The After VD (By Which I Mean Valentine’s Day) Party Party

Like I’m assuming the rest of you have been doing, I’ve been going through my shoe box of old photos, looking for pictures of flowers or teddy bears that somebody gave me or anything else Valentine-related in an attempt to prove my lovability. What’s that you say?  You haven’t been doing that?  Oh.  Well, moving right along, I didn’t find any teddy bears or flowers, natch, but I did come across this photo that has “After VD party. I love my friends!” scribbled on the back.  And no, I was not referring to any kind of venereal disease.  I was (am) one of those immature people that thinks it’s funny to call Valentine’s Day “VD”.  I remember the occasion well…

It was in the loser dorm. Those of us that were dateless threw a little party in the common room with burnt cupcakes that we made in the dorm kitchen. I recall chain-smoking my dearly beloved and long departed Marlboro reds in order to avoid eating any of them, then going back down to my dorm room to cry in solitude over some cheesy dude that I’ve nearly forgotten now.  Lying there on my little bed, probably listening to Neil Young or maybe even something like Joni Mitchell, my dorm buddies burst into my room and took this picture.  That’s why I look like a surprised, possibly heroin-addicted raccoon, with my mascara smeared all under my eyes. We all took pictures of each other to document our solitary, unloved status on VD, which led to a lot of silliness and hilarity and fun.  By the way, that’s not my hair sticking way up like that; my hair ended with the weird blue knit hair band thing. The rest of that is either a shadow or the blackness of my soul seeping out and showing up eerily in the picture.  Anyway, if you are alone and sad on VD, I give you permission to stare at my hideous picture and know that you are not alone in your suffering.  Also, consider the sad tale of Walter Egan.

Like everyone else, Walter Egan was infatuated with Stevie Nicks, except that his love had some basis in reality since he actually knew her. In fact, you can hear her singing in the background on this song.  Of course, Walter being one of us – things didn’t work out. Just look at him, the poor lovesick sap, standing there so awkwardly between Stevie and Lindsey, trying to pretend like everything is fine.  And just look at Lindsey, standing there so confident and arrogant with his shirt unbuttoned way down low, trying to show off his chest hair.  Rips your heart out. Don’t worry, Walter, I pick you over Lindsey. Not that you care, especially if you’ve seen my after VD party picture.  But I feel your pain, Walter Egan, I really do.

I love this song and it’s my Valentine, in addition to the Thigh Master ad, to all of my readers and followers because…

With you I’m not shy to show the way I feel,
With you I might try my secrets to reveal,
For you are a magnet and I am steel.

Our friend Walter also wrote the beautiful “Hearts on Fire”, which was recorded by Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris on one of my favorite albums, Grievous Angel.  Perfect.

Questions?  Comments?  Please share!