Special Ingredients: Valentine's Day Manicure

So I’m making a card that consists of more sap than a maple forest, partly because I'm too cheap to pay the two dollars for the store-bought Hallmarkery, but mostly because I want to put the extra effort into it because it’s for my darling girlfriend, and I want to prove to her that I love her, even though I consistently show her this countless ways over the course of the year by not having sex with other women.

This isn’t enough when Valentine’s Day rolls around. For men everywhere, nothing they do on a day-to-day basis is enough, even if they construct entire houses at the whim of their significant other.

Every American male knows that February 14th means one of two things: 1) they desperately long for someone to share this special day with, or 2) they wish they didn't have to waste this special day on overpriced candy, flowers, and dinners. Don’t think you can get out of this, either. If you decide to skip this day, you’re going to have to be your own Special Valentine later that evening, all by yourself, if you catch my drift.

The history of Valentine’s Day is a rather fine mish-mash of history and legend, meaning it’s the perfect sort of holiday for corporations to pillage without being accused ruining the original meaning. The aspect involving coupling started in Rome, where it was customary for boys and girls to live apart most of their lives to avoid the spread of cooties. Traditionally, February 14th was the day to honor Juno, the queen of the Roman gods and goddesses. We now see where our Valentine’s Day started taking shape.

It was a tradition for the girls to put their names in a box, from which the boys would draw, and whoever they picked had to stay with the boy for that year. A girlfriend who was required to stay with you for an entire year! If the world was really controlled by men, then you better believe this tradition would have stayed around.

No one can agree on who the actual Saint Valentine was or what he did that was so important, but it always involves him standing up against authority in the name of justice and getting his head whacked off. That’s why modern men just give their significant others candy and flowers, which doesn’t involve losing vital body parts.

So we can easily see the natural progression from forced relationships and chopping of heads to our modern Valentine’s Day. In fact, on a basic level, they’re pretty similar, but the progress is a little different. The major difference is that men, without the aid of a box of names, desperately seek out women, who, for the record, control the relationship from the point they accept the man’s pitiful pleas. And if the man forgets Very Important Days like birthdays, anniversaries, tax days, and, of course, Valentine’s Day, it’s off with their heads.

(Please note I’m tactfully reframing from making a joke about how remembering Valentine’s Day can result in the man receiving a special present involving a head)

The one advantage men have with Valentine’s Day is, unlike anniversaries, it’s clearly advertised everywhere, the Vital Message shoved down their throats in a similar fashion as those chalky candy hearts. Just try to forget about Valentine’s Day. Next, you’ll say you had no idea when Christmas is coming around (this year’s season starts mid-April).

The corporations are the only reason we still celebrate a semblance of this old Pagan holiday (just like Halloween and, some argue, Christmas). It probably started pretty simply. Some candy, greeting card, or flower company (I’m looking a Hallmark here) decided they wanted to make more money, so they looked through the history books for some kind of ancient tradition they could cash in on and stumbled on the old Roman custom and a mutilated version of the Saint Valentine story. They looked at each other and said, “This could work…”

So now we’ve expected to give, as a token of affection, boxes of candy, flowers, stuffed animals, greeting cards, bowling balls, disposable enemas, and other heart- or love-themed trinkets that have no practical function other than artificially inflating the economy. And women EXPECT their man to follow this ritual, for no other excuse than it’s Valentine’s Day, so buy candy or sleep on the couch. Why do women get so obsessed with this materialistic corporate sham? Beats me, though I have a feeling they just like getting stuff.

I have a girlfriend, so it goes without saying that I have to celebrate Valentine’s Day. While I’m not very enthusiastic about the holiday, I’m not completely opposed to it. In elementary school, for example, it was a tradition to give out those flimsy, licensed character-themed Valentine’s Day cards that were purchased in bulk. This was the one time of year that we pretended to like each other, or else we would have been kept in for recess.

In fifth grade, the class had a Valentine card box design contest. With the valiant efforts of my mother, my entry, a Valentine-theme robot whose mouth served as the card slot, won “Most Creative,” earning me a giant Hershey’s Kiss, which, to my knowledge, was never eaten, and may still be at large. The other prize was the privilege to come back and judge next year’s contest, an honor, I am proud to say, has never been matched in my life.

Fast forward to today. Now, while I think Valentine’s Day is an evil corporate scam, I enjoy having an excuse to do something special with my girlfriend. By no means do we love each other any more for just that one day, and by no means does that day result in anything life-altering, but it’s nice to have it there.

And I think that’s the meaning we can all get out of this. Even if the purpose of the holiday was originally designed to force teenagers to date each other and was later converted over to siphon money from love-stricken suckers, Valentine’s Day can give couples a reason to show their love for each other, at least a little more openly. Of course, if Valentine’s Day is the only time a couple shows their love for each other, they’re just kidding themselves, but we won’t go into that, because I have to get this card done, since I’m fond of keeping my head attached.