Editor�s Note

If Halloween is my favourite holiday, Valentine�s Day has got to be the one I hate the most. Anybody who knows me even a little bit will not find this at all surprising.

I�d much rather enjoy a day filled with ghosts, ghouls and zombies than one dominated by the curses of cherubs, flowers and hearts � unless, of course, those hearts have been pulled, still beating, from the chests of hapless co-eds on a deserted country road.

I�m not one of those Valentine�s Day haters who�s bitter because nobody loves him. I don�t hate it because I feel like it�s an insidious plot cooked up by a cabal of card companies, flower growers and candy makers to bilk hapless males out of huge amounts of money once a year. It probably is, though. And I�m not just being curmudgeonly, either � at least not about this.

According to my highly scientific research, which basically amounts to me asking my friends for their opinions, it�s widely known in Thailand that Americans are unromantic. Compounding that troubling fact is that we are also well-known as cheapskates. Alone, either of these qualities is enough to cause trouble. But together, they�re an extremely dangerous combination � especially when it comes to Valentines Day.

I can�t speak for all of my fellow countrymen, but I don�t think that being called cheap and unromantic is really fair. Actually, I prefer the term practical to unromantic, and I believe that rather than cheap, I�m thrifty � a semantic distinction, perhaps, but an important difference to me.

As a practical guy, I hate the idea of wasting � yes, wasting � money on flowers that will die within a matter of days, cards that, let�s face it, nobody really cares about anyway (sorry, Hallmark) or chocolates that are just going to pack on the pounds and cause even more trouble when the �Does this make me look fat?� question inevitably rears it�s ugly head.

I�ve always been a firm believer that the best gifts are the most sensible and useful ones. This attitude has proved to be inexplicably difficult for my parents to understand every time Christmas rolls around. They ask what I�d like this year, and I always tell them that I want socks and underwear. I know they�d rather get me something fun. But you know what? I can always use more socks and underwear, and not having to buy them myself is a big treat for me.

Likewise, practical gifts on Valentines Day would make a lot more sense. Why not a lovely mop instead of roses? Rather than chocolates, why not splurge on a family-sized package of the soft toilet paper for a change? Those things are useful. Those things I understand.

But once again this year, while I�m suffering through another endless quest for bouquets and bonbons, my mind will be far away, wistfully dreaming of quilted, two-ply softness and wishing I wasn�t so stingy, unromantic and misunderstood.

Sean Vale
Editor
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