Nothing says I love you like legal services

mypolaropposite — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 20:04:49 +0000

You’ve already read my first anti-Valentine’s Day rant, but here’s where I tell you why the entire “holiday” just leaves me cold. Everyone who’s selling something is trying to get us to buy their wares to symbolize our feelings for a loved one. Jewelry makes sense, the diamond industry being what it is. After all, De Beers has convinced us that a lifetime of love, companionship, smelling your flatulence and doing your laundry is worth 3-months’ salary. Chocolate is a gift I can always support, plus there’s a chemical in cocoa which induces the euphoric, falling-in-love feeling that you may want from a romantic interlude. If you’re kinda dumb and not creative, Hallmark and American Greetings has you all the pre-fab sentiment you’ll need to convince your girlfriend that you’re at least good at choosing sappy cards. And the marketer in me will even support rosy-hued electronics and durable goods as tokens of emotion. But legal services?

“Treat Yourself This Valentine’s Day”

This week I got an outbound, direct-to-consumer electronic communication (what you civilians call “SPAM”) from LegalZoom. I’ve done some research with them on setting up my LLC, so I get and e-mail about once a week about their services. The latest message was different, though. It had a Valentine’s Day theme. And pictures of conversation hearts. And a call to action that I show my love this month with a last will and testament. Boy is that the antithesis of romance. I guess I should be glad that LegalZoom didn’t offer to work on a pre-nup.

Yeah, I know I haven’t been keen on building up Valentine’s Day as the last bastion of storybook love but stay with me for a minute. No matter how much I kvetch about it, the fantasy of romance is quite beautiful. You know what I’m talking about: the perfect atmosphere, the perfect music; he talks openly about his feelings for you and how smart and pretty you are; she has nothing on under her dress, then she does that thing in bed she’s promised to do for months…heaven! The presentation of probate papers or signing 8×14″ documents figures nowhere in that illusion. Romance is about dreaming and emotions and getting swept away, and legal services are about reality and thinking and careful planning. Very rarely do I get sprung on a guy then engage in extensive fantasies about going with him to the notary public. Similarly, some guy whipping out his corporate seal doesn’t get me hot or give me the warm fuzzies, no matter how much of a geek I am.

Give Me a Gift I Wouldn’t Get for Myself

LegalZoom took all the fun out of romance – or feigning romance – by peddling some pedestrian, everyday stuff in the middle of the February and pretending that its cute and cuddly. If I form my LLC now, does the official filing come on pink, rose-scented paper with a free heart-shaped box of chocolates? Because that’s what I expect when you pitch it to me in a Valentine’s Day wrapper. Besides, a gift is something that someone gives to or does for you. If you give someone a trademark application as a V-Day gift you’re basically giving them a bunch of work to do. Even if the process is online and fairly straightforward, your beloved is clearly going to think of you – and perhaps not so kindly – as they’re reading fine print, checking their e-mail for confirmations, and generally worrying that they’ve done something wrong. How sweet of you!

I did think of a legal activity that does connote love and romance: filing for divorce. It might not mean lovey-dovies for everyone, but I’m sure that some affected parties would consider it cause for champagne, flowers, and celebration.

Boycotting Valentine's Day

mypolaropposite — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 15:48:44 +0000

Somebody put a fork in me because I’m done: I am officially calling for an embargo on Valentine’s Day and all its associated shenanigans (except for the chocolate that goes on sale the day after, since I haven’t completely lost my mind). This year, I’m not

Image licensed under Creative Commons by thedesignsuperhero.com

sending any cards, or wishing anyone a Happy-Happy, or acknowledging the so-called holiday in any fashion except to encourage others to join me in abstaining. Take that, Cupid.

The origin of Valentine’s Day hoodwinking

First let me remind you, dear reader, that Valentine’s Day is a faux holiday, not commemorating anything that I care to remember. According to Wikipedia, the first association between the martyrs St. Valentine and courtly love may have begun with a poem by Geoffrey Chaucer to celebrate the engagement of King Richard II of England to Anne of Bohemia in 1380 or so. Apparently Chaucer was all about the love birds and flowery language, which I must have missed when I read The Canterbury Tales. Another thread of history attributes the “holiday” to Pope Gelasius, who simultaneously declared February 14 St. Valentines Day and outlawed the Roman mating festival called Lupercalia. While I’m not necessarily a fan of a dating “lottery” that involves getting slapped with animal hide, I might prefer random pairings to the concepts of soul mates and being together forever. At least in a lottery situation, there’s a chance I’ll actually get a date.

Dating in February does not equal a date for Valentine’s Day

Right about now I’ll assume you’re thinking, “If she was seeing someone, maybe she’d be a little more sold on Valentine’s Day,” and you would be wrong, wrong, wrong. My previous longish-term relationships have all seen mid-February and have weathered all manner of sentimental notions that Valentine’s Day be filled with hearts and flowers. As it turns out I needn’t have bothered to celebrate with the “Parade of Assholes” in my past. There was the guy to didn’t believe in Valentine’s Day (turns out he was right), but did believe in meeting me at work to pick up a chocolate cake I’d baked for him. You see, I was under the delusion that I’d spend some part of the evening feeding it to him, or at least licking frosting off my own fingertips in his presence. Ha! Then there was the trip to Boston with a would-be suitor which resulted in backed-up traffic, missed dinner reservations, and starting my period so I was extra-crabby during the entire debacle. I did get a stuffed animal and some red cinnamon candy out of the mishegas so all was not lost. I think my high school boyfriend may have come up with a card and a waxy chocolate-flavored heart that got thrown in the trash. The point is, whether romance is dead, or pressure to conform leads to romantic failure, Valentine’s Day a deux can end up being a dud.

image licensed by Creative Commons 2.0 via Flickr

In spite of my pitiful showing I have had romantic moments, in the middle of Autumn even. Once, the boyfriend of the ill-fated Boston trip had the notion to draw me a bath, light candles, and order me dinner one Friday night when I had to work until 8PM. The man for whom I baked a cake sent me coffee and bagels at work one morning. The fact that I wasn’t there to receive them that day is another issue entirely, but he did get credit for thoughtfulness. And my most wonderful February 14 moment occurred at a martini bar in Hollywood with a bunch of girlfriends. Some were attached, some were not, be we all decided to toast each other that night rather than focusing on some guy. We had a total blast, so much so that the staff repeatedly asked us to keep it down. Apparently our raucous laughter, conviviality and celebration was bothering all the sappy couples in the dining room. Pfft! I believe that a table of happy, drunk, single women spends more money than 5 couples monitoring their intake so they don’t feel bloated, lose their erection, or fall asleep during the sex they’re obliged to have after dinner. And drunken women tip better than some dude who spent all his money trying to impress his girlfriend with flowers and candy and fancy wine when he usually drinks Bud Light.

Romance is fleeting, but love is here to stay. At least it should be.

What I’m saying is, don’t wait for some greeting card company to tell you when or how to feel good about your beloved. And if you’re between mates, don’t let some marketing campaign make you feel like that kid in elementary school who didn’t get any conversation hearts from his classmates. It’s arbitrary and artificial. If you don’t believe me, note that even White Castle offers reservations and candlelight for you and your valentine. I can’t imagine what’s more enchanting: the smell wafting through the restaurant during your dinner, or that emanating from your bottom once the meal is over.