(sing) Let’s talk about love, baby
Let’s talk about you and me
Let’s talk about all the good things and the bad things
That may be
Let’s talk about love
Let’s talk about love (stop singing)
Okay, so I may have changed the words a little but as it’s almost St. Valentine’s day I don’t want to
mention the word s.e.x. It’s the other four letter word we’re interested in today - love, baby. You
might think that Valentine’s day is a right rip off. A chance for Mr. Hallmark to rake in extra moolah
and that it’s just another commercial racket. And you’d be right, of course. But it makes no
difference, it still comes around, one day out of 365 and tickles you under the chin with a chocolate
covered teddy bear. Red roses, ribbons, flowers, teddy bears, chocolates. Pink and rosy, red and
cheeky. Valentine’s day is here again.
Personally, I like it. Nay. In the spirit of the event, I’m claiming that I love it. I guess I’m just an old
romantic fool at heart but I really make a fuss of my Valentine. I’ll send him flowers and chocolates.
I’ll present him with a handmade card covered in glitter and crepe paper with a slushy poem inside. I’ll
wine and dine him on the evening, and this year, I have theatre tickets as a Valentine surprise. Yes, I
really lurve Valentine’s day. Does anyone else
Perhaps it really is as naff as some people claim it to be. I remember that my teenage years were filled
with Valentine angst every February 14th, hoping and waiting that someone, anyone, would send me
just one card. Usually I got lucky and there it would be, sitting on the doormat waiting for me to open
it. I knew I’d fall in love immediately with whoever had sent me the card but this caused a lot of
confusion for me as I was growing up, as none of the cards ever had a signature inside them. I almost
always had a crush going on at least one of the boys at school and assumed it must have been my latest
love interest who had sent me the card, but he always seemed so modest about admitting it. Whatever
the truth was, receiving a Valentine card gave me inspired confidence to start up conversations with
these spotty youths and I did, usually, get a date out of it. In the end. After a lot of perseverance. And
bribing them with a peek at my brother'’s football cards
It was only in the last couple of years that my mother admitted she’d been sending me the blank cards
year after year because she couldn’t bear to see me so upset when I didn’t receive a card! Have you
ever felt that your life had been squashed down to nothing? Well, I tell you, when she told me this, I
was distraught. My teenage years had been a lie, after all. It made me wonder how many cards which
my friends received had in fact been sent by over anxious mothers instead of the hormone crazed
yobbos with names like Dazzo and Spike that we thought had sent them.
I hope that whatever you do this Valentine’s day and whoever you do it with, that St. Valentine will
look down upon you kindly and that Cupid’s arrow aims straight, hits you in the right place and doesn’t
hurt too much. And if you should receive an anonymous Valentine card and you’re wondering who it’s
from, well, you may just want to ask your mother first.
Glenda Young is also the authoress of the
weekly Coronation
Street Update on the net, and can be contacted at: