Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Romantivus: An Alternative To Valentine’s

Am I alone in feeling just a tiny bit turned off by St. Val’s Day? With all that pressure to perform in the shopping department, it’s like relishing the prospect of a cold shower.
OK, I might feel better after the shake down, I mean rub down. But am I being led by the nose rather than by some other appendage I’d rather be led by?
Of course, it’s a great feeling to give a present to a loved one and experience their appreciation. Letting each other know how much we care is the very worthwhile essence of St. Val’s.
But in the back of my mind there’s the image of romance being held hostage by a multi million dollar advertising campaign. We’re being leaned on heavily when it comes to how to celebrate. Cards, chocolates, jewelry, flowers, wine. Lots of red hearts. The usual things.
Maybe it’s time for a St. Val alternative. It could be called Romantivus, and celebrated any day you want, year round. Let’s say, the night of each lunar first quarter — or the nearest weekend.
Its colors could be any combination you find sexy. If a haze of purple and orange turns you on more than crimson, or if stripes of black and lemon yellow are your aphrodisiac, then go for it.
And why stick with those hearts? Weren’t kidneys considered the seat of passion in bygone times?
As for wine? Depending on the season, there’s a multitude of beverages that might put you in the mood just as well. Mead might work for a winter Romantivus. Tequila can be an inhibition buster when temperatures climb. At least opt for a vintage variant. Port, say, or sherry.
Chocolate? Well, that’s not so easy to substitute admittedly. But why not sample it in combination with something more daring? What that might be I’ll leave to your imagination.
A rebellion against the orthodoxy of St. Val will take time, it’s true. Romantivus will not be built in a day. So in the meantime, let’s all splash out on the same old bottles and bouquets, and dream. Come to think of it, that’s what St. Val’s is about anyway, isn’t it? Dreams, I mean.

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