This Valentine's Day I am taking a stand. I'm taking a stand against conformity, a stand against expectations, a stand for my masculinity. This Valentine's Day I am taking a stand against the gratuitously effeminate greeting card industry.
Guys – who's with me?
How can any man feel good about himself when buying a greeting card? I realize that cards should appeal to the givee, but shouldn't they also serve as expressions of the men who buy and give them? I don't know too many guys who need to express their love – and I'm talking about genuine love here – with a six by nine card printed on pink paper, with a pink bow, lavender scent and an 18-line sonnet. Am I wrong, or is that a bit much?
I'm sure there is a market for the overly flamboyant card because there must be some women who appreciate (expect?) such a ridiculous gesture. But I know I'm not the only man sick of the choices (or lack thereof) that are out there.
And while the issue is most distressingly prevalent this time of year, it is not a phenomenon unique to February 14th. A few months ago I tried to buy a birthday card for my mom. Now I know that my mom *expects* a card from me – no gift, just a card. Simple, right? But here's the thing: my mom doesn't want or care about what poem Hallmark has written inside – she won't read the print or acknowledge the embellishments. The card is important to my mom because of what I write and what that means to her.
So what were my choices? The only cards in the "Birthday, Mother" section under $4.99 were a six-fold monstrosity with a pop-up lace heart or another containing a 250-word essay on the importance of mothers. If I wanted to step up to the $7.99 plateau, I could have purchased an oversized card with rhinestones…and who doesn't love rhinestones? They're the international pseudo-stone of well-wishing. Am I the only one who thinks $7.99 is a bit excessive for a birthday card? Apparently I must be; the store sold more cards priced over six dollars than under three.
I soon found the only other "Happy Birthday Mom" cards in the so-called Humor section – "so-called" because all of the "jokes" were spin offs of the old you're-so-old-we-have-to-use-a-fire-extinguisher-to-blow-out-all-the-candles-on-your-cake gag. Yeesh. Obviously, these cards weren't right for me, nor were they right for my mom.
As bad as that was, my 2007 Valentine's Day selection was even worse. Can't there be a happy medium? Why must every card be so disgustingly over the top or atrociously unfunny that I want to puke in my own mouth? Is it too much to ask for some industrious card company executive to design something that doesn't require me to check my masculinity at the door? Here's an idea (Hallmark, feel free to steal this one – I promise I won't sue):
Plain white stock, four by six inches. Front of the card has a simple flower – let's go with a rose because, for some reason, that's what you expect - with the words "Happy Valentine's Day" or "To my Valentine" printed in an attractive font on the bottom. The inside left of the card is blank while the inside right says "A special day; a special woman".
There, that's fairly simple, right? Now, sell that card for $1.99 and I guarantee you won't be able to keep enough on the shelves. Men of this millennium know that we're expected to personalize cards to the women in our lives and actually want to write our own messages; you can trust us to adequately adapt this card for our wives, moms, sisters, etc.
It shouldn't be this difficult, yet it is. Someone has to speak up before another man is forced to castrate himself in order to purchase a simple greeting card, and that someone needs to speak up soon – I've grown quite attached to my testicles and would hate to part company when we have so much left to do together.
And you thought I wasn't a romantic.
3 comments:
My favorite thing about VD is when you’re on the subway or bus and the largest manly burly man is holding a host of foil heart-shaped balloons and in his lap an oversized pink bear extending an “I love you” heart. As much as I hate wandering around a card store for this, the most invented of invented holidays, you gotta give it up to a guy that just doesn’t care how much of a pansy you think he is.
Both of my jobs in high school were unbelievably in party/card stores, one being a Hallmark store. I spent a lot of time critiquing the customers choice of card with co-workers once they exited the store. Like those tri-fold cards with the huge poems on them? That's a lot of words for a greeting card. Personally, I often choose humorous cards, or Hallmark has those "Simply Stated" cards, which are basically the sort of card you described. But anyway. I agree with you, God forbid holidays come to a decrease in testicles for anyone.
As your mother, I am proud that you know I want a card from you, not Hallmark, for occasions (not Valentine's Day, which is not an occasion in my world). However, I am concerned about your comment about puking in your own mouth. Please don't do that. In fact, how would you? Puke in another container and pour it into your mouth? Yuck! Again, please do not attempt that. Your cards are the best!
UM
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