Beware the Ides of February kids, and remember the Man in your youth, or the crap that you done back then will bite you in the arse. That’s Shakespeare, right there, he wrote the Bible, so he knows a few things about love.
Fathom my surprise when upon looking at the little kitty calendar that resides upon my refrigerator I realized today is Valentine's Day. The day of love and romance, and little bitty pieces of candy that say things like “Be Mine” and “True Love” and “Don’t Forget To Take Out The Trash, You Bozo!”
It is a day that brings up cursing for me. For when I was but young, and foolish, I thought the day was special and treated it as such. These were the days before marriage, when I was but courting my sweet, precious wife, and we lived miles apart – her being in graduate school in Indiana, and me working diligently in Oak Ridge, Tennessee.
During those days of yore, I was unable to be with my sweet, dear one for the big day of love and mushiness, nor would I even be able to visit for the few weeks before or after. It was then that I hatched a plan so romantical, the world would never believe it.
I created the Fourteen Days of Valentine. No, one day just wasn’t enough for the likes of me and my baby. I would give her one gift every day starting on the First of February and lasting until St. Valentine himself puked up a lung.
All though January I worked upon my secret romancings. I arrived at her doorstep a few days before February loaded with fourteen boxes, all carefully marked with the appropriate day for her to open. She was surprised and elated and I believed I was set for life.