Valentines Day is just around the corner. (If Sunday night, Monday, and Tuesday can be a corner.) Media is again stumbling headlong into all the sharp objects called trite, hackneyed, and ridiculous. They are bleeding corny right now.
A long time ago I formed a pact with a girlfriend. She and I had bitched together about the commercialization of Valentines Day, the terrible stink of
obligation it had developed - and we agreed not to celebrate. I was reluctant, but she was adamant. She said Hallmark had ruined it for her years before, and damned if she was going to celebrate.
On Valentines Day we got together. As she came into my house she pulled out champagne and chocolates and thrust them into my arms. And then she stood smiling, waiting.
"But..." I began.
"I thought..." I ended.
Her face dropped, and she turned red. She pushed past me.
"We agreed..." I tried again.
"All the
more reason you should give me flowers!" She was truly angry. (I think 'insane' might be a better term.)
"You should say, 'no pact with my girlfriend is going to stop me from giving her roses on this single day dedicated to love!'"
It had been a test. I was utterly without response. I did not understand. I understood her point, but I thought it was a very bad one. In fact, I know it was a bad one. These passive aggressive leaps of logic and reason escape men. Even really intuitive ones like me.
There was no embrace. There was no hope of fixing this one on this night. And it eventually became clear that it was just a symptom of differences too great.
She's married now. Just not to me.
