“Lurv” And Modern Society.
Today is St Valentine, which is rapidly advancing to Stupidest Day of the Year (after Halloween).
Countless people will go out and eat in an expensive restaurant with their second of third spouse, to which they will probably (if we are lucky) express their undying faith in eternal love. Restaurants owners milk this for all they can, and I have heard a couple of colleagues moan aloud already (whether they dared to do it at home, I did not want to ask).
My parents never ever went out for St Valentine, as their generation did not have money for such luxuries. They made children instead, funny people as they were. Fifty years of happy marriage, though. I wonder about all those third-marriage, “romantic and very expensive restaurant” couples.
St Valentine is a good indicator of our modern world. Marriages get more and more expensive, and their average life gets increasingly shorter. It’s fair to say a good minority of marriage live less long than a car. But the business of “lurv” goes on undeterred.
I read some ten years ago a statistic of divorces in Frankfurt am Main, Germany: 70% in the first ten years. Congratulations to the Bride and the Bridegroom. Better to decide now who will keep the new car, though…
I remember seeing a romantic comedy called “The Heartbreak Kid” some years ago. He marries twice in two or three years’ time. She marries “only” once. At the end they marry each other, but hey, they “understand what it is to be married to someone you don’t love”. No, they were not talking of buying a wrong garment. They were talking of marriage.
Americans must have found the entire “three divorces in one and a half hour” funnily romantic. I do not even know a single Italian who was married twice. Not even a widower! To me it wasn’t romantic at all. It was madness.
“Love” has become a commodity at high content of fluff, a very expensive chasing of a dream which, once dreamt, will be substituted by another dream, and so on.
I once was at a business dinner with a chap in his early Sixties. His children had children, but he was talking at lenght about his “girlfriend”. I felt pity for the poor man, but he seemed to be living a sort of mini adrenaline rush, and hoping that this state of excitement never ends.
Oh it will. Leaving, perhaps, another broken family.
I am sure the man had very expensive St Valentine Day’s dinners. These people are the joy of restaurant owners.