A few years ago I bought a box of cheap paper Scooby-Doo valentines – you know, the ones that say “I rrrrrike you!” or “Zoinks! You’re great!”. I signed my name “JOHN” in big capitals (complete with a backward “N” as I recall) in purple crayon and gave one each to the women NCOs in my squadron. They all though it was funny – one even squealed.
The only one who “complained” was the company mechanic – husband of one of the recipients – who demanded, “Where’s mine?” When I said I didn’t give valentines to “boys”, only “girls”, he claimed it was discrimination on the basis of gender and was going to file a formal redress of grievance. He went off on some tangent, as I recall, of slaving all day under a hot truck and doing everything for the unit, an no one so much as gave him flowers or took him out to dinner or anything. It was a hoot.
As for giving valentine’s chocolates to the padre – I’d assume good faith here, and say it was a nice gesture to remember someone who often gets overlooked on holidays; especially nowadays with vocations down, the religious can often lead a lonely existence. Not everyone can be a hermit. OTOH, I recognize that the occasion might be what raises the eybrows – the “love” associated with Valentine’s Day is usually closer to “eros” than “agape”. I mean, sure, when I was in Kindergarten and Grade 1 everyone valentines to everyone, and they were the cartoon-character non-romantic friendship type. Once we discovered girls didn’t really have cooties and there were more fun things than pulling on their pigtails, valentines became more and more narrowed: girls in general, then girls I liked (and hoped liked me back), then
the girl I liked, then the girl I loved (who is my wife).
Once the concept of Valentine’s became associated with amor/eros instead of caritas/agape, I stopped giving them to guys and relatives. Valentines from your
mom? Ewwww!
