Love In The First Degree

Valentine’s Day is a crime against common sense

Friday • February 13, 2009

PHIN WONG

plus editor phin@mediacorp.com.sg



VALENTINE’S Day. Good gosh, I can’t even type the words without throwing up a little in my mouth.

Remind me not to have curry for lunch again. It burns the back of the throat.

“Are you going to be celebrating Valentine’s Day?” a friend SMSed, quite innocently.

“No,” I replied, right after I had swallowed my meal for the second time. “I hate Valentine’s Day and the stupid couples who dress in stupid colour-coordinated outfits with their stupid bouquets and their stupid stuffed toys and their stupid public displays of affection.”

“Hahahahahahaha,” she replied, “You’re funny.”

Darn it, woman, I was being serious.

Love is often viewed through the eyes of the insane. Okay, that’s not entirely true. Love is also sometimes viewed through the eyes of the really dumb.

Take, for example, that incongruous Eagles song, Love Will Keep Us Alive. “I was standing all alone against the world outside, you were searching for a place to hide,” the dude sings. How lovely — he’s a social misfit and she’s probably got mild autism.

“Lost and lonely, now you’ve given me the will to survive,” he continues. Wonderful. He’s suicidal as well. What a catch. This one’s a keeper, ladies.

“When we’re hungry, love will keep us alive,” he proclaims. Yes, it will, sweetheart. Love will keep you two lovebirds alive — but only with a healthy dose of cannibalism. Mmm. Human — the other white meat.

All the other big love songs aren’t much better. You’re Still the One? I’m sorry, were you expecting someone else? When a Man Loves a Woman? So, you’re heterosexual. What do you want? Applause? Can’t Smile Without You? Serial killer psycho stalker. How Do I Live? Eat something. Just the Two of Us? Oh, good god, you’ve killed my family. Breathe? Gee, thanks for the tip, Faith Hill.

Of course, love isn’t always portrayed as idiotic. In Hollywood, it’s usually just superficial.

Walking out of the oddly soul-less Curious Case of Benjamin Button, I overheard the gentleman behind me coo to his friends: “Aww, that’s so romantic. She stayed with him even though he was getting younger while she was getting older.” Well, duh. He was aging backwards to becoming a sunkissed Brad Pitt. I’d say that’s incentive enough. Would the movie have been as “romantic” if he was becoming Steve Urkel? I think not.

In fact, what’s so curious about that? Most women date older men when they’re younger and it isn’t unusual for older women to enjoy getting biblical with younger stud muffins. Demi Moore — google her.

I’m not a love Scrooge with a black hole where my heart should be. Far from it, really. I’m most definitely a romantic.

Even as a child watching Annie, I knew all Carol Burnett’s wretched Miss Hannigan needed was a good man to love her (and a good 12-step detox programme) to turn that frown upside-down. And Daddy Warbucks just needed to get laid.

What I don’t appreciate is the effect these love songs and sweeping silver-screen romances have on real people. Pop culture has an indisputable effect on society. But isn’t it bad enough that your neighbour’s Chinese kid thinks he’s a gangsta rapper from da hood? Why on earth would we want to end up romantically retarded because of Celine Dion and her Duracell heart that goes on and on and on?

Which brings me back to Valentine’s Day. (There goes my gag reflex again.)Feb 14 is the culmination of every asinine idea of what love is supposed to be according to the sacred Book of Aniston. The misguided belief in “The One”. The little blue box from Tiffany & Co. The bed of roses. The fancy dinner. The happily-ever-after. The kiss in the rain. None of this actually has anything to do with love — it has everything to do with being in love with the idea of being in love.

Get a grip, people. There’s a not-so-fine line between reality and entertainment. You didn’t really think Michael Jackson was “bad” did you?

But, hey, I’m not delusional — I know we’ll never be rid of the cash cow that is VD (admit it, Valentine’s Day is as contagious and harder to get rid of than crabs).

So with everything else in life that we can’t change — like natural disasters and the refusal of the Survivor series to die a dignified death — I’ve learned to take a more constructive view of the situation.

Valentine’s Day is a wonderful way to sieve out the people you shouldn’t date. If your boyfriend is dumb enough to spend $600 on a reheated set-dinner for two and a ridiculously tacky bouquet the size of a walrus instead of taking you on vacation, your future child has a 50 per cent chance of not being the brightest bulb in Ikea.

Love is grand. Genetics, however, is everything.