Noonan at Noon

Noonan’s V-Word Monologues

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of Noonan and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Criquet Shirts. (Kind of).

Ah yes, Valentine’s Day. The time of the season when love hangs thick in the air like sweet perfume — ‘tis a scent quickly overpowered by guilt, marketing, and that beautifully beguiling scent of money. V-Day: a 24-hour period that’s as arbitrary and manufactured as Arbor Day, a grown man’s birthday, and anything your significant other deems as the anniversary of the first time you kissed/hugged/held hands/lifted the restraining order/etc. In short, it is a time of manufactured schmaltz. Make that “SCHMALTZ®.”

This day isn’t Kutcher’s fault. But we should blame him that Two and a Half Men is STILL on. Jennifer, you, of course, are okay.

Alas, my dear friends, I have little to offer you on this Friday other than caution and cynicism (and, perhaps, a nice glass of scotch – although I’m afraid the laws of physics prevent me from doing anything other than insisting you procure a bottle of Glenlivet Nadurra and show yourself how much you love yourself.)

Look. Whether or not you’ve been metaphorically speared by the proverbial heart-tipped arrow from a cherub named Cupid, this is a day that exists only to sell more flowers, chocolates, and movies so banal they make the inventor of film weep with bitterness in the afterlife. But Noonan, I hear you grumble as you exchange a crisp Andy Jackson for a dozen dyed-red roses, I know this… yet I’m caught beneath the wheels of the V-word marketing machine! I understand, it’s a Valentine’s Day Massacre in its own right.

“Send ‘em flowers, and a Hallmark card with a bear on front. God help you if you forget the @#$%ing Hallmark card with a bear on front!”

The best I can offer is that you mitigate the damage this day can do on your psyche and your wallet. Keep it simple, powerful and meaningful, as the bigger the gift, the emptier the gesture. Oh yes, nothing says “I love you to the ends of the earth” better than a cluster of flimsy red plastic balloons, reminding anyone who sees them that the earth’s natural resources are precious and limited, and that a small amount of them were just wasted in the production of this useless, tactless, cheap-ass proclamation of SCHMALTZ®.*

*sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell.

Don’t be the person who does this.
Or, for that matter, this.

Look, comrades. Remember your anniversary and celebrate like royalty. Remember the moments that make your relationship unique and special, and honor them well. Surprise your missus or mister with an anti-Valentine’s Day, and resolve to drink bottles of expensive Cabernet at home in defiance of some rose-petal’d entrance to the special 2-course V-Day deal down at the TGIFridays. Do anything but the surface-level spectacle that the media and the marketers whisper in your ear.

And if you should find yourself alone on this day, consider yourself safe for another year. Celebrate with the aforementioned Nadurra – an object truly worthy of anyone’s affection. 

To the rest of you, stay strong and be the ball,

Noonan

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