Me, Myself and iTunes

The soundtrack of my life is filled with various playlists. It’s just that I have never considered an Anti-Valentine’s Day playlist—until now. The music that grabs me at the core includes symphonic, Rock&Roll, Jazz, R&B, Gregorian chants, country, soul. Well, you get it: five lines and four spaces with a verbal message or melodic message. You name it, I can like it—eventually.

My collection of vinyl, cassettes, reel-to-reels, and eight-tracks preceded my collection of various generations of Shuffle, Nano and generational iPods. (I can’t believe I’ve been on the planet long enough to see that much change in technology—and music.) Anyway, I’m pretty sure I can come up with a playlist for Anti-Valentine’s Day because I know all about it. But when creating an Anti-Valentine’s Day playlist, you need to know why you are Anti-Valentine’s Day (at least that's what my therapist thinks). One size does not fit all. So here are several sizes to fit most.

Take a walk with me, if you will. A lot of us learned about Valentine’s Day when we started socializing at school. In kindergarten or first grade, you were oblivious to dating or needing a boyfriend or girlfriend for that special day. All you had to do was hand out those little Valentine’s cards that your mom bought for the whole class—and one for the teacher.

Then came the time just before middle school, maybe around ten- or eleven-years-old, you started looking for “prospects”, even though you weren’t really sure what a prospect was. Your friends started to have an influence on your decisions at that time. Remember that there was always that one friend with the older sister or brother that they eavesdropped on, only to get part of the information for dating? You really weren't interested in your friend’s choice for you because you saw your prospect examine a booger with the same hand he gave you a Valentine card with. You learned a valuable lesson right then: touching a booger-ladened card builds character and antibodies. I think back to my ten-year-old self and would have chosen an unsuitable, unladylike physical reaction. (I resisted building character as long as I could.)

Seventh and eighth grades are too traumatic to talk about, even for this format. I'm sure I've sent my therapist’s children to Ivy League schools trying to figure out that time in my life; therefore, on to what high school has done to kill us softly with Valentine’s Day crap.

High school was when stuff got really real for Valentine’s Day. Talk about overkill! You remember when guys would spend a wad of cash buying flowers and candy and oversized teddy bears that distracted everyone in history class. Right? They would walk (in slow motion with an invisible fan blowing their hair back) down the halls toward the object of their affection, and she would stand there pretending not to see him coming. Disgust on steroids!

This was when someone (other than me) should have been doing the math on Valentine’s Day expenditures. His folks were spending a boatload on crap that would be gone by February 16th. Little did these guys realize that this was the beginning of a tradition that would cost them dearly. The price of the heartfelt gifts would increase considerably. Apparently, they didn't hear a word Mr. Broadneck said in civics class. He explained inflation ad nauseam, and they certainly weren’t paying attention to how they were being played like a fiddle. I guess nobody told them that some fiddles are traded up for Stradivariuses. Mo’ money. Mo’ money. Mo’ money. They were being groomed like a madam grooms her girls.

This deep dive into making an Anti-Valentine’s Day playlist is headed towards anti-high school for me. Pump your breaks on feeling sorry for me though. I had lots of offers from guys, but I was nerdy and I feigned being coy. I knew the two attributes mixed about as well as oil and water, so it was all good for me: no takers. Truth be told, I would have been happier going out with somebody’s sister instead of the jockstraps that came my way. Whew! I dodged a few bullets there.

Right here we should logically discuss college and grad school, but let’s skip that, too. I’m not ready to talk about the freshman 15 yet, so let’s just jump right into adulthood. Ever notice how so many couples (actually, one person in the couple) puts a premium on Valentine’s Day? Even in a pandemic, people will risk life and limb to get the perfect dress, the perfect reservation, and/or the perfect red or chocolate anything. And it’s all to make the other person feel special? Seriously? So, the other 364 days of a typical year are just, what, I like you? Or I tolerate this relationship because I don’t want to be alone? Pump your breaks here, too, because feeling special is a good thing.

Making your partner a priority—especially on February 14th—is key in any relationship. Perhaps if that behavior was chronic and not acute you wouldn’t have to spend so much in one day. And what about liking yourself? Make the day about both of you instead of one of you. Treating yourself special as well as your partner is golden. My relationship with me (my partner this year) is better than any relationship I have ever had because I feel special. (My therapist told me to write that in my journal every day. I think it's to justify her fee.) I know this seems to be more about me and less about the playlist, but trust me, there’s a method to my madness. Now, where was I?

That slippery slope of overspending on Valentine’s Day has sent many a person sliding into poverty and/or heartache. To compound the issue, when the gifts you give are not equal to the gifts you receive, you pretend that it’s the thought that counts. Yeah, right! You know you are not a happy camper when your significant other brings you a giant mylar balloon and a bouquet he picked up from the corner store. Or she’s conveniently held up at work and will have to skip the reservation it took you three months to get at Chez MoneyBeGone.

As you can see from this research of Anti-Valentine’s Day music, there are a number of reasons to be a committed Anti-Valentine’s Day devotee. And, by the way, I actually asked several people I know, who are Anti-Valentine’s Day loyalists, what drives them. Most of them are just anti-spending and pretending, but I think it’s also about optics. Who wants to huddle around the water cooler on the 15th and not have a great story to tell about all the romance and perks from the night before? can manipulate it so it is all-encompassing. (In one of my therapy sessions, I learned that I could really spin a story. Who knew?) That takes us to the various Anti-Valentine’s Day playlists. Finally, you say.

First of all, there’s the playlist for the people who were really messed over in a relationship. I mean “I could kill you” life-changing events, but they learned character a long time ago. Presenting the “I Need Therapy” playlist. The full, formal name is the “I Need Therapy, But I Can't Afford to Go Because You Took Everything I Had” playlist.

That usually leads to revenge in some form. People who have been scorned are not to be messed with—not right away. They don’t realize that an eye for an eye leaves both people blind and they don’t care! This is the “Revenge is On the Horizon” playlist. When this is your Anti-Valentine’s Day playlist, you are headed for big trouble. Or a new relationship. Or both.

If that group of people listening to the aforementioned playlist doesn’t get help from a professional, they will seek the less expensive of the therapists—their mother. This playlist, “(Don’t) Listen to Your Mother”, is somewhat beneficial, but comes with a heavy price: your mother will never approve of anyone you introduce her to thereafter. (Your fault.)

And don’t you just love people who need the “My Partner Cheated, But Thinks We Can Get Past It” playlist? Listening to this playlist instead of just buying some Valentine’s Day something will just land them back in the ex’s arms.

And my all-time favorite playlist: “I Just Wanna Party”. Anti-Valentiners who listen to this playlist have got it right. No gifts. No commitment. No nothin’ but a good time. I mean, why waste a good day being pissed? Ain’t nobody got time for that.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention a special playlist for those who are Anti-Valentine’s Day but are happy in their current relationship. I think these crazy kids are the lucky ones. Presenting the “Love Wins” playlist. They're the ones who also have managed to have disposable cash on February 15th.

OK. OK. You were right: this story is about me, the poster child for Anti-Valentine's Day. And yes, these are the playlists I've used on various Valentine's Days. But you must admit: these songs are da bomb! So, get some adult beverages and snacks, and gather some friends who share your sentiment of this day of commercial overkill and lengthy love laments, and invite them to celebrate Anti-Valentine’s Day with you.

If they’re not in your immediate living pod, put on your mask and take the party to the roof, in the street, or sign in on Zoom and shake your groove thang all day and night. You’re bound to open up Pandora’s box of Anti-Valentine memories and, I’m told, medicinal marijuana will help ease the pain and mellow you out. It will even make you sound smarter. Maybe that new hookup is listening. So, as Bob Marley advocates: