shed tears, especially when you hear your girlfriend describe her "everlasting love" for her "soul mate" and then say, "I can't wait to see you tonight, Pablo" — tears that turn to uncontrollable sobbing because your name is Steve and Pablo is the tango instructor who lives next door.
It means hilarious sightings of uncomfortable men walking around lingerie shops with expressions of fear and confusion, making awkward small talk with salespeople before grabbing whatever frilly garment is within reach, paying for it hurriedly ("and keep the change!"), and dashing for the exit.
It means ending your intimate Valentine's Day phone conversations by saying, "Hope you enjoyed that, Mr. and/or Ms. National Security Agency eavesdropper. And get a warrant next time!"
It means dressing like Cupid and prancing around downtown Pittsfield, shooting little love arrows into the love-starved flesh of lonely passers-by until the police arrive.
(In Massachusetts, there's a two-year mandatory minimum sentence for shooting tiny love arrows into the love-starved flesh of lonely passers-by, even for a first offense. So beware!)
It means a night for single, unattached men to enjoy a frosty malt beverage (or 20) and boast that "I don't need anyone!" and "I am single by choice, man!" and "Unlike my friends who are attached, I never have to go antiquing!" before collapsing into the fetal position and weeping softly until someone carries them home.
It means a night for single, unattached women to have a "girls' night out" and boast that "We don't need anyone!" and "We're single by choice! Am I right, ladies?" and "We never have grumpy husbands or boyfriends cramping our style when we go antiquing!" before collapsing into the fetal position and weeping softly until, well, you know.
Finally, it means boycotting retail stores where cashiers say, "Happy Day of Love and Romance for All" instead of "Happy Valentine's Day." Because we simply can't tolerate the devaluation of Valentine's Day into a politically correct holiday that promotes love and romance for everyone, regardless of whether or not they celebrate Valentine's Day.
Think about it. What kind of world would it be if there were enough love and romance for everyone? I'll tell you what kind: One where it's impossible to get dinner reservations on Valentine's Day.
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Bill Shein suggests you make those dinner reservations right now.
(This column originally appeared in the Berkshire Eagle newspaper on February 12, 2006).


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