February 14, 2007
Be Mine

Some events in our life remain constant.  Like Valentine’s Day.  This Mileau first appeared on the Sentinel pages February 14, 1982.  Since then we’ve experienced roundabouts, I-Pods and blogs but Valentine’s Day remains much the same.

Valentine’s Day.  Another black hole when it comes to personal knowledge.  Valentine’s Day was for girls.  We males were convinced February 14^th was basically yuk, except for the chocolates Dad brought to Mom.  After a couple of years practice, I had the caramel locations in a Whitman Sampler memorized.  But if Dad went all out and bought a bouquet of roses the day was a total loss. 

The nadir of my valentine experience was getting a card surrounded by lace and signed by sweaty Virginia Johnson.  She sat behind me in fourth grade.  Especially embarrassing was the  “Be mine.” part.  It wasn’t until I received a valentine from my cousin it dawned Virginia wasn’t serious.  All valentines said, “Be mine.” 

One could assume Valentine’s Day was initiated by a greeting card company to end the first quarter sales slump.  What better method to keep manufacturing busy than to invent a holiday falling between Christmas and Easter?  This was especially true when Lincoln’s birthday proved not to be the card mover the folks in marketing had projected. 

The day is named for a priest called Valentine who was beheaded on February 14^th in either the 13^th or 14^th century.  Tales like this are more than a little suspect when the day is figured to a gnat’s eyelash but the year is plus or minus 200. 

As the story goes, Valentine was cooling his heels in a dungeon when he struck up a friendship with the jailer’s blind daughter, whose eyesight he restored.   

One is forced to admit the priest did indeed, “Care enough to send the very best.”  On the eve of his death he left a written message for the girl, “From your Valentine.”  If the good man had been truly aware of what he was causing with his creative efforts, he should have given the young lady a few quid and instructed her to purchase Hallmark stock for his estate.  The vows of poverty would certainly have soon ceased to be a problem. 

Because Valentine lost his head mooning over a blonde, he became the patron saint of lovers.  There must be a message in there somewhere but it sounds more like a warning. 

The ancient Romans also celebrated a festival on the 14^th of February in honor of their goddess, Juno Regina.  The name sounds like a Catholic girls school in Keokuk. 

During the Roman festival it was the practice for boys to draw by lot the names of girls, who became their partners for the day.  Whether this marked the start of Valentine’s Day is a point argued by historians, but all agree it’s the first mention of a singles bar. 

Early Christians wanted to abolish “this lewd custom of the heat-hen.”  Human nature made it impossible to eradicate the practice so church leaders gave it a Christian touch by substituting the names of saints for the names of girls.  This philosophy formed the foundation for modern theologic thought.  To wit, any act is most likely sinful unless, of course, you do it religiously. 

Valentine’s Day just doesn’t have the meaning it used to.  Back in my Midwestern dating days, the lady who became my wife always sent a Valentine via Colorado so it would have a Loveland postmark.  I wondered if that would occur this year.  Jan said it was a busy time.  But she had a bridge game scheduled out on the Redlands.  Would it be okay to mail the card from Fruita?