The world needs love more than ever. So please read the following semi-biographical piece on the subject of Valentine's cards. (That’s the best link I can offer).
My first Valentine situation occurred when I was at primary school in the 1970s. A girl came up to me as I was about to leave for home and handed me an envelope with a valentine card inside. She made it clear the card was from her. This action broke the anonymity rule of valentines in a big way. More importantly, it was a gesture that had to be reciprocated. And I would not be able to use the ‘don't-know-who-I’m-supposed-to-reciprocate-to’ excuse. The girl lived near me so I could deliver the Valentine in person. However, my home was miles from town and we didn’t have a car, so there was no chance of buying a card on the day – and that meant trouble as this was Valentine’s Day.
My mother learned of my predicament as soon as I arrived home. She thought for a moment, then went to a drawer and pulled out a selection of ancient birthday and Christmas cards. One of them apparently served as both a birthday and Christmas card for it had roses and sprigs of holly on its cover. It was huge, too big to be placed in an ordinary envelope. Inside, a personal message had been written on the page opposite the card’s verse. My mother carefully removed the handwritten part, leaving a greeting that wished the recipient ‘…a joyous day and peace throughout the coming year’.
Maybe, just maybe, this would pass as a Valentine – if the girl didn’t notice that it was a twenty-year-old, second-hand Christmas card that came delivered in a tatty shopping bag. Later, I knocked on her door; she answered and I handed her the shopping bag. She pulled the card out and proceeded to gaze at it, her face full of delight. This left me with the (incorrect) impression that women are easily pleased.
A few years and a new girlfriend later, my shyness had made buying a Valentine card in person difficult, so I asked a friend if they would purchase one for me. I soon learned that asking this friend to buy a Valentine came with a major drawback: Their taste in cards didn’t match mine – or any other human. The chosen card featured a vintage car on the cover which made it look suspiciously like something a woman would send to a man. I posted the Valentine and hoped the girl was a fan of vintage cars.
My friend was called into action again the following year. My previous girlfriend – who had not turned out to be a fan of vintage cars – had left me and I needed one for my new sweetheart. Surely this time, the Valentine would be more relevant than one displaying an old banger. Surely not. This card had an elephant on its cover. An elephant. They are wonderful creatures, but in my opinion, elephants come just above Wookiees near the bottom of the romantic animal league. Although it was a humorous card, I wasn’t laughing – and neither was my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.
In an effort to stop girls deserting me, I decided to buy my own cards from then on. And I made sure that I never, ever gave a Valentine that featured an elephant driving an old car with a sprig of holly on the bumper.
© John E. McBride (2017)
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