THREE VALENTINES February 13, 2026

Tomorrow being Valentine’s Day, I want to launch three Cupid’s arrows. I’ll work backwards.

My first valentine goes to America. Not the America of MAGA, Christian (white) nationalists and antisemites. People like them have been here since Colonial Days, but I won’t sell this country short. We are a nation of immigrants who, going back centuries or just years, built and maintain this country.

In 1906, the Perlsteins, including my 2/12-year-old father, arrived in New York from Warsaw, Poland—doubtless a “shithole” country according to our current president. My mother’s family (she was born in New York) also arrived in America at the turn of the century. Like millions of Jews fleeing the Russian Empire, they faced numerous obstacles, including religious and language differences. Still, they established solid American lives for themselves and their descendants. 

Open borders and unrestricted immigration are no longer appropriate. The frontier closed 130 years ago. The need for manual labor has been greatly reduced with today’s economy focused on tech, finance, hospitality and health care. Who knows where A.I. will lead? But farming and meat processing, among other industries, still require the strong backs and hands immigrants provide.

Let common sense and compassion displace hatred. 

My second valentine goes to San Francisco. Carolyn and I arrived in January 1974. We drove a U-Haul truck and towed our car from San Antonio where we met while I was in the Army.

San Francisco in the ’70s was weird. The Hippie movement had dissipated segueing to a subculture of rampant drug abuse and violent crime. Yet the City was the end of the rainbow, offering a pot of gold for those seeking adventure, culture and natural beauty.

Our first apartment stood at Fulton Street and 31st Avenue in the Richmond District. Nosing up against our living room window, we could glimpse the thick growth of eucalyptus trees in Golden Gate Park.

A year later, we rented a flat on 20th Avenue half a block from the park. Our three children were born there. In 1983, we bought our house on 15th Avenue. We’re a block from the Presidio National Park. We can walk to the Golden Gate Bridge, Baker Beach, Ocean Beach and, yes, Golden Gate Park.

Our walkable neighborhood is filled with restaurants, cafes and shops. Union Square, downtown and the Ferry Building are a short drive or quick bus ride away.

My final—but most treasured—valentine goes to the woman who has shared my life through 56 years of marriage. A spark went off when Carolyn and I met. It set off a blaze. The fire stills burns. 

We are lovers, friends, partners. Like any couple, we’ve had our ups and downs. The ups carry far more weight. Our lives are quiet but fulfilling. Retired from storytelling, Carolyn pursues her acting career. I’m working on another novel. We enjoy streaming great TV shows and movies, seeing Broadway road shows, dining out and having our kids over. Last September, we visited Iceland. 

Tomorrow—and throughout the week, month and year—let’s spread a little love. May Valentine’s Day inspire us to make room in our hearts not only for those close to us but for those who are distant. It’s worth repeating: We’re all different just the same.

To understand the background of today’s far-right, authoritarian descent, read my new novel, RIDE THE TYGER. Order from Amazon, barnesandnoble.com, iuniverse.com, or your favorite bookstore.