This email arrives:
First of all I thought it was the 13th.
So once it sank in and, angrily bowing to peer pressure and consumerism I went to Interflora to buy flowers late today. There was a queue in the shop so ha, that’s that decision made for me I thought.
Went home and stupidly made a comment to the effect that I’m not bowing to convention and I didn’t get flowers to mark the day. However I did make a card with our son and all was good until the doorbell rang.
She answered it to … Interflora. The delivery lad looking for our neighbour got the wrong house.
Of course for a minute she thought …
I curse this day.
It’s hard to beat a religious holiday for making money. We’re not long after Christmas, the ultimate western spendfest commemorating the day Santa died on the cross to save the world, and we’re still only a little shy of Easter, the feast of Saint Chocolate, yet here comes another one. Bang in the middle of two expenditure-laden Christian extravaganzas, we have a little one, just to keep the ball rolling.
When I was a kid, Valentine’s Day was about rites of passage. It was about screwing up your courage, braving the risk of crushing rejection and sending little messages of endearment to whatever gimp you happened to be infatuated with. It rarely ended well, but at least it didn’t cost much, and it was never a thing grown adults got involved with, so when exactly did that change?
How did Valentine’s Day become a time when you were required, on pain of angry silences, to publicly proclaim your love for somebody else? Isn’t that a thing people ought to be doing all the time, and not just when some ad on the radio reminds them? Not only that, but aren’t there times when you just don’t feel like telling someone you love them? Aren’t there times when you don’t like being told what to do?
Yes. Of course there are and everyone knows it. But still, the marketing industry now has control of the Valentine’s Day franchise and they’re going to guilt you into doing their bidding, buying their wares and making them rich whether you like it or not.
It’s a wonderful thing when one person reaches out to another and says, You know, I think you’re the best in the world and I fukken love you. That’s just great. It’s so good that people should do it all the time, and not confine it to a particular day in February. It’s not so great, however, if they have an emotional advertising gun pointed at their heads: Be spontaneous. Now!!
Hey guys, we all know what that does. Right?
That sort of affection display is about as spontaneous as the rhythm method and just about as fulfilling. Where did I put that thermometer?
To my mind, Valentine’s Day, along with Christmas and Easter, are the ultimate examples of the marketing industry leveraging Catholic guilt in order to make lots of money.
Don’t believe this shit, folks. Don’t buy the flowers and don’t demand the flowers. Don’t lay guilt on your loved-one’s head.
Just go on lovin’ any old day of the year, enjoy your life together and tell these marketing fools to take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut.
Don’t dance to their cynical tune. Instead of making them rich, make yourself rich by celebrating the spirit of love whenever it feels right for you.