My second best made-up holiday tradition

If this hasn't been made clear to you by knowing me or reading some of my previous posts, I'm a huge fan of holiday traditions.  Not necessarily the stupid ones that society tells us to do, but those unique ones that somehow develop within our families or groups of friends.  These not only give us something to look forward to each year, but they strengthen our relationships with those who take part in them with us.

Now, before I present my Valentine's Day tradition, it should be noted that there is much disagreement as to the status of V-Day.  Is it a romantic holiday, or a gigantic cog in the inexorable machine that is American consumerism?  The obvious joke to make is that your view depends on whether or not you're single, but with the wisdom I've gained with age, I realize the far more accurate litmus test is whether or not you're a 14-18 year old girl. 

Well, before I get carried too far away on a different tangent, I'm here to tell you a story:


The greatest two-single-dudes-hanging-out-on-Valentine's-Day ever

The year was 2004.  Just one year had passed since the Ultimate Valentine's Day Triple Date of 2003, and a lot had changed.  I had no girlfriend.  No date.  No plans.  All I had was one friend, Jon, who also had none of those things.  He wasn't like a mental projection of myself or anything; Jon is a common name.

So Jon and I went to our college's worst cafeteria ("the 'Stro") and had Valentine's Day dinner for two.  This place was usually packed with smelly, nerdy misfits, but alas, on this most romantic of nights, even they had dates.  The emptiness of the place should have suffused our souls with despair.  But there's something about the company of a good friend that can cause light to shine in a dark place.  And if you haven't gotten the picture, an empty "the 'Stro" on V-Day is a dark, dark place.

But our friendship (we called it "The Alliance" because A. we were the only single guys around, and B. naming friendships is cool, right?) kept our spirits high.  That night, eating what was probably macaroni 'n cheese and Cap'n Crunch, we reflected on life, and love.  This means we made fun of our friends who had dates.

In all this contemplation, one of us Jons pondered, "What do you think we'll all be doing next year on Valentine's Day?"  And thus, Valentine's Predictions were born.


The tradition's evolution and struggle to survive

So that night, and the remaining three V-Days of college, no matter whom we were dating or how many tears we were shedding into empty Ben & Jerry's containers, Jon and I would meet to predict how (or, more accurately, with whom) we and each of our friends would spend next year's Valentine's Day.  This was clearly the tradition's golden age.

But life moves on, whether I want it to or not.  We graduated, Jon got married, I moved to Pittsburgh, Jon became a father... you know the drill.  I was faced with three options -- let the tradition die (too sad), do the predictions by myself (too sad), or find a replacement for Jon.  And so, the last few years my friend Matt has filled in admirably for Jonny.

But life moves on, whether I want it to or not.  We graduated, Matt moved to Virginia, I became a missionary, Matt moved to Africa, I grew out my beard, Matt moved back to Virginia... you know the drill.  Sadly, it just dawned on me last night that Matt is now out of V-Day Predictions, and so I had no time for a real replacement search.

If Christmas Eve Eve is any indication, when a friend drops out of a cherished holiday tradition, my sister is usually waiting in the wings to fill in (read: is willing to patronize me and prevent my traditions and dreams from dying).  And so, as of last night, for at least one Valentine's Day, my sister is my co-predictor.


What about you?

Are you a 14-18 year old gi--- um, that is, do you like Valentine's Day?

Do you have any awesome or hilariously awful Valentine's Day stories?

Jon