"My Funny Valentine" is a seasonal classic. It’s played on countless radio stations on the 14th of every February. Its soupy sentiments are supposed to put even the most curmudgeonly lover (or hoped-for lover) in the mood.

But have you ever listened closely to the lyrics of this classic? And contemplated their real meaning?

"My funny valentine," it begins. "My comic valentine. You make me smile with my heart."

"Comic" valentine? A curious way to address someone you purport to love. Not nasty exactly, but suggesting that you might be snickering about them behind their back—a notion made far more explicit by what follows.

"Your looks are laughable," the song continues. "Unphotographable. Yet you’re my favorite work of art."

Honey, you sure look weird. It would probably break the camera if I tried to take your picture. But you’re nonetheless my favorite work of art because, well, I’m that kind of person. Someone willing to overlook your obvious physical defects. You may kiss me now.

From here things really take a slide. "Is your figure less than Greek? Is your mouth a little weak? When you open it to speak are you smart?" My, my. You’re dumpy or boney. Your features give away the fact that you lack character. And you’re incapable of spouting anything but mush and twaddle.

These slights, however, are supposedly mitigated by what comes next: "But don’t change a hair for me. Not if you care for me.."

This is mitigation? Stick around, it’s seems to be saying, cause bad as you are, I’m as big a loser as you are.

"Stay, little valentine, stay," the song concludes. "Each day is valentines day."

Why stay with this insensitive jerk? And why make every day as insultingly awful as the valentines day’s you’ve just endured?

© Michael Silverstein