By the time you read this,
it’ll be fairly close to
Valentine’s Day, and that’s
got me thinking. Though we
can all probably agree that
crass consumerism rather than
“holiness” is the driving force
behind most holidays these days
(at least in Western culture),
we might still have a healthy
debate about whether Cherub
Day is a good thing. The arguments
against it include the
aforementioned crassness and
the view that, if you need to be
reminded to find a thoughtful
or touching way to express your
love and devotion on one out
of 365 days, you might just be
a lazy, insensitive jerk whose
relationships are doomed to fail
regardless of how many tacky
necklaces or manly tool sets you
buy. (Although my gorgeous
wife of 17 years adheres to the
latter philosophy, I assure you
it’s not because I’ve ever been
foolish enough to purchase
heart-shaped jewelry.)
You could also argue that
the Day of Chocolates and
Broken Hearts is a counterproductive
crutch that promotes
laziness by giving losers an
escape mechanism that merely
prolongs the pain of a doomed
relationship. In other words,
it fools significant others into
believing the once-a-year
romanticism is proof that an
ass-dragger is turning over a
new leaf. More often than not,
the ass-dragger is just engaging
in self-preservation—hoping
that shelling out a few bucks
will make up for the past year’s
apathetic coasting and serve as
a down payment on another
364 days of dumbassery.
And that brings up one of
the only arguments in favor of
Valentine’s Day. If we didn’t
have February’s nonstop barrage
of Zales and Kay Jewelers commercials
prompting brain-dead
idiots to get it in gear, there’d
probably be a lot higher rates of
domestic violence and mariticide.
To be sure, this wouldn’t
be an entirely bad thing: It’d
reduce the number of morons
in the gene pool and no doubt
provide a substantial number of
riveting, if not gruesome, tales.
(My bets are on a preponderance
of poisoning and steak
knives through the sternum,
but I digress.)
As shown here by Jack Black’s School of Rock character, Dewey
Finn, power stance impresses children, but it’s not enough to ensure
that significant others will throw themselves at you for years to
come. My advice: Play something that makes them swoon instead.
Photo courtesy of Paramount Pictures
When all arguments are in,
my stance is that Valentine’s
Day is a great day to do something
extra special, but we all
ought to show loved ones we
cherish them every day. Even
more importantly, you’ve got
to find cool-ass ways to periodically
surprise your lover/
spouse/partner throughout the
year. As Pavlov’s dog proved,
rewarding at random intervals
induces drooling—and that
can definitely be a good thing.
(Rrrawwrrr!) Just don’t do it
with lame copout gifts like
those we’re seeing schlepped
left and right in the name of
romance right now. Put some
thought into it, for cuss’ sake!
And remember: Price isn’t
important, but cleverness and
sweetness are.
This leads me to my main
point: When was the last time
you used your musical skills to
tell that special someone how
much they make you drool? If
you’re counting on your main
squeeze being hot for you for
years to come simply because
you’ve got Dewey Finn’s power
stance down pat, you’re not
only overestimating the appeal
of rock-star-quality posing,
you’re also overlooking the
impending arrival of paunch,
wrinkles, and/or hair loss—
none of which reinforce the
power of power stance.
As for me, I’ll admit I’m
guilty of not using my meager
6-string skills for the loftiest
pursuits. I wrote an acoustic
ditty for my love on her birthday
18 years ago when we were
dating, and then I recorded
another for her about 10 years
ago. That was pretty much it
until a few months ago, when
I started jotting down lyric
ideas in my iPhone whenever
inspiration struck. It doesn’t
make up for the years of
neglect and failure on my part,
but it’s a start.
Part of the problem has
been that I’ve spent so much
of my musical life focusing on
trying to play stuff I think is
cool, which means my abilities
as a singer-songwriter aren’t
what they could be—and we
all know nobody thinks of an
instrumental when they think
of a love song.
Don’t get me wrong, though.
I’m sure as hell not advocating
that any of us become
6-string-toting Enrique Iglesias
or Mariah Carey wannabes. I’ll
personally have your subscription
revoked if you try anything
of the sort. But certainly there
has to be some middle ground
where we can create something
that’s got nice guitar work and
that has significance to those
we hold dearest. I mean, what
could be cooler than that, really?
In fact, I’d go as far as saying
it’d be a real waste and a shame
if each of us didn’t regularly use
these planks of wood and wire
to send amorous arrows into the
hearts of the only other things
on earth that can compete with
the joy we get from holding
them in our arms.