Banishing the Corporate Cupid

"This year I encountered something close to Truth in Advertising. The De Beers people used to say, "Diamonds are Forever." But now their ad says, "Diamonds Will Render Her Speechless." Why don’t they just come out and say, "Diamonds--That'll Shut Her Up!" ... Comedian Ron White, "Blue Collar Comedy Tour" ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Looking back over some of my past musings, I’ve noticed that a number of them are inspired by holidays. With Valentine’s Day inching ever closer, I figure I'd better get a move on if I want to impart any thoughts on it.... and, contrary to what readers may have come to expect, I’m about to side with the men on this one, ladies. Surprised? Let me preface this by saying that I am not one of my gender that anticipates this day for weeks or months on end. I don’t expect expensive gifts. I’m happy with a card but would prefer something handwritten. Write it on a napkin or the flap of an empty cereal box, I don’t care. At the very least, write it on toilet paper. You spend enough time in there to compose at least a few years' worth of poems at a time - well, at least you could if there were enough toilet paper on the roll, right? DON’T say you weren’t warned. Anyway, an honest conveying of some true sentiment is all I really want. Men, however, cannot understand this. They are conditioned from birth to believe that the more debt they incur, the more they love us. Ummm.... wrong! I really don’t get the warm fuzzies from a year of minimum payments. I’ve become aware that society, in general, is of no help to men when it comes to Valentine’s Day. This day seems to rack up more contradictions than I can count - and women are partly responsible for at least a few. We spend ridiculous amounts of time counting calories, doing the “bathroom scale bunny hop” and staring at our butts in the mirror as if those visual daggers we’re throwing might slice off actual inches here and there. We’ve all heard the “honey, do I look fat in these jeans?” jokes. Yet, along comes Valentine’s Day and the universal bitching of “He can’t even buy me a lousy heart-shaped box of chocolates???” Then, when he gives the very confused - yet very honest - “but sweetie... you just told me last week that you want to be down a few sizes by bathing suit weather”, he gets slammed with the logic that we only wanted the pretty box as a souvenir. We were going to use it to store all the toilet paper tributes we were sure to be receiving over the rest of the year. We weren’t going to actually eat the chocolates! *gasp* Of COURSE not. They would just gradually disappear over a few days and we would have no choice but to blame the kids. Magazines, commercials, radio and tv shows all bombard men with the “true picture” of “what she really wants” this Valentine’s Day. From what I can tell, we’ll all be basking in the comfort of our luxurious hotel rooms, perhaps languishing in the in-room Jacuzzi, while drinking perfectly chilled wine from the best crystal, inhaling the soothing scents of aromatherapy candles and occasionally peeling off wet rose petals that insist on gluing themselves to our skin. Waiting on the crisp bed linens, loving dusted with honey powder, a beautifully wrapped box cuddling the perfect piece of jewellery. In the kitchenette, he will be capably preparing a sensuous meal, balancing just the right number of aphrodisiac ingredients with the correct amount of dark chocolate....... *knock, knock* HI YA! :) Welcome back to the real world. Glad you could join me. What this woman really wants for Valentine’s Day is to finish work early so she can spend a relaxing evening with the most important man in her life. A little take-out food (“no cooking” is always a gift in itself), a few drinks and maybe a romantic movie on tv. Men, contrary to what they may say any other time, are always good sports about chick flicks on Valentine’s Day. Last year, doing my very best, I miraculously finished work on schedule, he took care of picking up food, drinks were available and all we had to do was find that perfect something on TV. What, to my dismay, did network nitwits offer as the best programming choice to help men everywhere create the ambiance for the special evening? A two-hour special of “COPS” on the thoroughly loving and appropriate subject of domestic violence. Poor boys, poor boys, whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when we mess it up for you? Dangle a carrot in front of a rabbit and what is guaranteed to happen? He watched the show, I took a bath - sans swirly water, bubbles, candles or rose petals. Not because he insisted. I did.... because it was Valentine’s Day and he’d had enough stress as it was. I got the hand-made card. I got the e-card with a personal message that made me cry. So, he got the TV. For my part, I’ll keep trying to make it easy on him - and just make sure we’re stocked up on toilet paper straight through every February 14th.