I still hate Valentine’s Day

This is a repost of my missive ‘Why I Hate Valentine’s Day’ from last year. My blog was only a few months old at the time and this wasn’t likely seen by many people. Since my feelings about the day haven’t changed in the least, I figured I’d take the easy way out

I’m going to come right out and say it: I hate Valentine’s Day. Call me the Ebenezer Scrooge of Valentine’s Day if you want, but that statement is not blasphemous in the least. There is nothing sacred about this Hallmark holiday and as I have grown, and hopefully matured, I have less and less interest in the hoopla surrounding it, the unrealistic expectations pandered by those promoting it or those damn Jared commercials.

I don’t hate Valentine’s Day because of what it is supposed to represent, but rather because of what it has come to represent. A reason for so called marketing whizzes to tell me that I just don’t love my wife enough unless I spend my money on some ridiculous, and most likely poor quality, bauble and present it to her in a tiny little box adorned with a bow and some frilly ribbon.

Now you may be saying to yourself the reason that I hate Valentine’s Day is because of some nasty break up or traumatic event with which I have yet to reconcile despite my status as a happily married man with a family. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but nothing could be further from the truth.

I’m not exactly sure when I started feeling this way about Valentine’s Day, but it has certainly been a while. A good friend and I used to have Anti-Valentine’s Day dates in college where we would go to a Friday’s, or some similar establishment with a photograph filled bar menu, and proceed to order the most disgusting, syrupy sweet concoctions that the other was required to consume. With a menacing look in our eyes we would point to the picture of the drink selected for the next round, our unwitting waiter or waitress an accomplice in our otherwise ridiculous game. Each night ended with a sizeable bar tab and each morning greeted me with the worst hangovers I’ve ever had.

Still my true disdain for this fabricated holiday really took shape when my wife and I were away on our honeymoon. As my wife had to start a clinical rotation a week after our wedding, we delayed our honeymoon until she was finished her doctorate. We set sail for a week of fun in the Caribbean from Charleston harbor and dutifully planned activities for all our stops, except for our day in Cozumel, which happened to fall on Valentine’s Day. In retrospect this was the worst decision we made during our entire trip.

If you haven’t been to Cozumel there is pretty much nothing to do except walk up and down the main drag, eat and shop at one of the thousands of stores most of which promise you the best deals on gold and fine jewelry you will ever encounter in your life, EVER! And if you are lucky enough to be dealing with the manager – and pay cash – he’ll be happy to jack up your suckers discount to 70% off regular price. Such a deal!

Throughout our excursion into the heart of the Cozumel tourist trap we went in and out of a number of these jewelry stores. My wife looked at a number of different stones in a number of different settings, many of which I had never even heard of before. Having done extensive research before purchasing my wife’s engagement ring I was floored at the prices these otherwise unspectacular or just plain weird stones were fetching.

If there was something that really captured my wife’s eye, I would have been happy to get it for her. I even suggested that if she found a loose stone she was interested in we could buy it with the view of having me set it for her for an anniversary. In my mind this was also a great idea since the US government views any loose stones as rocks and therefore there are no import duties. I know what you’re thinking, I’m quite the romantic.

Maybe it was because we were knee deep in the renovation of our home, or maybe she was just being the practical girl she is, but she passed on a number of opportunities to purchase anything. No matter what the reason, I left Cozumel vowing to never return. I was irate over the relentless bombardment by the local charlatans. I mean, really, who are they to tell me that I must not love my wife because I wasn’t willing to purchase some newly discovered volcanic rock that is allegedly a scarce commodity.

It is believed that Valentine’s Day’s roots in romantic love go back to the days of Chaucer, and it is my belief that a return to those simpler days would be better for all involved. This year my wife is working on Valentine’s Day, but I will surely have whipped up something special for her for dinner when she arrives home. There may be a few carefully placed tulips set in a vase on the table. There will even be cards – one from me and one from our highly thoughtful infant son. But there will be no extravagant gifts, no tiny little box wrapped up in a metallic bow proclaiming that someone “went to Jared”.

We will celebrate the spirit of the day, but most importantly we will enjoy the time we get to spend together, as we do every other day of the year.