In a tattered black-and-white photo, my second-grade teacher Mrs. Summers sits with dignity at her desk, beautifully clad in a classically tailored suit. On her desk stands a rare item of frivolity: a shoebox decorated with doilies and crepe paper.

To that box we dutifully trotted at the beginning of school on February 14th, inserting our tiny valentines in a slot. As I recall, she collected them all in that box and then sorted them out. There was no rule that “everyone had to receive the same number.” Some kids would get more, some fewer. She had extras for those who got none.

Afterwards, we went back to the serious business of learning our sums or copying phrases neatly onto grey-tan lined paper. At the end of the day we had a short period of celebration. Mrs. Summers dispensed valentines to us while we consumed a cookie that, surely, someone’s mother had made. 

It was a gentle, memorable ceremony.

I was clinging to those memories when I entered Walmart a few days ago. The 30-foot high walls of red Mylar balloons cascading both sides of each checkout line were nearly frightening. Behind the registers stretched rows of mostly ugly, red and white stuffed animals, many of them humongous. 

And, oh, the mangled stacks of candy. I needn’t describe that, right? 

Last, but not least, every remaining space was crammed with counters holding not very attractive bouquets of flowers imprisoned in clear cellophane. (Why can we not figure out affordable, readily accessible, lovely flowers in the United States?) 

Okay, I’ll hold back the rest of my rant, asking only “How did a sweet traditional holiday, just barely related to its origins, become a Mylar and sugar-filled blowout? An event aimed at making virtually every adult feel guilty about not expressing sufficient “love”? 

Well, we know the answer. There was money to be made—lots of it apparently. You’ve seen the figures of the skyrocketing revenues from Valentine’s Day sales, yes?

There’s nothing particularly commercially compelling about celebrating the actual St. Valentine, a 3rd-century priest who ministered to Christians in an era of deadly persecution. Among the stories in his hagiography, he facilitated secret Christian marriages. At that time marriages were prohibited to young men so that they would not be distracted from their duties as soldiers. Valentine was martyred on February 14, 269 A.D. In his last letter before his execution he is said to have addressed a comforting message to a woman whose sight he had restored through prayer years earlier. He closed his final spiritual directive with the warm words: “From your Valentine.”

And from that phrase, you know the rest.

By the time you read this, most of the Valentine’s Day 2019 brouhaha will be over. But not all. In my experience, stores tend  to keep the price high on anything red for several days until the last stragglers who forgot their sisters-in-law have rectified the situation.

Being the capitalist I am, I’d be okay with most of it . . . if only the items offered for sale were beautiful. But increasingly they are not. Monster Valentines are not beautiful. Fuschia-dyed carnations are not beautiful. Poorly sewn, red and white fluffy hippopotamuses are not beautiful (we actually like collectable hippopotamuses around here, but not that kind). 

Plus, the heart-shaped sweets marketed for Valentines may look sort of beautiful but generally they are not tasty. I’m living for the day when American bakeries cut the sugar by half. The resulting taste (as anyone who eats sweets from Europe knows) would be far better. 

See, that’s another one of the unsolved mysteries. Our forefathers came here in straightened conditions. Sugar had to be something of a luxury. So when did recipes start requiring a cup-plus of sugar for anything resembling a dessert?

Oops, I said no more ranting and here I am going off again. Basically, I just try to stay out of the way on Valentine’s Day. That’s my best strategy. 

Besides, it’s been extra busy here. Starting yesterday, I’ve been engaged in conducting Skype interviews with some wondrous American composers/performers. I’ll tell you more about that next week. Several of the interviews will be up on my site in a few days. I have loved the chance to talk with these people (psst, William Bolcom is one). And I love their music.

Now that’s a good way to celebrate St. Valentine’s Day, right?