There’s a holiday this month. Several, actually, including a few you probably aren’t familiar with.. for instance, tomorrow is The Day the Music Died day. It marks the anniversary of the plane crash which killed Richie Valens, Buddy Holly, and the Big Bopper. The 4th is Thank a Mailman day. For those of you who SEE your mailman (ours is a stealthy Ninja trained by Bruce Lee himself), be sure to thank him/her for the awesome job they do of regaling your mailbox with bills, junkmail, and the occasional awesomeness. The 9th of February is Toothache Day. Yeah, I don’t wanna know either. The 5th is National Weatherman’s Day. You’re supposed to be kind and thank them. I think many of you have a very different idea of how to celebrate that day given the massive blizzard affecting so many Americans right now. The 6th is Lame Duck day, a day many Weathermen may find themselves celebrating after this current whopper of a storm. Be kind. They’re just the messengers.
But there’s another holiday this month, on the 14th. It’s Clean out your Computer Day, right? Or.. is it Ferris Wheel Day? Or maybe even Organ Donor Day? Cuz I mean, you’d totally get flowers and candy for donating an organ, right? And a card. A cheesy stupid card with a cartoon mouse wishing you all the best as you nursed yourself back to health.
Oh, wait. It’s … it’s… V…. Vale… ergh.. Valen… taking a DEEP Breath. It’s VALENTINE’S Day.
With Valentine’s Day, there are two camps. You love the day or you hate the day. I’m in the latter. And it’s not because I am single and have no one to celebrate with. No, I’m married.
Yes, guys, I’m a married woman who DOES NOT REQUIRE NOR EXPECT her husband to get her anything on Valentine’s Day. In fact, I’d be upset if he DID get me something for the 14th of February.
Valentine’s Day as it stands today is a complete and total farce.
Then we move forward into Roman times when Luperci was celebrated. Priests took an animal to sacrifice, typically a goat. The goat was sacrificed, cut into strips, dipped in blood, and then they went out into the streets to smack women and crops with said strips. Back then, it was an honor to be smacked by the bloody goat strips as it was believed to increase your fertility for the following year. These days? I believe smacking someone with a bloody goat strip would get you knocked the eff out.
The Romans had another interesting tradition. They placed the names of unwed women into an urn and the men would choose names. Often these matches would result in marriage.
Mass produced cards did not start until the end of the 18th century.
And that is when Valentine’s went to hell.
Ladies – do you know that WE, WE, NOT MEN, account for 85% of all Valentine’s purchases?
What the hell, ladies? If you’re GOING to celebrate it, at least equalize that number a smidge.
I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.
Because if my husband only tells me once a year how much he loves me, we need counseling. Everyday is my Valentine’s Day. Not the day Hallmark decides should be Valentine’s. Not the day that history has decided to set aside for us.
Why should February the 14th be any different than February the 13th or February the 15th?
My birthday is special because well, it’s the day I was born.
Christmas is special because it’s an integral part of my faith. (I also have very non-commercial views about Christmas too.)
The Fourth of July is special because it’s when we celebrate our country’s independence – even though the date itself is not when Congress actually adopted the Declaration of Independence (that’s the 2nd).
Valentine’s is a crock of hooey.
I don’t love my husband anymore on the 14th than I do on the 15th or the 13th.
Wanna know what holiday in February I will be celebrating this year?
Yes. It’s real. It’s copyrighted. It’s completely fictitious. But it’s about fun. And goofiness.
I LOVE me some fun and goofiness.
So on February the 20th, I’ll be outside, waving my hands over my head, screaming Hoodie Hoo at the top of my lungs.
And then I’m going back inside to eat some Cherry Pie for Cherry Pie Day cuz that’s how I roll.
How about you?