A Heartfelt Bah Humbug
Valentine’s Day is ausgespielt. Sorry, but it’s really my favorite synonym for a past-tense f-bomb. Ausgespielt, as in “done, played out!” Or in more common German vernacular, Valentine’s Day is kuchen! Wait a minute, that’s coffee cake. I meant, kaput!
Name one person who loves Valentine’s Day; someone who earnestly looks forward to the middle of February as some hallowed signal to celebrate love. Frankly, as holidays go, it might even rank under Columbus Day, which is saying something.
That’s okay. St. Valentine never intended for us to gorge on sappy sentiments. No! This third century saint was all about bees. Apparently he was awarded the title “Patron Saint of Beekeeping” after St. Francis was controversially named “Patron Saint of ALL Animals.” Upon appeal, they let Valentine have bees, you know, to avoid a whole brouhaha.
History is quite sketchy on this as there were two St. Valentines. What do they have in common besides honey and EpiPens? Officiating secret weddings! Well that, and they were both beheaded. Not very romantic.
Some suggest the origin of Valentine’s Day is an ancient Roman festival that celebrates spring. Now, that’s something I could get behind! Yes! On Valentine’s Day, Vermonters could rejoice in only six more weeks of arctic temperatures! I was just about to cut some red paper hearts when I learned that said festival included pairing off women with men - wait for it - by lottery! Again, not very romantic.
Maybe I have a jaded heart. If so, I came by it honestly as the Valentine’s Day indoctrination began in preschool. Up until sixth grade, the annual ordeal began with my mother buying packages of valentines for seven children. I don’t know where she found the money, but it does explain the frequent Campbell soup dinners. Thanks a lot Mr. St. Valentine!
And just try to pick the right valentine for a classroom of bullies. For God’s sake, these kids weren’t nice to me on a daily basis, why was it normalized for me to give them a love note? And which ones to pick? Was Scooby Doo really the message I wanted to send or dare I select cards with puppies that shout, “Doggone it, be mine!”
Then ensued prepubescent anxiety on steroids. Would I get a valentine in return? These Hunger Games finally ended in fourth grade when the school instituted a rule where everyone had to give a valentine to everyone. The irony escaped my nine year old self as I was too focused sucking the words “Be Mine” off a chalky candy heart.
As I grew older, Valentine’s Day morphed into some societally desired proof that I was lovable. If I was in a relationship and didn’t get a card, the horror! Or worse, when sweetheart-less, and every kiss begins with Kay, being alone felt like I was a leper in Ben Hur!
Even when deliciously in love and gifted with valentines, they felt obligatory. Like that prostate exam which I’m sure wasn’t top of his list.
Was he really inspired to get me a card? Flowers? Chocolates? And why not make the gift more useful? How about a Valentine’s Day oil change? Or if you really loved me, you’d unload the dishwasher.
Listen, if you’re a Valentine’s Day lover, don’t let me squash your beating heart. Have at it!
By no means are you alone. This year, 145 million Valentine’s Day cards will be sent. Phew, that’s a lot of cards to deliver. Maybe I’ll buy just one and hand it to my postal carrier. These days, she could use some love.