If you are one who is happy to be love-relationshipless, bully for you. Enjoy your cat.

If you are one who is in a love relationship without the love part, fix it or move on. Life is too short to grind off another day without hope or fulfillment. If your supposed “soul mate” doesn’t feed your soul change your diet.

If you are in a happy, loving, sexy, long term, committed, relationship, then you are me. And I’ve waited one hell of a long time to be in that group.

To be frank, I’ve had a terrific dating life… but a dreadful love life. Unlike others, I don’t equate the two. When someone says, “How’s your love life?” they’re really asking about romance and dating. They don’t mean love. That’s why no one ever asks a married person how their love life is... but in truth only people in long term, committed relationships have an actual love life. The rest of you are dating.

Dating is the easy part. Dating is the kindergarten of life. Play around, eat a sandwich, take a nap, go home. That’s dating.

Love is work. I’d explain that but anyone reading this who has had a broken heart, or a failed relationship, or is in the middle of a successful relationship needs no explanation. Love is the work they don’t tell you about while you’re dating. It’s not easy, but nothing worthwhile is. And boy is it ever worthwhile.

The kindergarten of my life was excellent. Enjoyed every minute. Spent more years there than the average human. I was good at it. Beyond that I drew blanks. I’d say 70% of the time is was because of my own problems. 30% was because my problems blinded me to her problems. And 10% was that I didn’t realize I had problems in the first place. Yes, I know that’s 110%. (Go ahead… you know the punch line I’m heading for… so go on. You say it while I move on to the next paragraph.)

(I’ll wait here until you’re done chuckling over that snappy punch line… waiting… la ti da… scooby dooby doo… and you’re back.) So digressing for a moment… Legend has it that in Italy, Saint Valentino, was a bit of a “player” in his dating years. He liked the ladies and the ladies like him. But after enough ladies he turned to God and became a priest. The right women (and by right I mean wrong) can do that to you. During Valentino’s church years Caesar made it unlawful for young men of military age to marry. Caesar wanted them to be free from distraction and to have singular focus while doing battle on behalf of the Roman Empire.

But Saint Valentino had other ideas. He defied Caesar and performed multitudes of secret wedding ceremonies for young lovers. Thus Saint Valentine is the patron saint of love… not dating.

That story is 100% true because it was told to me by two separate Italian sources on St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican while I was in Italy last February. I’m not making this up. I have further proof this accounting of Saint Valentino’s life is accurate. I aired his story during a live televised news report beamed via satellite from Italy to the Charlotte viewing area on February 14, 2006. And since it was in a newscast, it has to be true. My logic is holeless (new word #2).

How does all this tie together? No clue.

But I do wish you all a genuine love relationship. And it can happen. It happened to me and I had pretty much decided the good lord wanted me to be a priest. Not literally of course. I cuss too much and I like women. But a priest in the sense that I strongly considered getting a cat.

And then my boss hands me a bunch of video tape resumes from TV reporters who want to work in Charlotte. He says, “We have an opening.” I watch them all and say, “Hire Anna Crowley. She gets it.”

Funny how life works. I picked my wife out of a pile of tapes.

Minding my own business. Doing what’s asked of me. I had no idea. Seriously. Anna was hired, moved here and I thought nothing of it. I was just glad to have another talented reporter on our staff.

Some time later I started thinking, “That girl is alright. She’ll make a great friend.” Yes. I am a smidge on the slow side. Picture a Golden Retriever who can speak and write. That’s me.

Think about it. What if she hadn’t sent a tape? What if she wasn’t the best reporter in that box? What if I had picked the Asian reporter guy my boss liked?

I’d be without the love of my life, my sweet Anna. Truth is she’s the kind of woman ten million men would stand in line for, just to be given a birdhouse for a present. And they’d be grateful. (If that makes no sense to you, I refer you to last weeks “Travel” journal.)

Wow! If my boss hadn’t listened to me I’d be married to an Asian guy right now! What the? That would be totally messed up. Wait. I’m off track again. Where was I?

Um, dating… no… love. Yes! Love.

So here’s to love and Saint Valentine. A man who chose God over dating and love over the law.

And here’s to that goofy, broken road we’re all bumbling down. Keep your chin up. You never know who is around the next bend, or in the next box.

Again, happy Valentine’s Day!

Mike Redding