SWARTHMORE, Pa.

Ah, yes. Romance is in the air. As is a barrage of cupids, lace, angels, teddy bears, flowers and chocolates galore. Whether you like it or not, the Season of Love is upon us.

Valentine's Day is right around the corner. Please shoot me.

Yes, that's right, I hate Valentine's Day. This may seem odd, considering I am quite the romantic. But that's just it. Sorry to pull a Swattie and disparage against all things mainstream and commercial, but I've got a real problem with the capitalist ambience of Valentine's Day.

I feel like the real romance is replaced by Hallmark. It's a Greek tragedy. But I guess all holidays are like that. I mean, I can think of several friends of various faiths who whole-heartedly celebrate Christmas. And that's certainly not a criticism; it's more an observation of the lack of Christian content in the commercialized season.

But I think that people at least have some vague idea of the origins. And in general, `tis the season for good tidings and all that merriness. So even without the sacred, there is the humanitarian. And the world makes sense again.

How many people know who St. Valentine was, though? I barely remember and I spent nine years in Catholic school having the liturgy of the saints and their lives forced into me day after day. Not that knowing about this guy redeems the holiday — `cause the problem with Valentine's Day, as far as I can tell, is that it's pretty much comprised by commercialism.

Cutesy paraphernalia ad nauseam practically from December 27 `til the day after the actual cursed day. All those annoying reminders that relentlessly pursue you everywhere — on TV, on your computer, on the radio, at the mall, even in the grocery store. Forcing you to prove your love, your affection, your commitment, your sensitivity or whatever. It's such a performance.

And if, God forbid, you don't have a Valentine, well, then you might as well just down that entire bag of Hershey's kisses and sob hysterically while watching "An Affair to Remember" all by your lonesome like the pathetic person society says you are.

And it's not that I'm bitter. I've had my share of Valentine's Day moments (and plenty of self-pitying chocolate-filled moments, too).

It's just that I object to the performance of it all. Love (romance, commitment, trust, loyalty and all that jazz) is special because it's unique.

Because it is shared by only two people (well, usually). Because it brings magic into the couple's lives. Because it's what makes those lives worth living so much of the time.

And yeah, OK, the flowers will probably make her melt. But they're not enough.

Love is sacred. It should be celebrated every day. Not just once a year, on some arbitrary day in February.

And the best kinds of mementos don't have a little registered trademark symbol on them. They're those spontaneous, priceless gestures that remind you of why you are in love with the person in the first place.

That's how I see it, anyway.

This column first appeared in Swarthmore College's daily newspaper, the Swarthmore Phoenix, on Feb. 8, 2001 and is reprinted here courtesy of U-WIRE.

The opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

• Finding myself in Poland
  
• Guest Column
  
• Some words not to be used lightly
  
• Students should support women's basketball