Valentine's Day: Romance, Love, Dawson, et al.

I'm not big on romance as a pasttime. Nope. Sorry, there are many other less destructive hobbies out there. Romance movies are the worst.
In every romance flick, there is always some stallion that'll do just about anything for their love. And I mean anything, at any cost  (and by "cost" I mean the movie production "cost"). These stories set the average romance-fiending women up for a world of disappointment. Is your Brad Pitt going to cry and do something extraordinary just to say, "hi" to you? Is your Ewan McGregor going to buy a grazzillion yellow flowers to say, "I think you're swell, let's go on a date"?

Is your Lola going to Run for an hour and a half just so you don't get killed by mobsters?

Odds are, probably not. This, my friends, is the plight of the dating and relationship worlds--especially during the Valentine's Day whirlwind of emotions. Everyone is forced to watch insipid romance movies whilst eating entire Whitman's samplers. All the women sigh, looking over at their spouses and thinking, "Why can't he be more like Dawson?"
And there it is: Dawson is the reason that Valentine's Day is so crappy for dudes.
Fortunately, he has vowed to fix this problem:


Your special someone cannot walk on a sea of New Yorkers a 'la Crocodile Dundee just to say, "G'day! Marry me?"
But will yours get you a tissue? Maybe a glass of water?

Romance and love really don't have a whole lot in common. Romance is based purely on the need to acquire something. Love is the thing you have once the romance is gone.

I said "yes" to my husbands proposal, not because he was in a hot-air balloon over my house, but because he realized I was right for him while he was watching Predator vs. Alien. That's honesty! If you have to leave a movie theater mid-alien slaughter to propose to your girlfriend, then I think you're in for a fine life together.

So go easy on your spouse tomorrow if they don't magically develop a Brad six-pack or Angelina boobs. Be gentle if they don't end up reading your mind...again.  And just say thanks for the Whitman's.