After years of observation and experience, it is safe to assume one thing about St. Valentine (or the numerous St. Valentines): everyone still hates him and one way or another wants him dead. Again.
Men of today want him re-dead because he costs them valuable money they could spend on beer, video games, or a flat-screen TV. Women want him re-martyred because they think that the men are going to kill him (again) anyway, though they hope that the conjectured belief of the Saint's life shines through anyway. Safe to say, people think they'd be happier without the commercial observation of Saint Valentine's death. Some think they'd be even happier without love or companionship.
I'm kind of a rebel to this philosophy. I love Valentine's Day and I love love. When this "holiday" comes around, I get more than a little excited, solely because I realize that it's not about me. It is about making the person (or people) you love feel special, reminding them that you care and, if you're committed, that you still find them desirable. When I walk through a retailer in January and early February, I don't think about what I should/could get from the racks or how I'd love to smash a glass heart vase, I think of how much my mother would love the heart shaped box of Almond Joy chocolates, or how one of my friends would laugh at the 8 X 10 Snoopy valentine card. The joy of giving and seeing others smile is what it should be about, not necessarily who should get you what and how much they should spend.
Your boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife could give you a break from chores as opposed to a new watch or bottle of cologne and the meaning would be just the same. Your partner could spend time with you and that would mean so much more than spending $80 on a dinner that barely filled either of you. Gifting is great; I enjoy giving and receiving gifts. But I'd rather have a kind offering than a gift from obligation, any day.
This is where the wires seem to get get crossed. I feel
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