Chanukah Isn't Christmas (But You Knew That Already)

Somewhere in the backlog of these posts, I have mentioned how much I really like Hallmark and Lifetime Christmas movies.

There is absolutely no logical reason for this weird-assed fandom. These movies are really terrible. Trust me. Cheaply made, poorly acted, and poorly produced stories that stretch the limits of credulity of even the most devoted of Christmas movie fans, these formulaic films should be an affront to every single tenet of entertainment value that I hold dear, and yet, I am captivated and entranced when the first showings hit the airwaves in November. I watch them a lot. All of them. Often. It is a wee bit disturbing.

I will save you the trouble of subjecting yourselves to sitting through a painful two hours of these Harlequin Romances of the season with what I like to call Dawn's Quick Synopsis of Every Single Hallmark/Lifetime Christmas Movie Ever Made.

Beginning-first half hour. Our heroine (because it's always a woman) finds herself in some sort of quandary that involves the upcoming holiday. It could be work-related, (because these are modern millenial women) family issues, travel problems, dinner plans, or a nostalgic pining for home. There is always a cute best friend who is unbelievably supportive, a child (these can include our ingenue's own offspring, a niece, nephew, or street urchin, or the son or daughter of the man she is about to meet) who will act as a matchmaker, and a jackass of a boyfriend. Our heroine will travel in this first half-hour to a quaint town, where she will be mesmerized by the locals, love the indelible spirit of Christmas which is everywhere, and where she will meet some unbelievably gorgeous and local vet, soldier, doctor, handyman, businessman, carpenter, who may or may not have an unbelievably gorgeous kid hanging around, dependent solely on if the child of the movie is introduced earlier as hers.

Half-hour-first hour. Our leading lady is continually thrown into ridiculous situations and inane coincidences with the hunky local. She keeps reminding him that she has an asshole of a boyfriend back home but that doesn't seem to deter the LL Bean model who is trudging through the fake snow to make Christmas cookies and sing carols with her. The kid is always there for ambience because what kind of Christmas movie doesn't have kids believing in the magic of Christmas and hoping beyond hope that Daddy will find the woman of his dreams who can ski down the mountain beside him in next year's catalogue.

First hour-hour and a half. The problem that was besetting our leading lady seems to be easily solvable and she discovers how much she loves the quaint little village where everybody is always Santa and Christmas is celebrated 24/7/365. But she realizes that she has a boyfriend and exactly at the ninety-minute mark, (it is really creepy how I can set my watch by this) she apologizes to the Christmas fling and heads home to her miserable Brooks Brothers clone. Sometimes, Mr. Wall Street makes the trek to Christmasville to interrupt what might be a chaste first kiss between leading lady and backwoods hunk, but there is always a fly in the ointment.

90 minutes-End. Asshole is dispatched, magic is reinstated, a quick kiss, a child's dream comes true, and Christmas in Hooterville is forever preserved.

So, why do I like these shitty excuses for entertainment?

I'm not entirely certain but it has something to do with the fact that they are total escapism. There is nothing political, controversial, nor even a hint of contention in these relationships. I like the familiarity of the themes and I like the quiet certainty of the endings.

But this year...Hallmark/Lifetime are doing something that I am sincerely wary of. They are introducing "Chanukah"-themed movies into their rotations. Oy! Here is the TV guide blurb for tonight's offering.

Mistletoe and Menorahs

Ambitious toy company executive Christy (did I mention that they always have holiday-themed names?) has an opportunity to land a career-making new account if she can learn basically everything there is to know about Chanukah and very quickly. Luckily, Jonathan, a friend of one of Christy's co-workers, has all the knowledge she needs, (read that: HE'S A JEW!!) plus he desperately needs someone who can turn his stale bachelor pad into an authentic Christmas wonderland, to score points with his girlfriend's dad.

In other words, this Chanukah movie is actually a Christmas movie wrapped up in gold-foiled gelt.

It isn't a secret that I loathe the false equivalency of anything comparing Christmas to Chanukah. Chanukah, merely by virtue of its seasonal placement on the calendar, is often thought of as the Jewish Christmas. Of course, that idea is really stupid and demeans the celebrations and observances of both holidays but if you are out and about anywhere in North America right now, you might think that Jews are celebrating Christmas in blue and white. There are ugly Chanukah-themed sweaters; gingerbread houses with Magen David on the door; Elf on a Shelf's stereotyped Jewish cousin, Mensch on a Bench; and the always dreadful Chanukah bushes. In response to this "Chrismification" of Chanukah, I wonder how our non-Chanukah observing cousins might react to a potato latke yule log or a deep-fried, jelly-filled nativity scene.

I understand the knee-jerk reaction to act in the name of inclusivity for all of us who are non-participants in the baby Jesus season but here's the thing: I have never once missed celebrating Christmas because I have never once celebrated Christmas. I don't feel neglected and I don't feel as though I am missing out. I find the season pretty and joyous and for those who are observant, it is a time for family and friends. In my younger days, I sang in Christmas choirs and I have been carolling. I have been invited to family tree-decorating parties and I have baked Christmas cookies with friends for their celebrations and have loved participating, but it is absolutely understood that I am a guest. I am not there to intermingle my holiday observances with theirs. I have even attended Christmas Eve mass so that I might keep a friend company. It was a beautiful experience but it wasn't my celebration. I have never once looked at Christmas and thought of it as a secular observance. It is religiously significant but not for me and therefore I don't do the stringing of lights or a tree because it simply isn't my holiday.

Chanukah is different than Christmas. It is a minor holiday that celebrates freedom and independence and is frankly a wee bit uncomfortable for me due to the fundamentalism the Maccabees represent in my otherwise pluralistic existence. We eat greasy, fried foods and we fill our homes with light at what is, for us in North America, the darkest time of the year. Gifts are NOT a requirement although many families choose otherwise. I understand that some families, due to the intertwining of faiths, have found ways to co-mingle the holidays. As somebody who has never had to deal with such dilemmas, I would never suggest that this is inappropriate, only that I would like to see the holidays stand on their own merits. We Jews don't need to adopt Christmas traditions any more than Christmas celebrators need Chanukah in order to feel as though they have satisfied their need for seasonal inclusivity. So, I would suggest avoiding the ugly blue sweaters laden with sparkling menorahs or the white tinsel bushes heavy with blue gelt ornaments. Find Chanukah traditions that aren't dependent on Christmas-themes and embrace those instead.

I will probably take a pass on tonight's Lifetime Chanukah-themed Christmas movie mostly because I think it might cause me some indigestion. I can handle Christmas as an outsider. It's really ok with me. Just don't pretend that Chanukah is its equivalent.

Care Enough

In a really easy distractive effort to avoid any kind of brick and mortar shopping, I spent part of this Thanksgiving weekend here at the Southern Home watching several of those cheesy and incredibly formulaic Christmas movies on the Hallmark Channel.

The Husband hates these time-wasters with a passion so red-hot that it burns through the chair he is sitting in. I, on the other hand, find the mental tapioca they provide so extremely soothing and calming. There is something serene about knowing the plot stylings so well in advance of viewing that I can almost predict down to the minute when the protagonist will realize all that has gone wrong in her life and take up with the standardized hunk of the day in order to give her life purpose and completion. The fake snow and tinsel merely add to the appeal.

But if truth be told, I find myself drawn to these films and the Hallmark Channel specifically because of the commercials that Hallmark runs at this time of year. They aren't merely thirty-second spots to hawk greeting cards, rather they are several minute stories or essays about deep and personal connections. There is the one about the former high school basketball player, now fully grown with a family of her own, who shows up to say goodbye to a beloved coach on the occasion of his retirement; or the one with the two sisters trying to downsize their childhood home to prepare their aging parents for a move; or my personal favourite about the new neighbours who try all year to connect with the curmudgeon next door, only to discover the source of his pain when he finally lets them in at Christmas.

Hallmark has discovered a formula for their advertising that is intensely personal and accomplishes what a great commercial should do. These spots force you to remember the company and, more importantly, why you should purchase from them.

In watching my Christmas movies on Sunday, I noticed something new from Hallmark this year. They have altered their tagline. For years, Hallmark's slogan was "When you care enough to send the very best." They have now shortened it to simply read "Care enough".

It's amazing how much power I find contained in this simple message. A large company is imploring us to just care. They aren't interested in your politics or your religious affiliation. They don't care how busy you are or where you live. They are sending out this simple moral lesson to old and young, rich or poor, people of all races, creeds, and colours. Care enough.

Maybe, for just a bit, we can stop what we are doing and follow through on this mantra.

Care enough.

Consider it when you are in a hurry and thinking it might be a great idea to run that red light or make that illegal turn or lane change.

Care enough.

Ponder it when you interrupt the busy salesperson who is already serving a customer.

Care enough.

Think twice before responding angrily to the online troll who is trying to bait you.

Care enough.

Remember it when passing by the person out in the cold who could use a meal and a pair of mittens.

Care enough.

Believe in it when you see your neighbour struggling to clear his walk or carry in her garbage can or groceries.

Care enough.

Surmise it when you become short of temper with the new girl at your favourite coffee place.

Care enough.

To visit someone who can't visit you.

Care enough.

To connect. Face to face. Voice to voice. In person.

Care enough.

To listen.

Our world is filled with problems. I can't pretend to have the answers to any of them but I do believe that if we followed Hallmark's lead and cared enough with small acts of kindness we could make a pretty good start.

I'm buying Hallmark cards this year for my holiday giving. They have earned my patronage.