Valentine’s Day.

I am firmly in the “Valentine’s Day is a fabricated holiday” camp. I’m in this camp mainly because I’m a man but also because it really is fabricated. There were like five different Saint Valentines and we don’t know much about any of them. Legend has it that the first Saint Valentine started the tradition by miraculously turning a dozen wilted roses into $29.99. Supermarkets have repeated this feat every year since. It used to be a religious feast day but was kicked out of the liturgical calendar for being super lame. A man named Hallmark found it abandoned on the side of road, shivering and malnourished, and was so moved with pity that he decided to enslave and exploit it. Ah romance. 

That said, I was still out at the mall on Valentine’s Day eve with all the other male stereotypes lumbering like clueless gorillas down the greeting card aisle. I was still standing in front of the glass counter at the jewelry store talking to the wily female sales rep who’s trying to exploit my guy-ness by showing me the “great deal” on the 12 thousand dollar bracelet encrusted with diamonds mined from Pluto. I still had to stand in line behind that teenager making the mistake of setting the bar way too high for himself by purchasing an unreasonably expensive gift for a girl he just started dating and who will likely break up with him before summer break. 

I think Valentine’s Day is a contrived pseudo holiday but I observe it because A) it’s not about me. Also B) I’m not going to be the loser who puts my wife in the position of having to explain to the females in her life that I didn’t do anything for her for Valentine’s Day because I “don’t believe in it”. Hell, birthdays are ridiculous also. Mother’s Day is even more invented than Valentine’s. But I’m still going to call my Mom and send her a gift when that made-up occasion rolls around. You know why? Because I may be psychologically unstable but I ain’t stupid. 

There are already enough evils in society to fight. I’m not going to martyr myself to oppose a few contrite societal conventions. Some fights aren’t worth fighting, fellas. And if you’re married you know that by “some” I mean “most”. 

Plus my wife is pregnant with two of my children. Now’s not the time for me to hop on the Valentine’s Day boycott bandwagon.

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