Tuesday, February 13, 2007

The real skinny on Valentine's Day.

Ladies and gentlemen. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. You were certainly aware of this. If you're single, society has allocated two emotions for the day: glumness and relief. If you're dating, married, or otherwise involved, well, you're allowed more leeway, although flora is recommended by most experts. I'd recommend staying in though: I can't tell you how many Valentine's Days I've been out and have the displeasure of suffering through spiteful significant others going through the motions for $50 a plate. Personally? I'm cooking. Or watching other people cook. Either way: food, booze, merriment. And nobody the next table over threatening divorce because her husband thinks Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is better than Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Which it isn't, so I see her point.

You of course must brace yourself for the inevitable "Valentine's Day is too commercial" rants, bombasts, and Op-Eds. You will hear the phrase "Hallmark Holiday" at least a dozen times. You will hope Maya Angelou's poetry is not involved in this definition of Hallmark. You will be wrong. I am truly sorry about this.

But really: What holiday isn't commercial at this point? Arbor Day? That's about it, honestly, and lately, even the conifers have been getting greedy. And, since Hallmark has a card for everything ("Our condolences on the loss of your keys"), those tirades are pretty pointless. Hell, this is America. Even our blood pressure meds are commercial.

What I'm saying is, those people are missing the point. Valentine's Day isn't about love or complaining about obligatory dating rituals or watching the Vagina Monologues in righteous protest. No. Valentine's Day is about Soft Rock. It's about Chris Deburgh and Enya and "Against All Odds." It's about admitting you love all those songs and it's about listening to them while not in the backseat of your parents minivan or in a dentist's chair when you can't feel your face and subsequently can't tell that you're drooling blood all over your new sweater.

Of course, maybe I'm just making excuses. See, there was an infomercial on a few nights ago (actual line from the host: "I can't believe I'm sitting here next to Air Supply!!!"), reliving Time Life's favorite Soft Rock songs, realizing "Wait, I kind of like that song...shit...that one too. Oh, it's old Elton!" and then feeling a little dirty, a little ashamed, and strangely exuberant. Maybe I'm just saying that Valentine's Day is the soft rockinest day of the year so I can indulge this newfound weakness for DeBarge for 24 hours without all the sidelong glances. Or maybe, just maybe, this was an extremely roundabout way to force you to watch this video, during which someone who I hope never comes close to you at all admits wanting to kiss you all over. Yes, this was the real band. Yes, MTV was once good for something. And yes, I apologize for the ensuing nightmares.

14 comments:

SOL's view said...

Ah yes, ancient soft rock ... or is that limestone? As I sit here in an office as quiet as a mausowhatsit - crypt - and miss those songs. Heck any songs.

But! I am so mindful of these holidays that a friend actually reminded me what day it was. Guess what my significant other is getting?

And speaking of commercialism, they have the easter eggs out already....

RD said...

In response to your response to my comment on the last entry: SXSW is not about the bands at all. You're right; I'd rather just sit right here in Philly and wait for the bands to come to me. It's about the media frenzy. I've got stars in my eyes just thinking about it. I'm a concert photographer; I take pictures of bands all the time. I want to go to SXSW and take pictures of other people taking pictures of bands.

birdmonster said...

SOL: Your signifigant other is getting tulips. I feel it. You can use it as an excuse to teach about the Holland Tulip craze, wherein people morgaged their house for rare flowers. It's proof that people have always, always been shitcrazy. It's reassuring.

Either that or they're getting nothing. Which is a lesson in it of itself, really.

KLT: Now that's an idea. And if I took pictures of you, would that be postpostmodern or just asinine?

Anonymous said...

Does this mean we get to listen to soft rock all through dinner tomorrow?! Yippee!

elvette said...

Which is more disturbing the giant lips or the front man's hair?

birdmonster said...

Hojo: Indubitably.

YouTube: I didn't realize you were a real person. Nice to meet you. Buy me dinner?

Elvette: Can't it be both?

kasi said...

I honestly think I love you after reading this blog. (not in a stalker way, of course).

Happy V Day to you.

Anonymous said...

I hope we can we slow dance to Lady in Red after dinner...cheek to cheek...

birdmonster said...

Kasi: Aw. Thanks. And Happy Shoe Day to you and yours.

The Girl: You know there's no way I could ever turn that down. You'll have to get highlights in you hair that catch my eye so the song can be truly relived.

elvette said...

Can you guys play some slow songs and have some paper mache sets on the upcoming tour?

Expectations are too high after this post. Tribute must be paid--and Doobie Brothers hair and fur is not going to cut it.

Sabrina said...

oh shit, I clearly remember that song and video!
Stage props were not so good back in the day!

My friend at work is now humming along. kiss you all over is stuck in her head.

I'll share this with my boyfriend since he is conveniently barely speaking to me today. It should spark bad memories of his ex-girlfriend with the horribly teased 80's hair. Maybe he'll speak to me tonight/or have bad dreams of oversized lips and a dirty blond, 1/2 man with bangs cut way too short! The latter would make me much happier at this point!

Lot's of Love Birdmonster
Have A Very Happy V-Day!

Sabrina said...

Just viewed the Bottom of the Hill pics! Awesome shots! Thanks for sharing...

Geez! Pete needs to join a wet T-shirt contest! I'm flushed!!!

birdmonster said...

Sabrina: If this video doesn't cause your boyfriend to weep (either with glee, from laughter, or out of pain), be saddened.

And yes. Peter is a sweaty, sweaty man.

Sabrina said...

Believe me I am already saddened!
four words... Stick in the Mud!

I however laughed, wheezed and choked, Thanks!!

Tonight I will drink a bottle of good wine in the name of sweaty men and great music!