I don’t want red roses, or teddy bears. I don’t need a box of candy. I have no desire to fight the masses at the nicer restaurants. However, I do want a card. This year will mark the 21st year The Angler and I have exchanged Valentines. Cards have become our tradition.
The Angler and I have known each other since 5th grade. We grew up in a community split by a railroad track. East vs. West. He lived in a nice house with a nice family… on the other side of the tracks. ( I like to emphasize“other side of the tracks” to make him sound dangerous) We attended the same church, same Sunday school, same choir practice, same youth activities for years. We never spoke to each other.
When U2’s documentary “Rattle and Hum” hit the Malco Trio, we were the only two people in the theater. Our friends watched Chucky next door. We struck up a conversation. I liked his taste in music. I liked his Sebagos. I liked his Polo sweater. (I was very deep at the age of 14) The next week he told my girlfriend I was “cute”. I was smitten. 
With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I made the daring decision to mail him a card. I wasn’t allowed to call boys. I was allowed to send mail…because my mother worked at the local Hallmark ( For you youngsters – this is what we did before twitter, facebook, texts, and e-cards)
Going through our office closet this week, I found a rusty old popcorn tin. I pried open the dented lid. Inside I found all the cards and letters I sent him through all our moves in high school and college. I even found the red envelope addressed to his house on the other side of the tracks, the return address of my house with my favorite peach bedroom. A peek inside I had written:
“ …I’m glad we’ve gotten closer in the last few weeks. You always seem to cheer me up, when I’m in a bad mood. You always make me laugh at your jokes – even though they are stale. I’m still amazed with your card tricks – even if I know half of them. You are great guy filled with talent, humor, and good looks (not necessarily in that order). I hope you have a wonderful Valentine’s Day.”
And then I signed it with my first AND last name.
In an innocent fourteen year old girl way, it was a sweet, funny valentine. Valentine’s night he called me for the very first time. The card worked! Twenty one years later, he still cheers me up when I’m in a bad mood. He still tells stale jokes and I laugh. I haven’t seen any card tricks in awhile – but he is pretty handy with a computer. Twenty one years later we’ve been through the better (and the worse), through the richer (and the poorer), and I am still glad I mailed that card. He was my first “real” Valentine… and he remains my very favorite one.
Happy Valentines Day, ya’ll!
by boots
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