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A Different Sort of Valentine . . .

Ben Boychuk at informs us that Valentine’s Day is old hat for some progressive Manhattan and university types. For those folks, there’s another thing beginning with the letter "V" that they’d rather celebrate every 14th of February and, yes, "Monologues" are part (but I’m sure, only a part) of the story. The "holiday’s" creator Eve Ensign (also the creator of the infamous "play") was asked what she thought of "V-Day" hitting the 10 year mark (who knew?!) and she had a few more "V" words to throw in . . . something about this being a great "victory" for women as they finally find their "voices" and blah . . . blah . . . blah . . . you get the idea. (If you don’t, follow the link to Ben’s post and you’ll get an earful.)

I’ve never been a great fan of Valentine’s Day . . . it always seemed so contrived and it seemed to create so many unrealistic expectations and unnecessary heartache (of course, these were opinions I had before I had responsibilities and spontaneity was easily and smugly extolled). But Valentine’s Day--corny as it has become--is looking pretty good to me by way of comparison with this . . . what do you call it? . . . "holiday?"

Discussions - 4 Comments

Thanks, Julie. Valentine's Day is fun. We don't go overboard, though. It is a feast day of a Catholic saint, after all.

But did you hear about Jane Fonda today? She said a very bad word on national television -- the verbal equivalent of a wardrobe malfunction. These are strange days, indeed.

I actualy look forward to Valentine's Day -in a "manly" way. It is a day that I can send my wife roses and cook a wonderful meal for us both. I find that it helps me refocus on the great gift of love from God that brings a man and a women together. Eh, and the chocolate truffle cheesecake was extraordinary!

Ah, George, you sound like a nice guy. When my husband stopped by the grocery store last night just after 5 (to get groceries for our nice meal) he recounted the surly guys around the harried florists, who were making last-minute bouquets. When the florist asked one man about his preference re: the bouquet, he shouted loudly, "I don't give a [expletive]" to the great approbation of the other guys in line. It's a day that brings out the best in the best, the worst in the worst, and some anxiety in those in between.

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