Blog Fodder, indeed..

Well now I went and did it, I joined a "challenge" where one blogs everyday for 30 days and then gets some minor recognition on a site www.nablopomo.com apparently the name stands for National Blog Posting Month, which used to be November, but now it is every month. So here we go, I who seldom posts to this blog, have now committed to posting every day for a month. Check it every day till March 16th.

Yesterday was Valentines day, it is a day that always creeps up on me and subtlety nags me to honor it with my someone special. I do not hate the day, I only have trouble with the concept. I love my girl each and every day of the week, I am sure to let her know I love her every day too, with words and actions. It is easy and natural and I do not need a pseudo holiday once a year to express my love for her. To her credit, she feels much the way I do, we simply exchange a few niceties and move on, fun but totally unnecessary.

I decided to get her some roses, big pretty roses. Since I have only given her flowers on a few occasions in our relationship, it is still a special thing, not tired or cliche. However, I was guilty, I had waited till the last possible moment to get any gift at all and I was on my way home from work when I stopped at the local florist. They were packed to the rafters with customer too. The building was heaving with every working man in town on their way home from work, looking lost and slightly uncomfortable in the store, frantically looking for the right bouquet.

There were blue collar types, construction workers, business men and professionals, all with the same blank stare and desperate desire to get something to honor their mate, and maybe not spend too much money, and get the hell out of there before the traffic got to heavy for the commute. I stumbled around some, as I didn't understand the system at first. I mean there were cooler doors full of flowers, some in bouquets, some stand alone, others wrapped, some in vases.

Once I figured out that I could get my flowers ala carte, I proceeded to choose a dozen red roses. I mean what could be more romantic than red roses? Well.. two dozen red roses thats what! A dozen roses is fine for making up after you stayed out too late and came home stinking of booze and cigarettes, then spending Sunday sick, tired and farting all over the house. No, a dozen roses wont do it when the point is to honor your lover.

Two dozen roses however, now that is an entirely different story. Sheer quantity and cost covers the fact that you only thought to buy something on your way home from work on the special night. It says, I really, really, really, love you baby. In all seriousness, two dozen roses even impresses me. They are flat out gorgeous and displayed proudly in the living room on the mantle. Funny how 12 more of something is suddenly not cliche or standard, but special.

The fact is, when she looks at those roses, for a fleeting time, as they will eventually die and fade, I hope she sees 24 reminders that I do love her, even though I am crippled by being a man, and not terribly sentimental.

I dont have a very good history with Valentines day, I left my cheating wife on Valentines day, after a big fight I said good-bye on Feb. 14th 2000. I never looked back. Since then I have broken up with two women with whom I was in a relationship, either on the 14th or within a day or two. I didnt mean to do it on that day, it was pure coincidence, really. I think February is partially to blame, the limbo between winter and spring, the gray days and cold nights, the colorless slog to the end of winter.

So I do not feel so bad on one level, there were hundreds of other men doing the same thing I was doing at the florist yesterday. "Oh I better get something for the woman on the way home", we all were in the same sad situation, but I would bet to a man, our hearts were in the right place. Maybe we hadn't thought out and planned an elaborate celebration but we did think to do something special after all and I bet all of us men on our commute home thought about what a great woman we were fortunate enough to have. I know I was, thinking that a couple dozen roses were only one small expression of a much deeper feeling, the love, the friendship, the intimacy.

Is it Memorial Day yet?

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