Money can't buy happiness, but it can purchase UPC-marked love.
True love doesn't come cheap; I'd skip the cupid air freshener for your sweetie's car. No one wants an "I love you, but you stink" gift — especially on St. Valentine's Day.
Despite its lace-trimmed heart, Valentine's Day isn't about love. Feb. 14 is a day synonymous with mass-produced show of affection, whether it be words, flowers, chocolates or smartphones. Even Kermit the Frog sold out this year, as evidenced by my daughter's "Muppets" valentine cards.
According to a National Retail Federation Consumer Intentions and Actions survey, the average person will spend $126.03 on Valentine's Day merchandise this year. Total holiday spending is expected to reach $17.6 billion. That's a lot of chalky Sweethearts candies.
Every year, would-be Romeos and Juliets search greeting card racks for store-bought valentine sentiment. A few people still pour out their innermost yearnings inside a blank card. The vast majority — myself included — simply write their name below prose churned out by Hallmark focus groups.
Some valentine card shoppers choose a love that flies on gossamer wings. Others opt for the sublime "Yeah, I yell at the football game, leave my dirty underwear on the floor and drink too much beer, but I love ya' babe" card. I personally pass up the "doth," "twain" and rhymes with "nicer" selections.
Legend has it that an imprisoned St. Valentine, the holiday's namesake, passed a "From your Valentine" love note to his jailer's daughter. He sent his card the night before he was martyred — talk about setting the bar too high for the rest of us guys.
When it comes to the male species, cupid's gift-buying arrow often strikes these ill-advised targets:
• Gas-station flowers, grocery-store teddy bears and convenience-mart candy. Nothing says "last-minute panic" like checkout-line trinkets. You might as well toss in some scratch-off lottery tickets — at least that gift has a chance of redeeming value.
• Lingerie. A sheer negligee can quickly turn into a sheer disaster if the size is wrong. Too small or too big underwear is the quintessential delicate situation. Hopefully you can still find apology roses on Feb. 15.
• Gift card. No greater way to succinctly say, "I thought as little as possible, happy Valentine's Day."
• Household goods. Simply put, a vacuum cleaner for Valentine's Day sucks and blows at the same time.
Tomorrow our child will deliver valentines to her fellow fourth-graders. These are still the innocent "You're Cool Valentine" penguin-card years. I don't think they're allowed to hand out unrequited love multipacks until middle school.
Then again, you shouldn't buy anything I say — I'm guilty of shopping for UPC-marked love.


