Thursday, January 18, 2007
It Poisons Everything
I saw my first Valentine's decoration yesterday -- a small heart wreath on the outside of someone's window. I was with a friend who hates the holiday even more than I do, and we railed against it for a few minutes. We haven't even finished recovering from Christmas and now the stores are filled with pink and red. It poisons everything, my friend said. We were on Van Dyke, passing a hotel called the King Richard. Let's just say The King has seen better days. It's what I call an afternoon affair hotel, where you sneak off to shoot drugs or sleep with your best friend's wife on an extended lunch break. To cheer my friend up, I said I'd write a Valentine's story at The King where the adulterous lovers snuck off on VD day (as my friend Hank used to refer to it) and walked hand in hand to the Stardust, a liquor store with a beautiful name that spoke of an ethereal, fleeting loveliness, but like The King, had morphed into a pitstop of desperation. They'd cart a bottle of cheap champagne back to their room and squeeze everything they could out of the few stolen hours to profess their love.
The story wouldn't be at The King, though. I'd start with one of the two at home, having to go through the motions of his or her life and pretend as if The King had never happened. The King would be the highlight, the most beautiful and exciting part of the day and by five o'clock, it would all be over and ordinary time would start. Maybe they'd have to give a token Valentine to their spouses and pretend like everything was fine. This evening scene would be so depressing that you'd realize that one is punished by the sin, not for it. The next day, the candy hearts would haunt the stores, all marked down. You could get them for almost nothing if you waited long enough.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Protect me from what I want." Jenny Holzer
Drinking reading suggestion: Adult Bookstore Karl Shapiro
Benedictions and Maledictions