Monday, February 14, 2011


Well, another Valentine's is here. Counting my prison term, this is the 15th one I've spent alone--without a romantic partner. And what amazes me is that this thought wasn't even in my mind until I started writing this blog post. I am not upset or depressed or even feeling deprived. This is either a sign of inner peace, or rampant mental deterioration. I prefer thinking of it as the former.

Not that I'm really alone. I've had some lovely contact via phone and email with the beautiful Rupa in Vermont. And I sent out over thirty e-Valentines to some very special women. Mostly friends, a few former lovers, and some merely warm acquaintances with the promise of future friendship or whatever.

This continues a habit I formed way back in the 1960s of sending out about 100 Valentines each year. I didn't send Xmas cards, so this was a way for me to keep in touch. Then as now, they didn't only go to romantic interests, but to women I found nurturing in all sorts of ways, including a couple of my favorite cousins and some colleagues. NBCs Andrea Mitchell got them for several years, when we were colleagues and friends at KYW in Philadelphia. When we were close and all involved in the Inside Edge leadership support group, cards went out to Louise Hay, Barbara De Angeles, Susan Jeffers and other new thought leaders and authors.

Having lived in Philadelphia, Miami, New York, Richmond, Virginia, and Los Angeles, a few cards went to each of those cities--and to London and Toronto. For many years, I created my own original cards to send out--and put a lot of time and effort into this practice. One girlfriend was quite upset with my putting so much attention on other women and asked me to promise to never include her on the list if we should ever end our relationship. I never made the promise and she just got one of my e-cards, several decades after our romance ended.

As I get off parole this year, I suspect that this is the last Valentine's Day I will be spending physically alone--so I am going to thoroughly enjoy it, cuddled up with some stunning memories, with a few more phone calls thrown in.
Alas, my MacBook Pro is in the shop, having a new hard drive installed, so I can't do the video phone thing as I am using my spare non-camera equipped IBM Thinkpad to write this.

And the thought just popped into my head that it's a bit incongruent to have the holiday known as Valentine's Day. Shouldn't it be known as Valentine's Night? That's when the candy and flowers and hugs and kisses are usually delivered--unless you're into office romance or adulterous nooners.

One of the most stunning memories I have of this holiday is that in all the years that have gone by, I have never had a sad or upsetting Valentine's. I have loved and been loved through a lot of them by the beautiful women who make up the colorful tapestry of my interpersonal life. And as I look forward to once again being free to travel, to the romantic promise of Vermont, or London, or Panama, or Florida, or even right up the road in San Francisco, I realize that whatever wonderful events occur, my life up to now is going to be a very hard act to follow.

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