FOCUS on Romance by Chris Lackner: Goats: The world’s first matchmakers

What ever happened to sacrificing a goat and then choosing your mate out of a giant urn? The ancient Roman ritual may have been messy, but at least nobody was lonely.

While Valentine’s Day owes its namesake to a martyred priest, its origins are steeped in pagan ritual. Early Romans didn’t need roses, candlelight dinners or Lavalife to attract a special someone. They turned to blood sacrifice and tradition.

Lupercalia was a Roman fertility festival that began on Feb. 15. Annual celebrations were dedicated to Rome’s founding brothers Romulus and Remus, as well as Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture. The festival marked the beginning of spring and a period of renewal.

To kick-start the occasion, Roman priests would gather at a sacred cave and make two animal sacrifices – a dog for cleansing and a goat for fertility. Young men donned loincloths, sliced off strips of goat hide and gently swatted any woman or crop in sight. The goat blood was to increase female fertility and bring a good harvest.

On a side note, never try this ritual at home. Your partner will not be impressed.

The city’s bachelorettes would later place their names in an urn and single men would draw a female to be paired up with for the coming year. In some cases, the match would lead to marriage.

No online dating. No perilous blind dates. No awkward, drunken conversation over a thumping speaker system. All you needed was a cave, a goat and an open mind.

Unfortunately, things are a little more complex these days.

For starters, goats are hard to come by in urban Canada, so modern single folk are forced to fend for themselves. How are the bachelors and bachelorettes of Ottawa coping? Many of them are doing just fine.

In light of Cupid’s busiest day of the year, this week’s Focus section examines the search for love and companionship in Ottawa. Most of us seem to be on an eternal quest for a partner be it for a relationship, marriage or one night of delightful sin.

Valentine’s Day offers us a chance to celebrate the people we hold dear. For those of us without someone to hold, the day offers the equally comforting embrace of cynicism or vodka martinis.

I’m kidding. Not all of us need or want a romantic partner in our lives. But for those of us who do, Ottawa seems to cater to every niche desire.

Our writers explore a number of less than conventional areas of romance and partnership, including a thriving fetish, bondage and sadomasochism scene. One revealing piece explores the city’s swinger community – couples who swap partners as a lifestyle choice.

Most important, our stories demonstrate your search for a partner in Ottawa need not be lonely. Our city features a wide variety of singles-related events, organizations and matchmaking services.

They offer people a fighting chance of finding someone who is right for them in terms of age, religion and sexuality.

Despite my love for the Romans, even I have to admit that this is an improvement on picking a name out of an urn.

In an interview with 59-year-old Ottawa resident Pat, she extolled the benefits of being part of an area singles group.

“I’d certainly like someone to share my life with,” the member of Active Singles Group said. “But the group is also wonderful for friendships and camaraderie.”

Pat’s comments reflect the spirit of the day. Some may see Valentine’s Day as a sappy, commercial holiday designed to bleed couples out of their money, but it underscores some of our most basic needs: human connection and companionship. Deep down, even the most embittered souls will admit that experiencing love is well worth the heartbreak that may follow.

We shouldn’t need a designated day to celebrate our loved ones. And we shouldn’t need an arrow-happy mythical figure to spur us to seek out companionship.

If so inclined, Ottawa is filled with many helping hands to guide you in your quest for lust, companionship or romance 365 days a year.

Enjoy Valentine’s Day, but don’t make it an isolated event. And if you’re sitting in a restaurant and wondering about that disturbance on the street, it’s just me — the guy with the loincloth and goat hide.