First, let me say up front that I think Valentine’s Day is overrated.

Who decided that a heart-shaped box, red in color and filled with chocolates that ooze some indescribable runny fluid when you bite into them, should have anything at all to do with eternal love?

I mean, come on.

For all I know that’s some worker’s idea of a really bad DNA joke. I mean, really. YUCK!

From what I could discern from a vast array of Web sites, Saint Valentine’s Day was named after two early Christian martyrs named Valentine. (Sure, they probably martyred themselves after eating a box of those special chocolates.)

Quite a few years later, an English poet named Geoffrey Chaucer came along and sort of put the romantic spin on it.

By the way, the history lesson is totally free, especially considering another site I read claims no one really knows why we celebrate Valentine’s Day or exactly who Saint Valentine was. I believe they referred to the holiday as ‘shrouded in mystery.’

Venus’ son Cupid got involved somehow. Probably had a really good agent.

Of course, Cupid always shoots his arrows straighter around Feb. 14th. Sure he does. It’s in his contract.
I also read that around one billion greeting cards are bought for the holiday. On an average of $4 a card, that’s quite a chunk of change.

Then you figure in the flowers, candy, stuffed animals (I always wanted a humongous green frog holding a plastic heart to confirm my husband’s love for me), and what you have is a retailer’s dream. Of course, if he gets you something, you feel compelled to return the favor. Come on, we all know guys ain’t eating that candy.

So then you have to get them a really nice gift. You know, a CD or cologne, or an iPod or new laptop, something like that.

By the time you’re done you’ve spent quite a roll. All because of this “mysterious holiday?”
I’m not as cynical as I sound. I truly love “love.” Really, I do.

I just think that we don’t necessarily need a particular day marked off on the calendar to display it. What’s wrong with June 30th, for example? Or maybe March 10th or April 11th?

My point is we can show that special someone in our lives how much we love them any day. Every day.
We don’t need marketers and a blank check telling us when and how.

Then you have those folks out there who don’t have someone special at that particular time in their lives, or they’ve just broken up with someone. The magical holiday turns into a blues festival or something.

Everybody’s sad and dreary because everyone else is getting mystery chocolates and flowers and they’re not.

When it’s all said and done the question is this: Do we really want to put that kind of pressure on ourselves and the one we love by feeling compelled to make Feb. 14th the most perfect lover’s day throughout the whole year? Instead of simply spreading it out over the entire 365 days?

I guess if my husband brings me home a heart-shaped box this year wrapped in red foil, I’ll smile and make the best of it. After all, it really is the thought that counts. But no way will I eat it!