COLUMN: Rice guys cannot afford St. Valentine's passive approach

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by Packy Saunders

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WEDNESDAY BRINGS one of the greatest holiday opportunities of the year, Valentine's Day.

What a glorious holiday. Traditionally we go out with that significant other, share our feelings with a potential special somebody or perhaps just send flowers.

Most folks do not know the source of the joy. There are many myths surrounding the holiday of love, but maybe these can be set straight.

The Feast of Lupercalia was the first festive celebration of love. Young men would draw the names of young females from an urn. Then with the help of Cupid, they would serenade and woo the chosen one. It was a formal version of Thursday night at the Pub.

Looking more closely at the issue's genesis, it is written that Rome once had a great hunter that they elevated to the level of deity. His name was Lupercus. They staged their woman lottery supposedly to honor Lupercus. I am sure he was impressed.

Our friend Lupercus may have only been using an alias. The Greeks called the hero by the name "Pan." Most of us should recognize this name from mythology. Some take the tale even further in calling Lupercus "Baal."

Read the Old Testament of the Bible? Then Baal should be familiar. If you really are a scholar, maybe you know that Baal may have been the Bible's "Nimrod," known as a "mighty hunter." This Lupercus guy sure got around.

This sort of cultural transitivism should make you question his existence. Was Lupercus a true hero and mighty hunter? Or was he just a man behind the curtain, working the machine that was the wizard?

Making our way from the Lupercus mythology, let's take this to a more modern level. "Valentinus" was a common Latinate name. It survives as "Valentino" in Italian. So there must have been some guy named St. Valentine, right?

The patron saint of lovers, St. Valentine sought out to aid lovers. As a Roman priest, Valentine secretly married couples after Emperor Claudius had outlawed marriage. This may seem far-fatched, but there was a period of war in which married men were difficult to recruit. From this difficulty, Claudius had his motivations. And he served them out on the chopping block.

St. Valentine was beheaded for his crimes in the third-century B.C. His status as a Roman priest made him the perfect candidate for Constantine's Crusade for Christ (the original CCC).

I suppose Constantine told his cronies, "Friends, Romans, Cronies ... we need to replace this pagan Lupercus guy with a Christian man." And so Good ol' Valentine was posthumously promoted to saint.

All of the historical past that made St. Valentine's Day is practically moot at the social level of this campus.

Few Rice people are finding a soul mate or kindred companion. Lust seems to drive our random "I was drunk" hook-up social approach.

Sure, romanticism will never die. But if you believe that this is what love really comes from, you probably think that chivalry can get you dates.

What it really comes down to for the guys at Rice (and everywhere) is what you do in the beginning.

Acting like a complete, misogynist jerk is a great opener. Girls flock to guys they can't trust. In fact, the only short-term use for guys they can trust is the f-word, "friend."

It is the trustworthy guy who gets to hear for hours about this jerk that she cannot seem to get over. Girls will deny this about themselves while confirming it to their girlfriends.

As we no longer celebrate Lupercalia, guys just can't draw names out of a hat in an old-world version of spin-the-bottle.

You have to ask a Rice woman out on a date, they are not going to come to you. Upon approach, you'd better be ready. If you have no rap or no game, forget whatever other kindness and charm you have going for you this Valentine's Day.

Rice women have something we Rice men do not -- selectivity. And God knows they use it.

Recall last spring when Thresher columnist Bert Gall wrote a touching column in which he was very tender and appreciative of his girlfriend. I heard more than a few Rice women "ooohing" and "aaahing." But how many girls were beating on Bert's door before he had a girlfriend? Surely he was just as romantic of a guy before. Aren't we all?

In the spirit of applied selectivity, I have a Valentine's Day proposition for the women of Rice University. Instead of complaining about what jerks we are, ask a Rice guy out for Valentine's Day evening. If anything, you should know by now that despite the Rice ratio (that is apparently in your favor), dates are a rare commodity at this school.

Just take the initiative. That guy you have been hoping to get a date with for so long -- his name is in the book. And come to think of it, so is mine.

Packy Saunders is a Backpage editor and a Jones College junior.

This item appeared in the Opinion section of the February 9, 1996 issue.

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