Valentine's Day is no different. People that don't have a hope in hell of getting laid hate Valentine's Day. But hatred isn't enough. You need a reason to hate something. It's simply less humiliating to say that you hate Valentine's Day because it's too commercial, as opposed to saying that you dislike it because you can't score at the office bender.
People that hate holidays don't get it. When they see a Christmas party, a Valentine's card, or an Easter bunny, they immediately jump on the no-fun bandwagon and think that all of these things used to mean something ultra-serious. They take the high road and declare that we're too commercial, too modern, that somehow we corrupted something sacred. What bores.
For the losers: a) holidays are simply an excuse to party. b) why aren't you out helping the poor on Christmas Eve, rather than drinking our free booze and bitching about life until you're the last to leave the house? c) why are Christian holidays the only ones to take it on the chin from people that never step inside a church? I don't hear anyone saying how we've corrupted New Year's Eve or Halloween. Hanukkah, Canada Day, and the Fourth of July go by with nary a bitter word, but show someone an Easter bunny and suddenly they were outside the cave when Christ moved the rock.
I've got no problem with the idea that Jesus was born, then rose from the dead, and all the rest of it. If that's what you believe, go for it. And sure, I guess it's handy to know that some guy named Valentinus died in the 3rd century AD. But this isn't what I'm thinking about when I fill out the cards and put my friends' names on them (well, let's be honest; I send e-cards like everyone else). I may think about Christ and Val in private from time to time, but when it comes to being friendly with friends, I'm all about the "Merry Christmas. Pass the bottle." And there is nothing wrong with that.
Incidentally, there were three - or two, depending on where you get your info - of these Valentinus characters, and no one knows exactly what it is they did, or why one of them (or all of them) is a saint. Call it canonization by committee. One was a priest, one was a bishop, and one was a guy in Africa, back when Africa was the name of a Roman province. All of them lived and died in the 3rd century AD. Apparently they became martyrs, but again, no one knows why. To get past this little hurdle, Pope Gelasius I said that their works were "known only to God."
Gelasius I sounds like a party boy. He decreed the feast of St. Valentine in 496, and like any good party animal, he used an excuse that couldn't be impeached:
"Gel, why did you name this feast after Valentinus?"
"God knows."
Today's version:
"Sean, why did you tell people that it was okay to party in my living room and wreck the place?"
"Ask Gelasius I."
The roots of St. Valentine's Day will never be known, but we have some clues. Some argue it was used to supersede the pagan festival of Lupercalia, which was still being celebrated in 5th century Rome. Lupercalia was also known as Februatio, from the root word "februare," which means "to purify." The festival was celebrated on February 15th, and its beginnings may be older than the founding of Rome itself.
Luperci - a collection of pagan priests - would dress themselves in goatskin, then sacrifice two goats and a dog. They would then smear the sacrificial blood on two young Luperci, who were expected to laugh and smile at the gift. Then these two Luperci would take whips made from the dead animals and run around the city, using them to whip girls and women, who would line up for the honor. This, it was believed, would aid in fertility and ward off sterility.
Who knows how much of any of this is true. If you ask ten friends what happened at a party last weekend, you'll get an idea of how skeptical you should be of history, ancient or otherwise.
Anyway, by the 5th century, the pagan festival was outlawed and it was up to Gelasius I to kill the name outright. He did a good job. Today, everyone knows St. Valentine's Day, but nobody says too much about their local Luperci smearing them with goat blood. Still, we can thank the Romans and their bloody festivals for the name of the month in which St. Valentine's Day is celebrated.
February was the last month of the Roman calender (March, named after Mars, was the first), but no matter. February is our second month, and we use its 14th day as an excuse to finally get up the nerve to ask out the chick that comes into the coffee shop every morning. Should you decide to whip her with goat skin, I won't post your bail.
As for all of the people out there that are going to be ticked off about another Valentine's Day, in a word: relax. Seeing someone receive a card from Hallmark cannot be nearly as stressful as watching your mom get hit with a dead goat. And if you'd get off your butts and into the swing, you might just get some action this year. Buy a card, pick a flower, and tell the chick in aisle 9 that her dress looks nice.
Try it. No matter if your mood or your sensitivity training tells you differently, you might (just might) like it. And probably she will, too. Women must be getting tired of expecting something from men on Valentine's Day. According to the Greeting Card Association, a whopping 85% of all Valentine's cards are bought by women. If that's the case, competition facing an average guy for a woman's hand is so low as to be laughable.
So start laughing and enjoy the party. For once.
