By the time this is available for you to read, thanks to the
wonder of scheduled posting, I will be in upper Manhattan, waiting for Rhea to
get out of class so that we may go for our Valentine's dinner over at our
beloved Tom's Restaurant. Just before
writing this post, I've put the finishing touches on tonight's gifts and
presentation. They're nothing big: a
small photo album with fifty-two carefully selected pictures from my hard drive
that I think do a good job of telling our story, and a DVD that thankfully just
finished downloading that you'll hear more about on Day Seven of this series. As for presentation, the t-shirt that I'll be
wearing under my hoodie would probably just look like some sort of retro-rock hipsterism to you, but Rhea - and only
Rhea - will get the joke. That, friends,
is where the magic lives in all of this.
It's a funny thing: back when I was younger and far more
doomed, I always pictured Valentine's Day after The Big Win as being bigger and
fancier somehow. Champagne and tuxedos
or something, I don't know. I suppose
it's easy to mythologize what you don't immediately have at your disposal. Now that it's here before me though, I
couldn't imagine doing anything other than what we've got planned tonight, save
for maybe the Love Castle, which we've done in years past. Why?
Well, folks, there's a secret to all of this - and unlike other folks
who've scored The Big Win and then play all their cards close to the vest, I'm
going to let you all in on it.
Ready? Here goes.
Valentine's Day is
actually meaningless. I'll give you
a moment to let that sink in.
Surprising, I know, coming from someone who's all in love and everything,
but it's the truth. How you treat your
loved one on Valentine's Day doesn't mean any more than how you treat them on,
say, the Wednesday afterword, or any other random day. At best, Valentine's Day is an excuse to
maybe pick up an extra gift, or wear a shirt that your lover will either love,
laugh at, or both, but that's all it is.
It's a kick up the backside at best.
If you can't find reasons to love and laugh the other 364 days
of the year, you have no business claiming to be in love no matter how great a
display you manage to put on for one day.
If you need to be told to do something special for your partner, you
have relationship problems that Hallmark can't solve. If you take the opportunity to act as loving
and goofy as you might any other day when you just happen to be in a
particularly good mood, then you're both into Valentine's Day and above it.
That's where Rhea and I are.
Quite frankly, dinner at Tom's - sometimes even with presents in tow -
happens often enough on days that aren't designated for love. If the supposed import of today served as a
catalyst for us to clear space in our schedules to make it happen tonight, then
good on it. I expect that tonight will
prove the best Valentine's Day we've had yet.
In fact, I expect that with such certainty that I've written this in
advance. I expect that next year will
top it. Ain't love grand?
It is, at that. It's
also worth fighting for and continuing to believe in even if it doesn't have
your number right now, no matter how obnoxious the hype is.
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