I was in the Rite-Aid Wednesday night (out of light bulbs again — I don’t know why but those “long life” bulbs never last longer than a couple of months for me) and the place was mobbed with men buying Valentine cards and gifts. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to dig out by Friday night, and if I don’t have anything for her, my wife will kill me,” one man told the cashier.
Which reminded me of this Steve Earle song. He wrote it for his then-wife when he was under house arrest and forget to pick up a present when he was allowed out of the house:
