If loving it is wrong, I don’t want to be right

I have an admission to make.

I am an addict . . . I am addicted to Hallmark Christmas movies.

There, I said it.

I don’t get a lot of time to watch television, but every second that becomes available, I’m switching to the Hallmark channels and indulging on the cheesiest of the cheesy holiday movies.

I don’t care who knows.

And if loving it is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

It doesn’t matter if I listen to/watch a Hallmark Christmas movie when it’s already half-way through. I know the plot, I know the theme. And so do you . . . admit it. You love them too.

The mantra is pretty much consistent: Someone is so busy with their hectic life they are missing the true meaning of Christmas.

So on the way to a very important business meeting, their car breaks down, they lose their cell phone and accidentally find themselves stranded in a garland-covered town with Christmas trees on every corner. All the people in those villages have nothing to do but bake gingerbread 24 hours a day and an evil corporation always wants to tear down their old library.

While the person is stranded, a family typically takes them into their home where there’s mistletoe hanging in every doorway, the only available drink is hot cocoa and there’s always an elderly man sitting in a rocking chair who resembles Santa.

Now, the kicker is that there is always a relative who is extremely good looking, single and harboring a desire to take over the family furniture-making business. But alas, there are financial constraints and some sort of long-held depression as a result of a childhood experience. The stranded, over-worked person talks the good looking relative into pursuing their dreams of turning old logs into chairs . . . and the two somehow find themselves in love while directing the all-town Christmas pageant.

But right before the big holiday lighting display and caroling extravaganza, the stranded person’s bosses find out where they are, send a private jet to bring them back to reality, and the stranded person must make a choice.

Do they stay in this little town where reindeer actually graze, the stars twinkle more brightly and their new-found love interest serves coffee at the local diner? Or do they return to their cold, financially-secure lives where everyone is mean and all the clothes are gray?

They always reluctantly take off their jeans and galoshes, change back into their business suits (or don their tiaras) and get on the jet or bus or train. But after the children cry because their beloved week-long Christmas drama coach has left right before the big play, the modelesque love interest decides to chase him or her.

Oh, the wonder of a beautiful person in a horse-drawn sleigh, with the wind blowing in their hair, flying through the wilderness to stop their several-day soul mate from leaving! The temperature is brutally below freezing . . . yet, they are never cold. There are never red faces or runny noses, their make-up is always perfect and they never shiver despite the fact that all they are wearing is a sweater that was knitted by the town’s mayor (who happens to be played by a movie star or country singer from the 1970s).

“Stop! Stop!” they yell to the otherwise stranded person once they are spotted. “Come back to the Christmas pageant with me, in my sleigh, where my wise aunt is waiting with the secret recipe to her egg nog and a circle of carolers have stopped the bulldozer from destroying the lighting display! I have fallen in love with you and even though we will be poor, we will have Christmas 365 days a year!”

There is a brief moment of reflection – typically a flashback scene where the otherwise stranded workaholic fondly remembers all the gift wrapping, snowball fights and marshmallow melting by the fire.

“I love you too!” they yell, before running toward the sleigh. “And I love Christmas!”

The two kiss briefly and then act surprised when applause breaks out from the villagers who have suddenly gathered around them.

Older couples embrace, little kids throw their red and green stocking caps in the air and the attending angel disappears into the light streaming from the Christmas tree in the town’s square.

And for whatever reason, I find myself high with infectious bliss bestowed on me by the producers of the Hallmark Christmas Movie Channel. Suddenly, I want to smell the scent of pine, buy presents and maybe even eat a peppermint candy cane.

My dealer, the Hallmark Channel, has provided us addicts with many new and recurring holiday movies over the years. So much in which to indulge! Among the titles are treasures called: Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses, Merry and Bright, Christmas Scavenger Hunt, Picture a Perfect Christmas, The Mistletoe Secret, Christmas Under the Stars, Write Before Christmas, Christmas at Graceland, Cherished Memories, A Christmas Duet, Double Holiday, The Christmas Club, Check Inn to Christmas, Christmas at the Plaza, Christmas in Rome, Christmas at Dollywood, Christmas in Evergreen, A Merry Christmas Match, A Blue Ridge Mountain Christmas, Holiday for Heroes . . . The list goes on and on.

If there’s a cure for my sickness, my addiction to Hallmark Christmas movies and the resulting symptom of hearing carols in my head . . . well, I’ll decline.

If loving it is wrong, I don’t want to be right.


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