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First things first.  I know everyone in the world is wondering what I did for Valentines day.  Everyone wants to know what a 53 year old guy did on that one day where guys are forced to the point of constipation to perform.  No.  We’re not talking about in bed because, well, we are talking about a middle aged guy and most of us, with the exception of a chosen few, ceased being sexual titans many moons ago.

I will not keep you in suspense.  I slept in.  I had cream of wheat with a banana chopped up in it and lots, lots, lots of sugar.  Coffee.  Took my son to driving school.  Let him drive the VW on the way home.  Fried a chicken.  Did the taxes.  Gave my wife a card with some chocolate.  Fell asleep on the couch watching ‘Silence of the Lambs’, dark chocolate drool at the corners of my mouth from the heart shaped York peppermint patties that she gave to me.

A census taker once tried to test me.  I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.

So romantic.

…He said “I can smell your cunt”.

I see.  I myself can not.  You use Evian skin cream, and sometimes you use L’Air du Temps, but not today.

Sorry.  The beauty of those lines was in the delivery.  So superior.  Sickness wrapped up in condescending genius.

One more.  Hannibal was such a philosopher.

Nothing makes us more vulnerable than loneliness except greed.

So.

I had a nice Valentines day.

So did my daughter or so it seems.  Her boy went the multiple gift route, took her out to eat, gave her a really nice day.  Everything I hear tells me the boy is in love, is in tune with my girl, and that pleases me.  She is in love.  As each year passes I find myself wondering if this boy is the one who will be the one I call my son.  Valentines takes on a whole new dimension for me as it becomes more significant for my little girl.  Knowing she was smiling made my day, and my wife’s, very satisfying.

My daughter is learning to love, has experienced a bit of the pain that goes with it, still has a way to go and a lot to learn.  If this boy breaks her heart, this will one hurt a lot more, cause a deeper wound.  The wounds go deeper as the love begins to reach into the soul.  I sense a depth that goes beyond the little girl love she has felt before.

Watch it, boy.  I have learned a few things too.

I’m not sure you get wiser as you get older, Starling, but you do learn to dodge a certain amount of hell.