I think it’s about time for love and romance, and the joy of treasuring those special moments with those in your life who bring you joy and happiness. You know how I know? I was just at Wal-Mart, and was blinded by bright red colors, saw thousands of boxes of chocolate, and shelves loaded with expensive Valentine’s Day cards. I was also almost run over by a desperate looking man with a cart loaded with an enormous, red teddy bear. Oh yeah; I just noticed that the price of a dozen roses has doubled in the past week.
I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that Valentine’s Day is becoming more and more like Christmas in terms of commercialization. Have any of you seen those commercials where the guy hands his significant other a diamond ring that looks like a goose egg. As she stares in awe at the magnificent diamond, she turns to her husband and says, “Honey, I love you.” What I’d like to hear her say is, “Wow, this is great. Oh, by the way, I had a detective follow you. You and your secretary take a pretty good picture. Here are the divorce papers. Thanks again for the ring.” I’ve decided to do things a little differently this Valentine’s Day. No more of those expensive earrings or giant stuffed toys. This year I’m going to spend hours meticulously cutting, gluing, and coloring a homemade card for my wife. I’ll then tell her I love her fifty times, clean the house, make dinner, and spoon with her for twenty straight hours as we watch dozens of “chick flicks.” Of course I’ll probably need to see a psychiatrist after seeing all those movies, but what the heck. That’s what love’s all about, right?
My wife also won’t be getting any chocolate this year. Hey Valentine’s Day people! What’s with all the chocolate? I don’t know about you ladies out there, but my wife would kill me if I brought home a six-pound box of assorted chocolates. She’s constantly dieting, attends regular aerobics classes and walks almost every day. Kind of cruel don’t you think, to say, “Happy Valentine’s Day honey. Here’s ten thousand fat-laden calories, which will cause you to gain five pounds, and swell up like a giant balloon. I also got you a new sweat-suit one size bigger than you normally wear.” Can someone answer this question? What’s with the naked baby flying around with a bow and arrows? Legend has it, if Cupid strikes you with his arrow you will fall madly in love with the next person you see. All I can say is he better not shoot me in the butt. I’d hate to be helping Widow Murphy with her yard work and say, ”Thanks for the tea Mrs. Murphy. Ouch………… Mrs. Murphy, or if I may be so bold as to call you Edna? I never noticed how lovely your eyes were. Especially, that third one in the center of your forehead.”
They have it all wrong on that naked baby Cupid thing. He grew up, and had this amazing affair with Psyche – which is probably mythology’s most romantic story and should serve as the Valentine ideal in place of infant archers.
I’m going to have to check up on that. The name Psyche sounds familiar. I’ll have to hone up on my ancient Greek history.
I had to swot up on it as I featured their daughter Pleasure (Voluptas or Hedone) in my latest novel.