The Doctor’s in the House

February 15, 2007 at 4:54 am (Uncategorized)

I’ve been away the past few days on a press famil to the NSW South Coast, organised by Tourism NSW, and very nice it was, too. I got back last night, just in time for dinner with Llew. It was, for those of you who chose to ignore it, Valentine’s Day.

I’m not a Valentine’s Day hysteric of either type. One type of person slavishly devotes themselves to the occasion, scattering petals and love notes in their wake, whilst the other energetically scorns it, mocking couples and their dinner dates as gimmicky and kitsch. Me, I don’t really care about Valentine’s Day, I remember far too many years without a Valentine for that, but I don’t see what’s so wrong with having a reason to celebrate a little romance.

There’s couples everywhere on Valentine’s Day, and I think it’s kind of nice to see all those interlinked arms and locked lips. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Sydney coming over all Venetian. It sure beats the pack and mob mentality of the hoon squads that usually drag their hotted up cars up and down streets at night. Even these guys somehow manage to get girls in this town, and even those girls, forever stuck in the back seat suffering eardrum damage, manage to call the shots on Valentine’s Day. For a brief moment, the floor is theirs, even if it means turning off ‘Who Let the Dogs Out?” when they pull up at a set of lights. On Valentine’s Day, they might even get to ride up front for a change, if they play their cards right. Lucky things.

I can see it’s an American commercial construct, a commemoration constructed out of thin air by card companies, florists, and chocolate manufacturers, I know too that restaurants have jumped on the big, fat pie, demanding their own hefty slice, a big tower of fake cream swizzled on the side, and I can even swallow the idea that Valentine’s Day has a negative impact on otherwise sane and stable singletons. This is even though the single crowd in Sydney otherwise seems to be constantly tripping the light fantastic, and doesn’t usually hold back letting you know that married people and couples are to party time what Adam and Eve were to the Garden of Eden.

Yes, the origin of the couple is where all the trouble started, and we’ve all been paying the price ever since. Those bastards.

When I met up with Llew last night, I hadn’t seen him for three days that had felt like an eternity. He had a bunch on orchids for me. We had a drink, and then we went out for a lovely meal and a bottle of wine. We walked home along the beach arm in arm, and we passed dozens of couples doing the same. It wasn’t about presents or boxes shaped like love-hearts or hyperbolic declarations of love. It was just lovely to be together, just the two of us, because sometimes I worry that we don’t make enough time for that. I make no quarrel with the made-up holiday that ensures there’s at least one night a year when we do. Long may it continue.

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