By Judith Gayle | Political Waves
Happy Valentine’s Day! The day when flower growers and designers, candy makers and sellers, jewelry store and spa owners rub their hands in glee. The day that most men remember at the last minute and, if they’re smart, find something to cart home to the honey, while most women have orchestrated the remembrances, cards and tokens of affection well in advance.
The mythology is that Valentine’s is the day when each of us either reaps the dividends of being loved or stands out in the cold, looking in. This usually has little to do with worthiness and more to do with being partnered. I’ve always thought this holiday had a kind of awkward, sadistic quality, like a national Sadie Hawkins Dance that had the ability to turn into the gym scene in Stephen King’s Carrie.
Still, it comes every February with regularity and so, blessed are the hooked up. As with New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day provides a relationship perk that means this pivotal date-night is taken care of; at least in theory. How well we do with this quiet little February event may also answer the question of whether the relationship is still viable in April and May.
Flower delivery, it turns out, is problematic this year. If you’re not familiar with your local flower shop, turning instead to an 800-line or advertiser, you may not get anything close to what is being promoted in pictures and pamphlets. This is particularly problematic if roses were promised and peonies delivered; worse, chrysanthemums, the kind your dear old Granny grows in her garden. On the other hand, flowers of any kind delivered in a bitter February should not be sneezed at. Not only are they a rare delight when the snow is blowing, they can be displayed in a window to let the world know someone thinks you’re IT: highly coveted. The recent problems with delivery indicate that those who want value for their buck need to hand-deliver or, perhaps, select another gift.