No, it sucks

I hate love. I also hate spending money, especially on greeting cards. Therefore, it should come as no surprise to anyone reading this column that I hate, and I mean hate, President’s Day. I also happen to dislike Valentine’s Day, and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that I tend to always be single and senselessly crying myself to sleep on Feb. 14.

My hatred for Valentine’s Day is the same hatred I have for year-long commitments and the silliness surrounding the birth of Jesus, because they’ve created this expectation wherein you need to shell out massive amounts of money in order to show someone you “care.” What used to be celebrations of life and love have become celebrations of diamond rings and new cars.

Obviously, we’re college students, so we’re not buying diamond rings or sports cars for the people we love (or I hope we’re not). But there’s still that expectation that you have to go out somewhere fancy for dinner, or buy some gift that cost you a paycheck or two, because you want people to know that you love them.

But the weird thing is, I could have sworn they invented the phrase, “I love you,” for this purpose. Apparently, money speaks louder than words.

And the worst part is, when you don’t buy them something, they hate you for it. Yeah, you could have said “Happy Birthday” and “I love you” a hundred times over, but if there’s no wrapped-up box waiting for them in the living room, you’re going to be getting a lot of flack for months, if not years to come. You can be sure that every time you argue with them, they’ll bring it up.

Mind you, I don’t want this column to sound as if I were putting all the blame on women — although let’s be honest: It’s always their fault. Men are also guilty of having high expectations when it comes to what should happen on their birthdays and such.

If anything’s to blame, it’s our culture. We’re so obsessed with consumption and materialistic ideals that we forget how to just care about someone without it being wrapped in shiny paper. All the commercials from Victoria’s Secret and jewelry stores blast messages such as, “Show her you care!” or “Make this Valentine’s Day a day to remember!” But I’m not sure if you’ll remember it more for her happiness, or the fact that you won’t be paying next month’s rent on time.

That’s why I not only hate love, but also think it’s not worth it anymore. How can I really care about someone if it’s always going to have a price tag attached to it?

[Reach columnist Eric Uthus at opinion@thedaily.washington.edu.]

Yes, it's great

I love love. It’s great. I also love greeting cards. Love is very much worth the money, contrary to the bitter claims of my love-starved colleague across the aisle.

Just because I spent my Valentine’s Day staring into the bleak abyss of my own singleness doesn’t mean that I’m as bitter as Mr. Uthus. On the contrary, it has convinced me that the reason he hates love is the same reason why I spent yesterday alone: I’m not rich enough to “buy” love (and not that way, guys, yeesh).

The sad truth is that girlfriends are expensive — sometimes very expensive indeed. Even the frugal ones — those who are OK eating off the dollar menu at McDonald’s and renting free movies from the library — need some sort of funding for proper relationship maintenance. Gas money, coffee money and money for discounted student tickets is still money, and money isn’t cheap, the last time I checked (the book of love, that is).

I, like many of my single, male peers, can barely afford to support myself, let alone a woman, in a dating relationship. I could perhaps support a live-in mouse, but even that would be pushing it. If the mouse had a job, I could live with it. OK, that might be a little weird.

But if I had the money, love would be worth it.

And despite what girls say, they like money, too. Money buys things like roses, chocolate, rings, cars, houses, babies and retirement plans, in that order (note the healthy progression). There are, of course, those few girls who want you for your money. Thankfully, that’s not my biggest concern. I’ll explain.

When I’m asked about my major(s), “journalism” and “history” are the two words that drive fear deep into the icy hearts of the money-grubbers of the female persuasion. Anticipated poverty is great: Only a girl who’s true of heart would ever want to date a pauper like me.

I can offer only starvation, a severe lack of designer clothes and the rare trip to Costco to any young lady foolish enough to fall into the expansive net of my amorous charms. But as far as they know, I could go on to law school and make über-bucks as a big-shot attorney.

But back to girls liking money: You can’t buy love, but it sure can help. It’s the love of money that’s the problem. The love of women can be facilitated by money, which is motivated by love.

As the Irish playwright George Farquhar once said, “Money is the sinews of love, as of war.” Not that money fuels war, but it does help fund the pursuit of a woman.

That’s one of the reasons why I’m still single, ladies of the UW. It’s because I’m poor. I know I can’t buy your love, but if I can’t buy you dinner, how can I date you and someday wed you?

[Reach columnist Will Mari at opinion@thedaily.washington.edu.]