Like politics, and, in a different way, like religion, holidays are uniquely personal to one’s past, one’s childhood—the psychology you develop and create in whatever mysterious way it manifests in you—one’s philosophy. I think this is particularly true of Valentine’s Day. What does Valentine’s Day mean to you?
It’s deeply romantic to me. Culturally, the holiday—which, like Christmas, I value for its commercialism—affords an opportunity to examine and express what is love. This is an eternal question. As an elementary school pupil, I remember making Valentines to my classmates. The frivolous exercise, an assignment in class which was intended as innocuous and probably to keep students occupied during progressive education, which was a disaster, provoked me to write.
Writing is thinking. I remember as a pudgy boy sitting at my desk thinking about my classmates, one by one, as individuals. I remember being enthused at the idea that something I could write could matter to each one. I cam…
