Champagne, chocolate and condoms all seem to fly off the shelves a bit faster in the days preceding Valentine's Day. And why not? Wining, dining and late-night grinding with our valentine have been a cultural norm for many every Feb. 14. It's how people express their love.
But often overlooked on Valentine's Day are the people who've loved us all our lives -- our family. Now I'm not suggesting we take our parents out to a movie and then, um. . . you know, but they at least deserve some token of our love today for thousands of reasons.
First, they conceived us by making love -- not having sex. Had not they loved each other so much, we would not be alive. Even if they are not still together, they still love us. They loved us when we crapped our pants, spilled our milk and struck out in Little League (some even coached us). They loved us when we broke our bones, broke curfew and broke the living room window. They loved us more when we got our hearts broken in high school.
While holding the hand of your valentine today, recall the times mommy and daddy held our hands cleaning the scrapes off our knees, when walking us across the street and when we got those dreaded shots at the doctor's office. Ever watch a parent hold an infant's arms while they bobble into their first steps? It's a different love than that shared with a girlfriend or boyfriend because it's deeper, more innate. Physical attraction is not a barrier to their acceptance of you.
Even if they say the words with less frequency, some broke out the anticipated "I love you" as they hugged us into our first lonely night at college. And although most of us can say we love our parents, how often do we say it to them? "Luv ya lots" at the an email's end doesn't count.
Not to spoil the beautiful evening many of you plan on having tonight, but how many times have you spent a previous Valentine's Day with someone else you thought you loved? How many times have you slept with someone you thought you loved? How many more Valentine's Days will you spend with the one you think you love now?
Our society is overly engrossed with materialism surrounding Valentine's Day that buying flowers and candy for your loved one is expected only on that day. Ladies, if your man dropped by with flowers and chocolates in July, wouldn't that be much more refreshing and romantic? It's unfortunate it doesn't happen more and part of reason why is because there are no advertisements to remind us that we love someone. Weeks before Cupid's arrival, he shoots arrows with explosive and expensive Hallmark-brand tips. So let me get this straight, buying your products are the best way to tell a woman "I love you?" I think have a better way -- I'll say it.
Also trapped beneath Valentine's Day's chocolate coating of commercialization are the po' lonely folk. And that doesn't just include the single like myself. What about the widows, the divorced and the orphans? All of them are meant to feel ostracized because everywhere they will look today, they'll be reminded that they have no one that "loves" them. Windows, television screens and now Internet pop-up ads blanket our vision; Yahoo, AltaVista and even this newspaper has been painted with pink ads all week.
After a bit of research, I found that Valentine's Day originated in the third century as a pagan tradition in the Roman Empire. According to tradition, hordes of hungry wolves circled shepherds and sheep every February. To keep the predators away, the shepherds worshipped their god, Lupercus. It became a ritual ever since it worked the first time -- kind of lying to our parents in high school, right?
Christian tradition cleaned up the holiday on its surface, but I still see wolves out there (Hallmark, DeBeers and the entire flower industry) trying to siphon my money. Don't get me wrong, I think that buying a bouquet and taking a loan out for a diamond are sweet things to do. I can see myself doing that when love takes the form of a hopeful finacée. I just have issues when it is presumed upon us as expected behavior today.
I will freely admit that if I had a girlfriend, I wouldn't be ranting this much about our society and our families. Cupid hasn't shot me for a while but at least it's allowing to me to ignore the corporate vultures trying to sell me love in a box.
Love isn't sold. Love isn't advertised. Nor is it in our pearl-less platter of aphrodisiac oysters whose innards drape around your loved one's neck.
It's the feeling lingering in the room after all our Christmas presents have been opened. It's the anticipation we felt days before going on a big family vacation. It's the luxury we had when our lunchboxes were packed with our sandwiches cut in half.
It's that instinctive affection that is often blinded by capitalism. Draw the shades and open the window and you'll have a view of people that don't need your presents. In fact, they buy them for you quite often expecting nothing in return -- they're your family. They'll love us for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, as long we both shall live because their love, like the diamond we'll sell our souls for, is forever.
