My beautiful wife Karen says, “My whole life is a romance. But not everybody has that. You used to like Valentine’s Day until I helped you see all the hype."

She has a point. Guys may not like being told to go buy flowers and pucker up on command, but on a day like today, those poor Romeos out there who are in the doghouse have to admit the fact that they are schmucks and own up to their romantic incompetence with a stage-managed and probably insincere effort to scrounge together a suitable effort for their love-bird.

For other guys, Valentines Day is a help. You know you need to get your act together. Romantic thoughts don’t just pop into your head. Instead, you think thoughts like, “I need to change the oil in my car.”

What I resist is the notion of insincere love – throw in a guilt-inducing commercial or two and you’ve got something too choreographed for my tastes. I remember when Karen and I were dating. Man, every spare moment I wanted to be with her. We went on walks all the time. We wrote each other stupid little notes. Nothing stage-managed about that.

So tonight as the swarms of suddenly love-struck couples descend on their favorite bistros and make eyes at one another over the candlelight, Karen and I will applaud and wait for our turn, a week later at a moment of our choosing. I’ve already got the reservations for a private showing of the Winslow Homer exhibit at the High Museum followed by dinner at a nice Italian restaurant. I’m betting that our celebration of life and love together will feel smoother when we’re not fighting the crowds.

If that sounds like a better way to live, then guys, this is the one investment you make with guaranteed payback. Date your wife. Take her out weekly. Write her stupid notes again. And if you should choose to do so on Feb. 14, make sure you mean it.