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My love is like an artichoke. It may sound strange, but true. I keep the outer leaves for me. But the heart I give to you.
Ah, love is in the air and men of all ages become poets extraordinaire. I better keep my day job, eh?
Valentine’s Day is marked with candy hearts, freshly cut flowers and nearly a billion cards each year. Will you be my valentine? That question presumes a romantic gesture, but what if your honey is asking you to meet him at one of George “Bugs” Moran’s garages? History does have a way of repeating, you know.
The holiday dates back to the Middle Ages, with romantic middle-agers giving gifts to prospective lovers. The holiday’s origins vary, but my favorite version is that it evolved from worshipers of the pagan Lupercalia festival. Lupercalia commemorated the beginning of spring, celebrated on the Ides of Februarius (the 15th), and was considered a time for purification.
Dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, it was a fertility festival.
The city would sacrifice a goat. Then two sons of noblemen would be drenched in the blood, they’d wipe most of it off with skins ripped off the dead goats (which would first be ceremonially dipped in goat milk).
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