Forty-Five

I will refrain from remarking about the crass commercialism that has, for years, hijacked February 14. I will not say that Hallmark et al have cleverly woven into a celebration of love a suggestion that failure to spend appropriately is a sign of love gone stale.  I will withhold comments about the use of guilt to pry money from the pockets of people who can ill afford to pay Cupid for his stunning love nest but who spend recklessly, nevertheless, out of devotion to capitalism gone awry.  Instead, I’ll just keep mum on the topic.