Will someone please be my valentine? I need someone to display their affection for me by buying me a big pink box full of sweets that will rot my teeth and add five centimetres of flab to my hips. Nothing says "I love you" like a giant red teddy bear you discovered during your perilous epic adventure full of peril at Wal-Mart and checked out through the express aisle on your perilled way home from work. I'll think of how special you are everytime I snuggle with this gorgeous ball of synthetic fibers that was mass manufactured just for me in exotic Taiwan. Or even better yet, pledge your undying and eternal faith to me by purchasing me a diamond! My eyes will light up like the sun when I open up that little velvety box and see a tiny stone gazing back up at me, gleaming brilliantly against the dull incandescent light and saying, "I complete you, Neal..." I would swoon, thank Jesus Christ, pray for our troops, and marry you before the sun bathed us in sinister darkness. Then we would run indoors hand and hand, turn on every light in the house, and immerse ourselves in the comfort and security our electrical appliances provide all night long. We would cook up enough SPAM to feed a hundred Sub-Saharan Africans and watch the country music channel for hours while we make up cutesy-wutesy phrases using Scrabble tiles and feed each other little candy hearts with charming notes on them that taste like blackboard chalk from the 19th century. Maybe we could even go to the theatre and see a romantic comedy that will challenge our bowels and leave us questioning the finer aspects of our bathroom habits. We may even go so far as to share a $10 bucket of popcorn and even sip from the same $5 medium soda. I could hardly imagine anything more romantic than sucking carbonated sugary syrup out of the same plastic straw as my valentine, or feeling my greasy fingers rummaging around with yours amongst the warm popcorn dripping with that tantalising artifical butter. ...Except, of course, a diamond. Then after the credits roll and we have left our seats we will make love very conservatively for the sole purpose of procreation and have five beautiful children and give each of them one million and three free smilies. We may even decide to leave the theatre first! I cannot possibly think of anything more romantic than Valentine's Day in a mass consumption society... can you?
I find it's very cathartic to mock that which goads my goat. It's like all-natural prune juice for a commercially constipated mind.
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On a separate trail, at a different time, in the opposite direction, wondering
Paws, reflect
- Timberwolf
- Here is my space to discuss what's on my mind, muse philosophically and sardonically, and rave or rant about the things that make me happy or piss me off.
2 comments:
That was definitely very amusing to read. It definitely made up for all those "I hate Valentine's Day" or the "I got 5 billion boxes of chocolate" or the "I hate being single" entries that I have read -everywhere-.
I think that if Valentine's Day is about celebrating love, then it should be celebrated every day, should it not? It's either that, or my own lack of experience is making me rather naive. Sure, I'd like to be with someone, but not because I want to celebrate commercial holidays with.
I dislike people feeling sorry for themselves because they don't have a Valentine. It's not that people shouldn't occasionally feel sorry for themselves or shouldn't feel lonely, but to feel lonely because it's Valentine's Day is irritating. Classifications like Valentine's Day and Xmas are annoying.
I enjoyed your choice of descriptions and adjectives. If I could have laughed out loud, or as old chat talk would say, "lol", I would have.
That's my two Canadian cents!
Holidays are peculiar things. Inevitably, they're intended to show appreciation to someone, and, courtesy of Hallmark, it's usually through "stuff." People go out and buy candy, flowers, cards, jewelry, toys... really, the list goes on and on. For weeks prior to the event, it seems every internet service provider runs articles or posts banners about choosing 'The Right Gift.' ...And, of course, every retailer in the hemisphere sets up a display, and the question comes up: "What do you want for (insert holiday, here)?" Christmas? Easter? Valentine's Day? Halloween? Your birthday? Heck, even the non-marketed holidays such as St. Patrick's Day, at least get a funny hat, a token card, or a little plushie for the occasion.
Believe it or not, I know a lot of people that don't care about that "stuff." I don't care about all of that "stuff." ...It's not what capitalism-spawned product you get, or whether you go to dinner at some fancy asian restaurant versus Dominos or popcorn at the theatre. Simply put, gifts are special when they come on time, and demonstrate the giver's thought. I suppose the implication is... "I knew this particular date was coming up, and I took the time and effort to plan this because I care." Now, maybe that's just calling someone on his/her birthday, without any reminders or hints. I consider that far more important than buying redundant stuff. And perhaps that's a bad example, but... oh, well. =P
Even my grandfather who made breakfast and placed little hearts with pictures of him and my grandmother glued onto the hearts around the table for my Grandmother didn't sweep her off of her feet because of construction paper and pancakes. He did something creative, thoughtful, and well-timed. ...That's appreciation. And when I heard about how my grandparents celebrated Valentine's day, it didn't seem quite as bad. But, then again, my Gingga and Pappaw are the same people who after 40-something years still call one another "my love," and whisper bits of poetry to one another each night before my grandpa heads off to work. ...I think it's sweet.
...But I'm still upset you didn't go out and buy me that $10,000.00 ring.
Not. =P
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