The modern iteration of this ancient holiday is about as romantic as a gun to the head, in which heaps and mounds of guilt are ladled onto the male of the species to purchase expensive gifts for his associate female. This guilt emanates regularly through TV commercials and sitcoms, movies and, I would hazard a guess—since all I can do is guess about this bilious environment I have never frequented—social media. So on February 13 I am to supposedly run out at the last minute to buy some over-priced trinket for my wife to prove how much I love her, when there is a pretty safe bet I have been something less than an attentive lover and husband during the other 364 days of the year.
How romantic.
To read the text-only version of this issue, go here.