Browsing Category General

Many Baby Boomers can recall when they were in grade school, and the teacher requested that on Valentine’s Day each student bring Valentine’s Day cards to exchange with all of the other boys and girls in class, assuring that everyone in the class received a card.  We usually exchanged, brightly colored, flat paper cards, imprinted with simple one line words of endearment, or catchy verses like “Roses are red. Violets are blue. Sugar is sweet and so are you.”  In addition, each student made cards for our moms by cutting red construction paper in the shape of a heart, and then gluing white paper to the heart to create a lacy border. We also made valentines which were taped on the door and walls around the classroom. 

Fast forward to the years following my high school graduation, when Valentine’s Day brought me gifts of candy, flowers, concert dates, and dinner at nice restaurants — or nothing at all –depending on who I was romantically involved with at the time.  Whether people like Valentine’s Day or not, many will honestly admit that it is a day when one can easily get caught up in memories of relationships past and present.

As I have matured, Valentine’s Day has come to mean more than flowers and evenings out.  From the wisdom acquired with age, I realize that I received my best Valentine’s Day’s gift ever, some decades ago, on February 12^th , when my now grown son came bouncing into the world at 8 pounds and 5 ounces.  Although my 20 year old self, was ecstatic about his birth, I thought that the date of his arrival wasn’t as cool as it would have been had he waited two more days to make his grand entrance on the 14^th.  But my husband and I told ourselves that his arrival on Abe Lincoln’s birthday could signify that he was destined to accomplish great things, and might even grow up to be President of the United States.  Well, the closest my son came to the U.S. Presidency was when he proudly stood beneath the Jumbotron on the National Mall during the Inauguration of Barack Obama.  So, I didn’t raise a Commander-in-Chief, but my pre-Valentine’s Day baby grew up to be an entrepreneur, an upstanding citizen and a wonderful son, and he will always be my Valentine.

My only other child, my lovely daughter wasn’t a Valentine’s Day baby either, but regardless she too is my forever Valentine. In addition, my parents who raised, nurtured and encouraged me throughout my life are my Valentines; as well as my grandchildren, siblings, special aunts and uncles, cousins, my dearest friends, and especially my Boo.  Mine is not just a one day affair on February 14^th, I have every day Valentines.

How many people do you know to whom you can tell a secret and know that it will never be told? Some people don’t believe that there is a single soul who can not tell a secret. Benjamin Franklin may have been one of the skeptics when he wrote in Poor Richard’s Almanac “Three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead.”  

I don’t need to tell you that there are many and various reasons why people keep secrets. Do I?  Consider this, if someone tells you a secret about someone else, it is more likely gossip and the person sharing the confidential information is merely – and eagerly – engaging in a crafty variation of The Telephone Game, frequently referred to as the “Pass-It-On” game.  Because people love to talk about other people’s lives, the person who originally tells you the secret, for added drama may say, “I am only telling this to you. If I hear it again, I will know who it came from.” That veiled threat is to hold you to confidence, so that the spiller of the secret can continue to tell it to others – before you do.  

However, if the secret is about the person who shared it with you, then she obviously expects (while crossing her fingers and toes) that you will keep her secret. Would you? A woman may want to share her secret only with her closet friend, perhaps because she feels the need to discuss it with someone who she believes she can trust to keep it to herself. But we know human nature, and regardless of whether it sounds sexist for me to say what I am about to say I’m saying it – I believe that men keep secrets better than women.  A woman HAS to tell someone.  After all, what is the point of having a secret if you can’t share? It’s okay, you can agree. Even if a woman shares her personal secret with her best friend, chances are nine to one that her best friend will tell her best friend who will tell someone else and before you can say, “Breaking News” the secret is public knowledge. So the bearer of the secret conceals it like a winning poker hand. Maybe one day she will decide to reveal her secret, but even if she does not, hopefully she will not have killed two other people in order to keep it.

The way I see it, there is a little Green-Eyed Monster inside all of us.  It is more ferocious in some than others. At its worst, it has driven some people to do the unthinkable, but even at its best, the crafty beast has been known to cause intense rivalry among friends, co-workers, neighbors, and even within families.

The monster’s alias may not be recognizable to all, but many know it as “jealousy and envy.” It is a dual spirit that makes its vulnerable host covet the possessions, social status or advantages held by another person.  A willing participant in the monster’s game can be easily led to emotional or financial bankruptcy while trying to keep up with the Jones. Some conscientious folk refuse to be lured by old Green-Eyes, but egotists are easy prey and they eagerly play the game.

People are peculiar.  As long as they perceive that you are at the same social or economic level as they are, they have no problem, but as soon as you appear to gain a step up or veer in a different or more positive direction, the monster within the straggler awakens.

Picture a hypothetical family. Intermittently, forty-year old Harvey purchases a pricey new car, moves into a large house, and buys a 42 inch LCD TV. Harvey’s cousin, Abby, around the same age as Harvey refuses be outdone. Although she can barely afford it, she makes sure that their family and mutual friends know that she outdid Harvey, because she bought a more expensive car, a larger house, and a 46 inch Plasma.

Harvey’s younger sister Eloise is promoted to floor manager at the department store where she works, and immediately telephones her favorite Aunt Mabel to share her good fortune. She receives the expected well-wishes and “Congratulations!” from her aunt.  A couple of days later, Aunt Mabel’s crafty daughter, Genevieve , who thrives on one-upmanship, phones Eloise and causally mentions to her, “Oh, by the way, did I tell you that I was promoted to Vice President on my job”?  Need I say that the Green-Eyed Monster also encourages habitual lying?

People may criticize and judge you, but they don’t know what sacrifices you endured to get where you are. Jealousy and envy are not limited to any particular racial group, gender, class, or age. The Green-Eyed Monster runs across the board of humanity like a rabid dog. Self-confident people will refuse to nurture the fiend, but within the psyche of insecure people lays the angst that triggers intense rivalry, causing them to get so wrapped up in competitiveness that they fail to realize that tit-for-tat interplay is an unending contest. There will always be people who have more or less than others. Unless you are mired in the quicksand of self-deprecation and low self-esteem, all you need to do to quash the Green-Eyed Monster is to simply opt out of playing the game.