The edge , photo by Marie Gloredel.
I have never believed in the polls, they seem very representative of the bulk of public opinion. Not to mention they are often very biased, because in most cases have been designed to find a particular result. Of course as in everything there are exceptions and not all surveys are biased or deceitful. Anyway. The thing is, as the saying of what you can not even see in your house you have to have ... at least not like the polls ... that survey. And that, as you may have guessed, I am. Noon on a sunny Sunday, even with the winter sun to heat burns more mercilessly, I was walking down a street south of Mexico City .... walked slowly but something distracted, busy with my rambling thoughts, when suddenly a stop to my side and after a good afternoon he said
- May I ask you a couple of questions? Please. Do not steal or five minutes. "
In anxious and somewhat tired expression (gave me the impression that bystanders had not deigned to give one or not), the girl aunaba a face so sunny that I was almost impossible to refuse, and before thinking about a decent excuse, I was listening to your first question:
- Do you remember when was the first time you fell in love?
So, how someone could ask such a thing on a Sunday at noon, under a blazing sun and against balloon salesman (of course, mostly in the form of diamonds and hearts rojisos)? At that moment I regretted my kindness citizen and wanted to flee far away ... but it was too late. The worst thing was that ... yeah I remembered. Was clear as yesterday, sunny and azulísimo sky, I took a trip to the past and saw very last-round in front of my eyes curies a child's face and straight dark hair, dressed as polar high neck ocean blue plumbago or sitting on the bench up front and always turning back (did not seem to be very happy to be the first in line and be so close to Miss ). Both had five cursábamos years and second year of kindergarten. I remember it perfectly, not just in the classroom, also the school yard at recess or on the picture where we're the group (small, really) with Miss Jenny in the middle. Many years later when I was in high school and first saw The four hits, a scene in the classroom where Antoine Doinel appears sitting on a bench and looks that way as yours to the camera, I was reminded of the small Piarist of my love for children. It would be a sweater, would not know why, but the endearing character of François Truffaut film he brought to mind. But since then again never had to think of it ... until yesterday. Who would have thought ... a street survey so I would remember something hidden in the tricky ins and outs of my memory.
The second question was the most obvious of all obvious:
And how do you celebrate Valentine's Day?
And my answer, another truism:
"I do not celebrate Valentine's Day.
The truth is that with or without surveys occasion, the city and merchants (as in department stores, flea markets and street stalls) insist remind us that we celebrate love and friendship it is a day of Valentine. With conflicting results. And before them an effect, perhaps the only one who did not seek, is an opposite and nothing photogenic, less marketable, rub in the face of not a few men and women of their loneliness, the loneliness that lies in society in times of boom life virtual. Times in which the fleeting passions, seductions unlikely, mistakes and disappointments assign a single-minded pursuit of love.
****** "I do not care what the faux pas that makes you fall on my body" Marguerite Yourcenar 
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