You see them every year around this time, scouring the candy aisle, the florist shop, even the lingerie store. They linger over this or that item — then they move on, only to return and stare, confused and afraid.
Yes, men are selecting Valentine's Day gifts for the women in their lives. And again, they face the question most famously voiced by Freud — what do women want?
As a public service to men everywhere, the News has conducted a random sampling of female opinion on the streets of the North Shore, a survey intended to answer a question somewhat narrower than the one posed by Freud — what do women want for Valentine's Day?
"What do I want?" asks Robyn Alvin, a Vermont native attending Montserrat College of Art in Beverly. "Not material things. But emotional gifts. ... To not just be told that you're loved, but to feel that you're loved."
A quiet evening, just the two of us, might be the perfect present, Alvin concludes.
On a street in Danvers, Sheila Redfield ponders the question with such passion that she attracts the attention of passers-by. "I'm trying to think," she says. "I would want a romantic night out with the man I love."
"Don't forget world peace," jokes a bystander.
The mother of three, Redfield also confesses to a weakness for chocolate. Nor has she ever received a bad Valentine's Day gift. "Pots and pans. Those are the types of things I wouldn't want. Or cheap candy."
Allena Pond of Salem takes the prize for getting the most dubious Valentine's Day gift. "I've gotten some weird gifts," she says. "The worst I've gotten — I got a can opener and a six-pack of beer. But, then again, I've had some nice gifts."
Dinner and a movie are enough to make her happy, Pond says. "A girl movie. ... And not just flowers. Not just candy. But a night alone. With romance afterwards. Definitely romance. It's what perks a woman up."
Her daughter, Serena Staggs of Beverly, is quite satisfied to have a dinner that includes her children. "That's the best gift for a mother to be with her kids." She advises against any gift of clothing. "They always seem to get the wrong size."
Pond nods. "She's been with her boyfriend for 10 years, and he still gets the wrong size."
Taking time from chasing her determined toddler, Henry, Sarah Carlson-Lier of Beverly has a view just the opposite of Staggs. She muses that she doesn't need anything expensive. "My husband and I are going to the movies." She smiles at the thought. "A night out without the baby is a nice treat."
After five years of marriage, Carlson-Lier indicates that the romance remains. She squints, stymied by the question of what she would not want to receive for Valentine's Day. "I haven't gotten a blender yet," she finally decides.
The gift giving can be overcomplicated, says Stacey Tsaltas of Danvers. "When my husband was alive, before we got married he asked my sister what I'd want. And she told him — 'A heart-shaped box of chocolates.'"
On the big day, he showered Tsaltas with gifts. He seemed to think of everything.
"But," she told him, "you didn't get me a box of heart chocolates."
"I didn't believe what your sister told me," he replied, "that all you wanted was a box of heart chocolates."
"I'm not speaking for what other women want," Tsaltas says. "They may want diamonds and jewels." But in all the years that followed, she wistfully recalls, her husband was always careful to give her a box of chocolates on Valentine's Day, and that made her happy.


