And with such a masterful act of marketing cunning and genius, a plan of attack that would do any great General proud, the capitalist assault on the shores of humanity began. V Day has begun. Like the storming of the Allied forces on the beachs of Omaha Beach that was dubbed D Day, this is much like the same thing.
It makes me sick to tell the truth. As someone who despises the days of commercial bred gift giving such as Mothers Day, Fathers Day, and Christmas, Valentines Day is no exception. Just like those two day a year Christians who attempt to validate their own beliefs and religeous existance by attending church 2 days a year (Easter and Christmas), I hate the similar gestures that many men (and women) only pull out the stops to impress their partner on these brand sponsered annual events that really hold no damn meaning to the couple at all. In effect it has the tone of “I’m treating you so well today because the marketing campaigns of the world tell me to”. And for many couples, not all mind you, this is done purely because of the burden of expectation.
I am a cynic, but I am not bitter. So let me clarify that first of the bat. I am a romantic at heart, as most who know me would be well aware of. But Valentines day shits me. Just like Mothers Day etc etc….
If there is one thing I hate, it is the burden of expectation. And what a burden it is. Women in general are hopeless romantics, fed from birth by tales of romance or what is perceived as romance. The things that make women swoon and sigh are dictated to them from an early age by all forms of worldly mass media and communication streams. Women float through life hoping to be hit by cupids arrow. Men well… cupid is nothing more than a floating target for a redneck hunting party.
There is a fear for men that they will never be able to live up to their partners expectations for V day. Men get screwed the hardest as the burden of preparation is on us to do something for our partners, token or otherwise. Whether it be something as simple as a single red rose, or ranging through to a romatic gondola ride down the river tilled by some fat Italian twat in a hat, the pressure is on us to do something, anything. And that should we be unable to pull a rabbit out of our ass, our partner will be secretly disappointed.
That being said I do respect the individuals that put in the effort, the hard yards to do something special. It is very commendable as effort is something that is in short supply. But I ask that they do it to commemorate the love for their partner and not for honour of the 14th day of the 2nd month of every year.
And as big the critical cynic that I am, I feel a slave to this day. This year I just got my darling a big bouquet of flowers that I specially ordered. And I wanted to do more but its just a tough time and the wallet is tight. Especially given that our Anniversary was just a month ago. A mans wallet is not a bottomless pit, and that is not an invitation for women to reach in and verify that.
Erica, god bless her cotton socks, expected nothing of me. She has forewarned me that she has no need for me to do or purchase anything for her. She doesn’t need me to do anything. Now as everyone would have learned in rookie economics 101, is that the people are governed by two things, needs and wants. This is what is to life that gravity is to physics. She doesn’t need me to do anything, but sure as sugar she would want me too. Now she knows that its unnecessary and that its a little silly to spend even more money on something that is so largely unimportant. But that is not to say that deep down she does not secretly want a token gesture in recognition of the day.
And I appreciate that, its natural. Just the same as me telling her that I don’t need anything for my birthday, as long as I have her. Deep down I nurse a secret hope that I’ll get like the best fantabulous gift ever! It does not mean that I am unhappy with nothing, its just the normal human want for something else.
I am a slave to this day. And unless I can cut out the seed or sapling since planted in the youth of every woman, which has now blossomed into a full grown tree of secret hope and expectation, I will remained shackled. So baby, Happy Valentines Day (for yesterday) and I hope you liked the flowers. It is the most expensive bouquet of flowers I’ve bought for any woman (or man), which for me is saying something! And I was planning to take you away for the weekend, but unfortunately since your parents are coming to visit, I cannot. However I give you my IOU and keep your eyes forward for it has all been planned, and it will be great
To my dearest Erica, I love you with all my heart, and every cynical whiney bone in my body.
To St Valentine, I hate you. Prick…
Edit: And here is a pic of said flowers for my baby. Bit disappointed actually as I had them specially pre-ordered and customised so didn’t get to see the end result until I picked it up on the day. Grrrr….