Valentine's Day

 

I recently learned two things about yesterday's "lover's lame"—also known as St. Valentine's Day: One, fifteen percent of women send themselves a Valentine's card; and two, those cards were part of the 900 million sent out on this occasion. My source for this gem comes from my second favourite book (please refer to last week's column for its title).

These figures are based on American consumers. If you want to do the Canadian math, the conversion would be 1.5% of Canadian women and there would be 90 million cards. The first number I can comprehend; the second, well, I don't know. When there are only thirty-three million people (more or less) in the Dominion, that means three cards, per person, coming and going.

Methinks that on either side of the 49^th parallel, there's a whole lot of wishful thinking going on—and it might start with the card companies themselves.

You may recall some years ago my rant about the fallacies and stresses of Valentine's Day. Good on you: I certainly can't recall what I said about it then, but I know what I think about it still: On the one hand, it's good for the lovers of the world, but, on the other hand, it puts all sorts of undue pressure on the widowed, the dying, the dumped, as well as those struggling in loveless relationships.

The same could be said about the Christmas season, because there is much of the same subtle (and not-so-subtle) pressure placed on the same types of people.

Hallmark Cards and other purveyors of romantic stationary are possibly to blame, if, in fact, we feel the urge to blame anyone. And big box retail stores do a brisk business around Valentine's Day, breaking the monotonous routine of the post-Christmas and pre-Easter period.

But I think the biggest culprit (drum roll, please) remains Hollywood, that cinematic cesspool and one of my favourite whipping boys. And it really doesn't matter if it is television, movies, or DVD's. I agree, no one makes anyone else watch the tube; there is no gun placed at one's head to force them to go to a local theatre; and renting raunchy DVD's is not the law. But there is a lot of peer pressure to watch and enjoy the latest offering on the altar of the (very) liberal arts.

My angst is the message these mediums send. Unfortunately, I understand (note the wording) that even so-called Christian romance novels dole out the same tripe. Presenting love, affection, and intimacy in such a way that hopes are dashed and hearts are defrauded is really, really dangerous. When love is seen as strictly physical, immediate, and sexual, there is some serious misleading going on.

True love waits; true love restrains; true love places the other person's needs and desires first. I would humbly suggest that you read a chapter of the Good Book (I Corinthians 13, to be precise) in a modern version. I think you would be amazed and moved at what true love should look like; then, if you're up to it, use that text as a measuring stick for every token love out there. I think you might come away from the "love test" feeling embittered and cheated, but possibly motivated to do something positive about it.

Valentine's Day reminds me that we need to be training our young people more effectively, at least when it comes to how they should treat each other. A wrong view of women, for instance, leads to all sorts of devious moral practices. To be fair, a warped view of men likewise leads to twisted expectations and frustrations. Cyber porn, domestic violence, and child abuse can easily be the result, thus becoming a serious financial, social, and spiritual strain on our society.

And you thought it was merely a card here, and card there (and then another one, to make up for the third card). Well, as usual, done right, with the right motive, to the one-and-only person, a Valentine's Day is a great idea. I'm torn between being stupid and Cupid. And I'm still not sure how you can tell three separate people that they are the special one in your life.

Unless you send two of them back to yourself.