Oh, Oh. I just looked at my calendar, and saw Valentines Day is almost here. I wonder if I have time to take out a bank loan, or remortgage my house, so I can prove my undying love to my wife with some incredibly expensive gift. I saw Cadillac is having a sale this week on their Escalades. My wife would look great in one with the black raven exterior, and the jet black interior. Maybe, I can even have them mount a five-carat diamond ring to the steering wheel.
Sorry for that little bit of sarcasm. I work hard all year trying to be a good husband. I’m tired of all the Valentine’s Day commercials trying to make me feel guilty, if I don’t spend a fortune on some lavish and expensive gift. Whatever happened to the simple hand-made card with “I Love You,” written in big red letters, the quiet, romantic dinner at a corner booth at Applebees, snuggling on the couch, and watching “Pretty Woman” or “Titanic” for the fortieth time?
Have you seen the Valentine’s Day commercial, where the guy hands his significant other a diamond ring that looks like a goose egg? It’s so big, it was probably pawned by a down on his luck rapper. As the woman stares in awe at the magnificent diamond, she turns to her partner, looks deeply into his eyes, gently caresses his forearm, holds the magnificent gem up to the light, and says, “Honey, I love you.” Just once I’d like to hear her say,
“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 have a few questions about Valentine’s Day. Maybe some of you can answer them. What’s with the naked baby as a symbol of love? I don’t know if it’s true, but legend says, if he shoots someone with an arrow, they will fall instantly in love with the next person they see. Oh, this is just great! Does this mean if I’m doing old widow Murphy’s lawn work, I better keep my eyes open for airborne infants with four-foot wing-spans who may propel sharp projectiles at my posterior?
“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.”
Why is Valentine’s Day about ridiculously expensive roses that are dead the next day, seven dollar cards, and stuffing ourselves with pounds of chocolate? Speaking of roses; have any of you run across those giant six-foot roses that are the hottest flower this year for Valentine’s Day? Supposedly, there is a valley, high in the mountains of Ecuador, in the shadow of a volcano. In the rich, fertile soil amid the scenic mountains, villagers grow these huge yet lovely flowers. They are then meticulously harvested and rushed by burro through perilous mountain passes to be available for Valentine’s Day.
What woman really wants or needs six-foot roses? Do they have thorns the size of kitchen knives? Where are you going to find a five foot tall, two-hundred pound vase? Do you fill the vase with a garden hose? I can tell you this. Once I get the thing drug over to a strategically placed corner, my wife better not say,
“Honey, could you please put the roses over on the coffee table? No, on second thought, they may look better on the dinning room table.”
Do you know what else is happening? With all our modern technology, some people are getting lazy when it comes to Valentine’s Day. February 14th’s supposed to be about celebrating friendship and romantic love, not how fast you can send an E-Mail. I read that over fifteen million E-Valentines were sent last year. Personally, I don’t think you should be telling the love of your life how you feel about them through E-Mails.
“Let’s see……how do I feel? This is tough. Okay, here goes. L-o-v-e y-o-u b-a-b-e. There, that wasn’t so bad. Now where is that darn send key?”
I even found a web site where you can buy pre-made love letters. Sounds pretty cold doesn’t it? Some poor nerd, with a good heart, who went to the prom with his cousin, is in a small, cramped room, drinking gallons of coffee. Toiling over a lap-top, he writes magnificent and wonderful words of love from the deepest part of his soul – and you’re the one getting all the action. Poor little nerd.