As a lot of people know, there's a day of great importance coming up this week. It is a day that brings people together, a day on which we are encouraged to express our feelings towards one another. Gifts are exchanged often, and, in theory, one leaves the day with a cliched warm and fuzzy feeling inside.
I am talking, of course, about February 15th, otherwise known as "Joe G.'s Birthday".
Now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'Joe! I can't believe I completely forgot your birthday!' It's okay, really. Happens all the time. In fact, the majority of people that I encounter on that day probably won't even acknowledge my existence, much less that it's my birthday and that they should be nice to me for no other reason than that happens to be the day that, 23 years ago, I popped out of my mother's womb. It's a fact that I have, over the course of my 22 previous birthdays, come to accept: no one really cares that much.
Could it be that the placement of my birthday, on the day after the accursed St. Valentine's Day, is what causes this total lack of interest in my happiness? Valentine's Day is a taxing affair, requiring a lot of attention and thought, at least for those who either a) have someone to celebrate it with or b) decide that they want to find someone just as desperate as they are to spend it with. A lot of sweat goes into planning a successful Valentine's Day - just ask the people at Hallmark. As a result of this hard work, I can understand why people would be less than enthusiastic about yet another national holiday not even twenty-four hours later. It's draining to be that happy for that long.
I have always taken this into account, of course, and have, as such, never taken part in Valentine's Day festivities with anyone. I have to save my energy for the following day, and, really, what's more important: a celebration of my love for someone else, or a celebration of my very life? It's clearly the latter. Because, honestly, every other day of the year should be a celebration of the former, albeit on a smaller scale, but still. I do not disparage the sentiment behind Valentine's Day; I'd just rather it fell somewhere else in the year. Perhaps in June. Nothing ever happens in June.
In fact, I feel that moving Valentine's Day to June would clear up a lot of the 'holiday clumping' that occurs throughout the year. Most major holidays appear around the ends of the year, with Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, and Valentine's Day all falling within consecutive months. That's quite a bit of money to be spent in a five month span. Moving Valentine's Day to June would alleviate some of the burden on consumers' wallets, and allow people more time to think of bigger and better ways of expressing their affection for a loved one. (On second thought, maybe that's not such a good idea.) The money saved by consumers could then be put to better use - supporting charities, paying off debts, and funding the appropriate worldwide celebration of February 15th.
So I say, this year, on February 14th, do not celebrate Valentine's Day. Instead, celebrate Joe G.'s Birthday Eve. At the stroke of midnight, instead of turning to the person that you love and kissing them passionately, turn to me, and think of all the money that I saved you from buying flowers and candy and cards and singing telegrams and jewelry and hookers and dinner and movie tickets and condoms. And then give that money to me.
It is my birthday, after all.
