Give Love, Receive Love

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

Ever since February 14, 1929--on 2122 N. Clark--when six gangsters were machine-guned to death, Chicago has had a notorious relationship with Valentine's Day. And while the story of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre has lived on in infamy, luckily it's negative energy hasn't creeped on down to my humble place of residence on the southside.

As an adult, Valentine's Day is one of my two all time favorite American holidays. Red, white, and pink are everywhere, flower stores are crowded, and love is in the air. LOVE. You can't get enough of that.

For many people, V-Day is not a lot of fun. As witnessed by phrases like CRYDAY THE 13th (to describe the dateless before Valentine's Day). But fortunately, I haven't had too many V-Day depression spells.

Why?

Because when I was 19, and a sophomore in college, I applied a phrase often associated with Christmas to V-Day:

It is better to give than to receive.

What better sentiment to apply on the day of LOVE? V-Day isn't about being boo-ed up. It is about LOVE, and sharing that love. So on my 19th (and first enlightened V-Day) I went to the bakery and got a parcel of 15 shortbread raspberry heart cookies. Then I went and bought a V-Day Whitman's Chocolate Sampler. Finally I stopped by the flower shop and bought my self the biggest bouqet of non-cliché, non-rose flowers--and I walked my big ass around campus and let people know that someone loved Bernard Bradshaw (or someone was about to get some love from him). People would stop and ask:

Did someone give you those flowers? or Who are you taking flowers to?

Then I would go to my close friends and associates and hand out the chocolates and cookies. It was great seeing the smiles on people's faces. And it felt so good. Because of instead of feeling depressed, sitting up in my room WAITING for someone to give me Valentine's, I was too busy feeling happy GIVING things to other people. It's a tradition I've kept up since.

Now that's not to say that I have been Boo-less my entire life. I have been fortunate to spend a few V-Days with a couple of romantic dates. And my all time best one was with FRIEND (who's who) on Valentine's 2003.

FRIEND took off from work and I told him to meet me for dinner downtown on Chicago's Magnificent Mile. I decided to surprise him. I rented a room at the fabulous Hotel Intercontinental (505 N. Michicagn Ave) and placed rose petals on the floor, the bed and in the bathtub. I placed tea candles everywhere, set the computer to play a bunch of R&B classics, sprinkled rose petals on the bed, and in the tub, stocked bottles of Martinelli's in the minibar, and burned champa incense to infuse the air with romance.

I went downstairs and met FRIEND on the corner of Michigan and Ohio and told him that we were going to dinner at a restaurant in the Intercontinental. We got on the elevator and I pressed the button for the restaurant, and "accidentally" pressed the floor of the room. When the elevator doors opened I told him to step off. He grinned and I led him to the hotel room.

When we got in, he surveyed the lavish room and smiled. We made candlelit love to that music for hours before we came up for air. We ate dinner across the street at Heaven on Seven (111 N. Wabash), before coming back to the room and getting back to business. Somewhere around 2AM we passed out in the scarlet and maroon velvet comforters with rose petals stuck to our backs.