Last weekend, I was snowed in.

When useful employments ceased, I did something I do not normally do: I watched a Hallmark Christmas movie marathon.

Yes, Hallmark movies are sometimes super cheesy.

Yes, I have never known a man able to stomach an entire Hallmark movie without lots of flipping back-and-forth to the football game.

Yes, I dig the inspirational plot lines: everything always turns out a-okay for generous souls who keep Christmas in their hearts.

At the same time, I dislike the white knight fantasy.

‘Rescue your own darn self!’ I want to say whilst throwing my popcorn and being overly dramatic.

In both of the movies I watched, hardworking single moms meet single guys (both named Nick—St. Nicholas, get it?) who restore them to happiness. One Nick happens to be the actual son of Santa Claus. The other is a New York City businessman who returns to his tiny hometown to help with his father’s financially troubled Santa hat-manufacturing business.

The Son of Santa, as can be expected, is kind, hardworking, gentlemanly and loves kids. Nick the Businessman, on the other hand, is a colossal jerk—who transformed into a more loving, caring person by patient local townspeople.

The course of true love, of course, never runs smooth. Not even (shhh!) on the Hallmark channel.

There are pumpkin-carving fiascos, struggles with Styrofoam peanut machines, a fight with the distributor of a violent video game and the moment of truth, where Son of Santa must reveal his true identity. (Hint: it doesn’t go well.) Love, though, triumphs in the end.

First of all, I’m not much of a winter person. Or a television person.

Watching a lot of television, especially in wintertime, makes me feel groggy and torpid, like Rumplestilskin after 20 macaroons and a gallon of holiday eggnog. I know people who love winter, who pass nature’s dark season of regeneration by becoming more introspective or indulging creative abilities or color-coding their closets or whittling tiny animals from pieces of driftwood. I am not one of these people.

Notwithstanding, I would love to see the Hallmark channel come up with some more creative plot lines to amuse me.  (The forecast for the rest of December does not look good.)

Does anybody agree?

Maybe the Krampus could move into town and fall in love with the neighbor?

It was with glee that I realized Saturday Night Live felt the same way. This clip, from last Saturday, is hilarious! My favorite is “On Dasher, On Danza”:

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Editor: Bryonie Wise

Photo: Flickr