valentine’s day
14 posts
Happy Singles Awareness Day everyone! Not all of us can be lucky enough to spend it flirting with our Facebook fiancées who live across the pond (I know. I’m so lucky!), but we can all be lucky enough to do some book-learnin’ so that we can be smart enough to land that lucky lad (or lass) to share a bottle of Johnny Walker Green next year, when the holiday will magically transform into St. Valentine’s Day™. (Note: Before I snagged an author account about a half hour ago, I had posted a briefer today in history in the Morning Open Thread. There will be minor overlap because some important stuff did happen today, but I’m going to try my best to make this as fresh as those amazing grapes you get at the Union Square Farmer’s Market in August (i.e. PURDY FRESH))
IT’S ALIVE! (When life rises from the ashes of a placenta)
Beloved dwarfish king mayor of NYC turned 69 today! BAWM CHICKA WOW WOW. I’ve sent a large pepperoni pizza, a sprite and a pack of cigarettes to his apartment and arranged for a crew of Irishmen to follow him around tonight waving, waving with all the wave they have! If I still lived in New York, I’d totally go smoke in the park even though I quit because, seriously, 14$ for a pack of Luckies!? Outrageous!
You know who else was born today? Pat O’Brien, but also, someone named JoJo Starbuck. That has to be, like, my favorite name ever. It’s amazing on so many levels. Plus she looks like a lot of fun (she’s 60). Evidence:
To round out the life portion of our programme (now that we have politics and athletics), Italian Baroque composer Francesco Cavalli was born several hundred years back. A piece from an opera of his is at the top of this post.
OH MY GOD!? HE’S DEAD!? HE’S DEAD!? WHAT!?
Just kidding. It was actually the ornithologist James Bond is named after. You only live twice, Mister Bond. Once as a mild-mannered birdwatcher, and again as a sexy, sexy, sexxxy spy. What I’m saying here is that Daniel Craig is hot and can I please have him for Singles Awareness Day?
Today’s Dead Saints are Cyril and Valentine. That crazy Russian writing was invented by Cyril and his bro Method Man Methodius.
VIOLENCE (Won’t someone please think of the children!?)
Nothing violent today happened except for some Prohibitionist Chicago gang wars. That’s boring. Except, well, I guess, not, because seven people died due to Al Capone and Bugs Bunny Moran not being able to be friends.
OTHER STUFF THAT HAPPENED THAT’S KIND OF COOL
- Eli Gray woke up late and lost his patent for the talky phonograph to Alex Bell.
- The Importance of Being Earnest opened and Oscar Wilde’s career began it’s tragic descent thanks to the libel case against his lover’s father that was initiated in the weeks after the opening.
- Today is the 30th anniversary of the Stardust Disaster in which 48 people were killed in a fire at a Dublin discotheque after they found that all the main fire exits were chained and padlocked.
So that’s today in history, everyone, I’ll see you tomorrow when it’s socially acceptable to be a single person again and I won’t have to leave the house with a grocery bag over my head so as to hide the shame.
If you’re one of those jerks or jerkettes who awoke this morning to a blissful, dizzying euphoria, good for you. If you want to read happy Valentine’s Day stories, Betty Crocker has put together two absolutely adorable posts on his ridiculously healthy and happy relationship with Cap’n Crocker.
For the rest of us, today’s just another Monday. Except on most Mondays, I don’t call FTD and ask them to bring me long-stemmed roses from an anonymous secret admirer.
“Ooh!” I don’t say on most Mondays, “I wonder who these are from!” “Haha,” I don’t continue on most Mondays, “guess it’s just my lucky day!” “Don’t be sad, it’s just a silly greeting card holiday,” is something I don’t say to my coworkers on most Mondays.
So whatchall doin’ this Valentine’s Day? If your answer includes…
- dinner with a significant other
- a date you’re excited about
- the reasonable expectation of good sex
…then please head on over to Betty’s posts. We’re not tryna hear that over here.
Happy Anna Howard Shaw Day to all of you lonely hearts out there. Leave your suggestions on how to spend Valentine’s Day on your own and be totally fine with it, okay?
“I want you. Now.”
Well, who doesn’t want to hear that? So, despite the alarm going off, a curious kitty, and a pillow gone askew, I found myself right where I belonged – under 280 pounds of muscular manly man who required my presence and devotion.
At a rather critical moment, he stopped his attentions. In a Brooklyn-y growl, I was informed: “Ya bettah know that you’re the best thing that evah happened right heah.”
I couldn’t help it. This is so not like me, but I busted out crying (f’n Valentine’s Day and hormones) and buried my face in his big be-tatted shoulder. He grabbed my chin, kissed me, and recommenced driving me insane.
Without being more graphic I will tell you that I was his and he was mine.
So what’s that all about?
Well, I think it’s a bit different with two guys as opposed to a hetero couple or two lesbians. The underlying motivation – sharing physical pleasure with your beloved, and being as close to them as possible – is the same no matter what plumbing one has. But with two men there is more freight. I think, for a man, opening yourself up to a woman has a bit less risk. She doesn’t inherently understand what being a man entails. What she knows and feels is that the person with her is giving 100% – but 100% of what? Some women can understand the concept of manhood – the expectations of responsibility, the stifling of emotion. I must point out that many women are emotionally stronger than men because they have to be. But being a man is not a thing which is easily explained to someone who isn’t.
Two men in love are often opposite sides of a coin. Where there’s overlap – ego, stubbornness, appreciation of art, beauty and life – they simply nod and accept it. Where there’s conflict – largely due to jockeying for position in the relationship – it can either make or break a couple. When two dudes fight over a lamp, the lamp is very often not the issue. It’s a struggle for who’s going to run the show. Smart gay men – like smart straight men – figure out pretty fast that the person who appears to run the show often doesn’t.
I keep our home clean, and I make sure that Cap’n has tasty noms, clean clothes, and gets to the doctor and dentist when he needs to. I also manage our finances. That could be subservient, but it’s not. I have not had to worry about car maintenance for 7 years, and any chore I wish to defer will be done by him. I write notes and leave flowers, he sneaks up behind me and gives me stealth hugs, often with fantastically dirty commentary. I have not had to drive to a family event since 2003. He shines all our boots and shoes, I plan our vacations. We plant flowers on our terrace together. It works. I am one of the luckiest Gays that ever Gayed.
When I am very old, I will look across a well-worn Ethan Allen dining table at the Cap’n, and while his jaw will be a bit less square and his skin a tad more papery, I will find myself in those caramel-colored eyes and want to rub those big arthritic shoulders.
There is no Hallmark card for this. But that’s all right.
