Ghosts of Christmas Stories Past 2006: Helper

When I started putting this retrospective together, my goal was to look back at each story and give you a little background or insight as to what was going on when I wrote it. But alas, for the first time, I’m stymied. It’s been a long time, guys, and in truth, I really don’t have the slightest idea what I was thinking about or going through that led me to the composition of this story. It’s a shame, too, I really like this one, and it seems to be one of the ones that my readers connected with the most. Wish I remembered how I got the idea. In the original Long November eBook, I wrote that this story was a way to sort of double down on my notion that Christmas Eve is the best night of the year for a miracle, and I’ve gotta admit, that feels pretty on-brand for me.

Christmas 2006: Helper

Ghosts of Christmas Stories Past 2004: Promise

This story is officially the first story from the world of The Curtain (even though that term wouldn’t come in until several stories later). It links to my novel The Beginner, although to say any more would be to give away either too much about this story or about that book. If you’ve read that book, this story will have more meaning for you. If you haven’t I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Back in the day, ghost stories were a Christmas thing more than Halloween. This was my first attempt at a holiday ghost story. It wouldn’t be the last.

By the way, here’s a little tip for any writers out there: think really hard about your titles. If you type The Pyrite War into Amazon, I’m the first thing to come up. You know what you get if you do a search for The Beginner? Eighty thousand self-help books, that’s what. Learn from my mistakes, kids. 

Christmas 2004: Promise

Ghosts of Christmas Stories Past 2003: JLZX622

I am extremely proud of this story, for which the International Federation of Holiday Weirdness gave me the trophy for “Most Unusual Title Ever Given to a Christmas Story.”  It is an honor I take very seriously, and a legacy I hope to pass down to my son some day. 

This is another story that links to something else I was working on at the time, although unlike the story referenced in “Pencil Sketches,” this one was actually finished. Some of the characters in this story also appear in my young adult novel Lost in Silver. If you’re saying to yourself, “Wait, Blake, I thought I’d read all of your stuff, and I’ve never HEARD of Lost in Silver…” well, I said the story was FINISHED, not PUBLISHED. I serialized that story on the old Evertime Realms website many years ago, but it’s kind of lost on the internet now. It’s odd that I have something completed just sitting on a hard drive that I haven’t done anything with, and every so often I think about dusting it off and putting it on Amazon, but I haven’t pulled the trigger yet. YA has changed SO much in the time since I wrote it that I don’t know that there would be a place for it anymore. But if you’re one of the few people who remember the story and would like to see it again – or if you’re someone who’s NEVER seen it and you’re wondering what it’s all about, drop me a line and let me know. Never say never, right?

By the way, this is the second story to mention “Timberton Parish, Louisiana,” the first being “Clarence Missed.” There is no such place. It’s a fictional place I conjured up for a story and then used for several other stories, then I stopped. If Stephen King can fill up half the state of Maine with fictional locations, dang it, I should get one parish. 

Christmas 2003: JLZ6X22

Ghosts of Christmas Stories Past 2002: Pencil Sketches

This is another story that came about as a result of a bigger story I was working on. I’d kicked around a novel about a pair of best friends, two young men who each desperately needed a brother and found them in each other, one of whom was carrying around a major chip on his shoulder over feeling cheated out of his grandfather’s legacy, but I realized at some point that this wasn’t a story that had an ending. In fact – this being the early 2000s – I thought it would work much better as a webcomic. I never found a partner to work on with it (I cannot draw), but this short story – the origin of Matt and Bixby’s friendship – remains as a reminder to me of what might have been. 

This story also canonically links to two of my novels, The Beginner and Opening Night of the Dead, through the existence of Climax Pictures. Those two books are part of my world of  “The Curtain,” so I suppose this story technically is as well, although none of the supernatural trappings of those books appear here. 

Kids, ask your parents what “Waldenbooks” was. 

Christmas 2002: Pencil Sketches

Ghosts of Christmas Stories Past 2001: Clarence Missed

Like I said, the idea of writing a Christmas short story came from my love of It’s a Wonderful Life, and this is the story that draws on that most directly. I wanted to preface each of these stories with a little tidbit about what inspired it or where it came from, but the truth is it’s been a long time and I honestly don’t remember how I came up with it. I DO know that I dropped in a few links to stories I’d been working on that never quite materialized, although one of them will be turning up again in a few days. In the meantime, I do think this stands by itself. Enjoy and share…

Clarence Missed

Geek Punditry #48: ‘Zat You, Santa Claus?

I think one of the hallmarks of a great character, the ones that have real staying power for generation after generation, is adaptability. Look at classical mythology: how many different iterations have there been of the likes of Odysseus, Heracles, and Jason, or the gods Zeus, Thor, and Ra? Fables and fairy tales bring up the same question – compare all the different versions of Cinderella, Snow White, or Little Red Riding Hood, and you’ll find a panoply of options to choose from. Even more modern characters with a definitive starting point change and evolve – let’s contrast either Benedict Cumberbatch or Robert Downey Jr.’s Sherlock Holmes to that of Basil Rathbone or the original Arthur Conan Doyle stories, and you’ll find what makes each version distinct from all the others. And of course, the role of Batman has been reshaped at least twice since you started reading this paragraph, even though the late Kevin Conroy absolutely nailed it. This malleability is one of the things that gives long life to a character, and I think that it’s not only a positive trait, but in many cases a necessary one. All that said, it does bring me to the question I want to address this week: which one is the real Santa Claus?

Gotta tell ya — it’s NOT this guy.

Santa, St. Nicholas, Kris Kringle, Father Christmas, whatever you call him, I’m talkin’ about the fat guy who comes to your house on Christmas Eve, eats your cookies, and leaves you toys. He is without a doubt one of the most singularly beloved characters in all of storytelling, as the hundreds of books, movies, and other assorted media that have detailed his adventures certainly prove. But unlike many of his Yuletide contemporaries like Rudolph and Frosty, there’s not exactly a single definitive version of the character, there is NOT – as John Payne tried to prove in Miracle on 34th Street – any “one and only Santa Claus.” Oh sure, there are some elements that are common to most modern versions of the character: red suit, home at the North Pole, a contingent of elves to help make toys, flying reindeer. But I think a lot of people would be surprised to learn how relatively recent many of those elements are. For instance, the notion of the reindeer flying wasn’t really codified until Clement Clark Moore’s “A Visit From St. Nicholas” in 1823, which also named them and set the number at eight, but even THAT wasn’t widely accepted as THE version of Santa until the early 20th century. Similarly, the red suit as his primary outfit is often traced to Coca-Cola ads from the 1920s, although there is some dispute about that.

This fella, on the other hand, has more street cred.

With my formative years in the 1980s, I grew up on a steady diet of Christmas specials that each offered their own take on the legend, many of which I enjoy despite the way they contradict each other. In Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town, Rankin and Bass’s (first) attempt at Santa’s life story, we see a baby that’s lost in the woods, adopted by elves, and eventually grows into a great toymaker. It’s a classic special, but several of the elements seem similar to those in L. Frank Baum’s novel The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, in which the baby is found by a fairy instead, but similarly raises him as her own. Baum’s version of Santa works with Nooks and other fantasy creatures rather than elves, and he’s got a complement of ten reindeer to pull his sleigh, but the heart at the core of the character maintains. This version of Santa feels a bit more “high fantasy” than most, perhaps fitting in more with Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, or Baum’s own Oz books than with the character that pals around with Rudolph. (Rankin and Bass would eventually animate a version of the Baum novel in 1985, with Universal releasing a direct-to-video adaptation of their own in 2000.) 

Ten reindeer, and of course, the traditional Christmas mountain lion.

The “foundling” Santa Claus is a popular version of the character, but it’s by no means the only one. David Huddleston showed us another version in 1985, with Santa Claus: The Movie, in which the titular hero is an adult toymaker recruited by elves to carry out their eternal mission of gift-giving. This is one of my favorite versions of the story for several reasons. First and foremost is Huddleston himself. His depiction of Santa Claus is spry and energetic, jolly and compassionate, and it’s still the live-action version of the character that lives in my dreams. Second, I also like the idea of Santa as a normal human who transcends and becomes something greater. Foundling Claus has some of that, but it’s somehow a little less magical to me if he’s taken in by the immortals as a baby as opposed to earning his stripes before he even meets them. And third, the movie is produced by Alexander and Ilya Salkind, who also produced one of my favorite movies of all time, the 1978 version of Superman, and they TOTALLY RIPPED OFF THEIR OWN PLOT STRUCTURE. Just like with Superman, we begin with an origin story that takes up nearly half of the film’s running time, showing the character grow and develop, and not even introducing the film’s primary antagonist until the second half, which is a story almost entirely divorced from the first half origin. I’ve always appreciated the fact that not only did they pull the same trick twice, but that it worked oh so well.

“Ho, ho, hold my beer, we gots work to do!”

Another version of Santa that you see often is the Torcherbearer, the idea that Santa is a title passed down from one generation to another. Sometimes it’s a literal father-son (or father-child) transfer, such as in Arthur Christmas or Noelle. Other times the new Santa is a sort of “chosen one,” as in Ernest Saves Christmas. And sometimes the new Santa gets the job due to a combination of calamity and dumb luck, like Tim Allen in The Santa Clause. (Side note: this is the ONLY time when it is permissible to write “Clause” with an “E” at the end of the word. The title of the movie is not referring to the character himself, but to the legal “clause” in the contract that makes Tim Allen the new Santa CLAUS. The popularity of this series, however, has caused an entire generation to consistently misspell the word, and if they don’t knock it the hell off I’m going to eventually lose it and say something that gets me banned from Facebook.)

You know why the “E” is in red? Because it’s WRONG.

I’ve honestly never been fond of the Torchbearer version of Santa as a trope, even though there are admittedly a lot of good stories told with that concept. Even more so than the “foundling,” it lessens him, makes it just a title rather than an enduring, immortal spirit, and that’s part of the magic of the character. The notion that Santa can retire, be fired, or just be replaced like the guy who makes my sandwich at Subway trivializes the entire concept to me, even if the new Santa doesn’t need to be reminded that I like extra pickles.

Then there’s the historical Santa, the one that at least tries to tie the concept to the real man who inspired the legend, St. Nicholas of Myra. Maybe it’s the Catholic in me, but I absolutely love when this is done well, and nothing has done it better than the Christmas Chronicles, a series of three novels by Jeff Guinn (not related to the two similarly-titled Netflix movies starring Kurt Russell as the kind of Santa that makes your mom want a little something extra in her stocking this year). The first book in this trilogy, The Autobiography of Santa Claus, puts Saint Nick in the driver’s seat to tell us his own life story, beginning as a child from a (relatively, for the time) wealthy family who desires to use his good fortune to help those who are not as fortunate. The book traces his entire life, including deeds both historical and apocryphal that have been attributed to Nicholas, then moving on to the point where he discovers that he appears to be immortal. (Don’t ask him why it happens: this Santa Claus firmly believes that true magic is not a trick that can be revealed, and he neither has nor desires any explanation for his powers.)

The story of Santa Claus straight from the reindeer’s mouth.

The book follows Nicholas through the centuries on a kind of Forrest Gump trip through history, meeting many well-known historical figures and even recruiting several of them into his band of helpers, including the original “King” Arthur, Leonardo Da Vinci, Teddy Roosevelt, and Attila the Hun. In the first follow-up, How Mrs. Claus Saved Christmas, Guinn again ties the legend to history, showing us how Santa’s wife kept Christmas alive during a (real) Protestant attempt to stamp out the holiday in the 1640s. The final book (so far – I keep hoping Guinn writes another) brings the characters to modern times, in which Santa learns of a reality TV show that is purporting to choose the “real” Santa Claus and he decides the only way to prevent a disaster is to enter and win it himself. I really love this series and I read it again every few years. The best part is that each of the novels has 24 chapters, structured so that you can read it to your kids one chapter a night beginning on Dec. 1 and ending on Christmas Eve.

There is, of course, no one “true” version of Santa Claus. I haven’t even brushed on the version in Bill Willingham’s Fables, in which characters from folklore are kept alive by the belief that “mundane” humans have in them (so that should tell you something about how powerful this Santa is). I haven’t talked about Grant Morrison and Dan Mora’s excellent Klaus graphic novels, which bear no relation to the also excellent animated film Klaus that Netflix released a few years ago. I haven’t looked at North from the Guardians of Childhood books (adapted for the screen as Rise of the Guardians). And this is, of course, to say nothing of the countless Santa Claus stories that offer no origin for the character at all, but just have him appear fully-formed as if sprung from the head of Zeus. But like Zeus, or Sherlock Holmes, or Batman, the great thing about Santa Claus is that there’s no requirement that you choose any one version as “THE” Santa Claus. There’s virtue and merit to every version I’ve mentioned today and to thousands that I haven’t gotten around to. The most important thing, I think, is that a depiction of Santa Claus maintains the spirit of the character – that he be a good, decent man of such overwhelming love that he spreads it to all the world’s children. If you can give me that, everything else is negotiable. 

The “real” Santa Claus is whichever one you want him to be.

Man, it’s too bad Kevin Conroy never played him.

Blake M. Petit is a writer, teacher, and dad from Ama, Louisiana. His current writing project is the superhero adventure series Other People’s Heroes: Little Stars, a new episode of which is available every Wednesday on Amazon’s Kindle Vella platform. He just started rereading The Christmas Chronicles again, and dang if they’re not just as good as they were the first time he found them. 

BONUS ANNOUNCEMENT!

In October I introduced a new feature to Geek Punditry, Playing Favorites, in which I give you a topic and ask you for suggestions of categories to share some of my favorite things. For example, the category for Halloween was “Horror Movies,” and suggestions included things like sci-fi/horror movies, comedy/horror hybrids, horror movie performances that I felt deserved Oscar recognition, and lots of other cool choices. It wound up filling up two full columns! (Part OnePart Two)

Well, never let it be said that I don’t know how to milk an idea to death use a good idea when it’s available. With Christmas coming up, I’m announcing the next round of Playing Favorites, in which I’m asking you guys for categories of Christmas content! Movies, books, TV shows, comics – what are the categories I can play favorites with this time? Give me your suggestions in the comments below or on whatever social media you used to find this link!

Ghosts of Christmas Stories Past 2000: Lonely Miracle

As I mentioned yesterday in the introduction to this little project, I got the inspiration to write a Christmas short story as a gift to my friends back in 2000. I was fresh out of college, working at a newspaper, and scribbling away at a story that had grabbed me about a reporter who discovers he has super powers, and thus wants to become a superhero himself. Originally intended to be a short story, when “Capes and Masks” reached 25,000 words and I realized I wasn’t even halfway through, I understood that I was actually working on my first novel. The book was eventually finished and given a slightly catchier title, Other People’s Heroes, and it’s kind of been the hub of my writing ever since. 

As I was working on the book when the idea to do a Christmas story came to me, I wound up incorporating that universe I was building into the story in question, a habit that would become more and more pronounced for me over time. You will find, over the next few weeks of this time capsule project, that a great number of these Christmas stories are linked either to Siegel City, to my other fictional world which I refer to as “The Curtain,” or to various other projects that were in the works at the time and may or may not have ever been completed. (Mostly have not.)

But for now, my friends, please enjoy — and feel free to share — the first story in my annual tradition, the Siegel City tale called…

Lonely Miracle

Coming in December: The Ghosts of Christmas Short Stories Past!

I am a nerd for Christmas.

Ask anybody, I’ve been a huge fan of the entire Christmas season for as long as I can remember. I love the music, I love the movies, I love the TV specials, and lord knows I love the food. I love the stories, too – tales of redemption and hope, ghosts and angels…there’s something that makes any story a little more precious when it’s part of the Christmas season.

Way back in 2000, a year that was before any of the students in my current 12th grade class were even born, I learned an interesting bit of information about my favorite Christmas movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. The tale of George Bailey and Clarence the Angel, the beautiful story of a man who is given the gift of seeing a world where he never existed, did not actually begin life as a movie. The movie was a loose adaptation of the short story “The Greatest Gift,” a story that was written by Philip Van Doren Stern in 1943 and given to friends as a Christmas card after being unable to find a publisher for it. The story was passed around and eventually made its way to Hollywood, where Frank Capra and James Stewart transformed it into one of the most iconic films of the season. The thing that stuck with me, though? The notion of a short story as a Christmas card.

The idea lodged in my brain, inescapable, and it took root. I decided to do something similar that year, writing a short story that included characters from the novel I was working on, a weird little thing about superheroes that was, at the time, called Capes and Masks before I finally settled on the marginally-superior title Other People’s Heroes. The story featured two side characters from that novel and was set on the Christmas immediately before the events of the book. I was pleased with the story, I sent it out, and when I published the revised version of the novel several years later I included the story, “Lonely Miracle,” as a sort of special feature in the back.

The thing is, that first story wouldn’t sit still, and in 2001 I sat down and wrote a second story, this one directly inspired by Capra’s film. In 2002 I did it again. Then again. And here we are, 23 years later, and I have never failed to put a new story into the world every Christmas.

This year, I’ve decided it would be nice to dig back into the archives and once again share all these ghosts of Christmas stories past. Starting tomorrow, I’ll be re-presenting most of those stories to you, every day except Wednesday (because on Wednesdays the only thing you need to worry about reading will be the newest installment of Other People’s Heroes: Little Stars). I’ll once again share every short story with you, free of charge. That will make 20 of the 24 Christmases – the other four Christmases are accounted for with the three short Christmas novels I’ve written. I’ll give you those links now, since two of them are on Amazon.

First was A Long November, from Christmas 2005 (which also happened to be my first year attempting National Novel Writing Month). Duncan Marks is just like you: sick and tired of Christmas getting earlier and earlier every year. And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, Duncan finds himself targeted by a strange pixie intent on rescuing his Christmas spirit – on the DAY AFTER HALLOWEEN. A Long November is available as an eBook collection from Amazon, which also happens to include several other of my earliest Christmas stories, the ones I’ll be sharing here for the next few weeks. 

The second short novel was from 2013, a tale called Making Santa: Advent. Nicholas Grace is one of 200 men abducted by a bizarre alien race called the Yool, aliens who are testing their captives…training them for a very important task: to become the most famous figure in history. One of these men will become the new Santa Claus. Like A Long November, Making Santa: Advent is available as an Amazon eBook. This story, you may notice, has a few sequel hooks…I had thoughts at the time of doing a series with these characters. It hasn’t materialized yet, but never say never.

The third longer work is Santa’s Odyssey, an experiment that began on Christmas 2017 and lasted until Christmas 2018, counting as the story for both of those two Christmases. In this story, as Santa returns to the North Pole on Christmas Eve he is attacked by a coalition of angry holiday icons who feel his holiday has gotten out of control. Over the next year, Santa is forced to see the task of each of the other major holidays. This was a challenging story to write, turning out a chapter every month as the year progressed and covering two Christmases. It’s never been put out for sale, but you can download the PDF of it for free right here.

And with those three stories up front, the stage is set. Come back tomorrow for the first of these Ghosts of Blake’s Christmas Stories past, one every day (except Wednesdays) until we reach Dec. 23, when this year’s all-new story will make its debut! Hope you enjoy this trip through my development as a writer, guys. Merry Christmas! 

And in case you missed any of the stories, they’ll be indexed right here!

Geek Punditry #47: The Gift of Physical

Here we are, my friends, the most chaotic, volatile, and lucrative date on the American calendar: Black Friday. Of course, Black Friday isn’t quite what it was just a few years ago. In the not-too-distant past, it wasn’t unusual to watch footage of mobs at Target trying to murder each other with croquet mallets in the attempt to get a cheap widescreen television set. That was last month in San Francisco, of course, but that sort of behavior USED to be restricted to the day after Thanksgiving. These days, though, with people having less money to spend, prices rising, and online shopping becoming easier and more tempting than ever, it’s becoming far less likely to see someone get a shiv in the kitchen section of Home Goods. We’re still planning to shop, of course, we’re still all trying to find just the right gift for the people we care about, and as far as the geeks in your life are concerned, we’ve learned something important this year. When it comes to sharing your favorite movies, music, books, or games…the truth is, physical media needs to come back.

Because no matter how hard you try, you can’t club somebody over the head with Netflix.

A few days ago Christopher Nolan, discussing the Blu-Ray release of his movie Oppenheimer, encouraged people to purchase the disc “So no evil streaming service can come steal it from you.” The joke, of course, is that over the course of 2023 it has become horribly fashionable for streaming services to quietly (or sometimes not-so-quietly) remove content from their platforms in a cost-saving measure. There are various ways this can theoretically work – by writing it off as a loss on their taxes, by licensing it off to some other service and getting money from them, and so forth, but whatever the reason the end result is the same. It becomes difficult and confusing for fans to find what they want, and in the case of the writers, directors, performers, and other people who actually made the content in question, all their work is reduced to numbers on a spreadsheet, without giving anyone the opportunity to actually experience it in the way intended.

Warner Bros.’ Max service has become the most notorious for this practice, canning numerous films that were close to completion (including a Batgirl movie, a holiday-themed sequel to Scoob!, and most recently the John Cena/Wile E. Coyote legal drama Coyote Vs. Acme), but they are by no means the only culprit. After a few weeks on their streamer, Disney+ pulled the kids’ sci-fi film Crater, later putting it out for sale or rent on digital media, but it’s no longer available as part of the prepaid package that director Kyle Patrick Alvarez’s mom can tell her friends to watch the next time they ask what her son is up to. But perhaps the strangest instance of this phenomenon came from Paramount+, the streaming service that built its audience as the online home of Star Trek, when they made the decision to not only cancel the nearly-finished second season of Star Trek: Prodigy, but to yank season one from the service as well. Since then, the show has been conspicuous by its absence. This summer they even launched a celebration of animated Star Trek to mark the 50th anniversary of Star Trek: The Animated Series, and while they spent a lot of time hyping that original series, Lower Decks, and the animated webseries Very Short Treks, they did the best they could to pretend that Prodigy didn’t exist. 

But come on, who could ever forget this face?

But the fans refused to play along. A strange thing happened when it became public that Prodigy was being taken down from Paramount+. Within a day or two, the Blu-Rays and DVDs for the first half of season one were completely sold out. (The second half had not been released yet.) You couldn’t find a copy in brick and mortar stores, and online retailers like Amazon, Best Buy, and Walmart all cleared out their warehouses before you could blink. It was as if fandom all, simultaneously, realized that media that only exists on a streaming platform can be removed at any time, capriciously, and without warning, and that the only sure way to have access to the content you want is to actually own a physical copy.

What a concept.

I’m not here to decry streaming or to say I’m gonna cancel Netflix. For one thing, that would be REALLY dumb, since they’re the service that wound up saving Prodigy, and I ‘m greatly looking forward to season two. But streaming services are proving themselves to be increasingly problematic for the companies that own them. They’ve become such a huge part of our lives that it’s easy to forget they’re still a relatively new business model, and what we’ve learned this year is that even the big boys like Disney and Warner Bros. haven’t actually figured out how to make money off of them yet. And sure, some of you may be thinking, “Well Disney has enough money, why should I care if Disney+ isn’t turning a profit?” That’s very progressive of you, make sure you put that on a t-shirt. But that doesn’t change the fact that the Walt Disney Global Media Conglomerate and Shadow Government and Pottery Export Business is still, in fact, a business, and if they can’t make money off a project they’re not going to keep making it. 

The “Plus” stands for “Plus all of your money.”

In the early days of broadcast TV, the burden of monetization was put on sponsors. Phillip Morris Cigarettes gave Desilu money to make I Love Lucy in exchange for the show promoting their product, everybody was happy, and lots of people got lung cancer.

Okay, maybe I was wrong — smoking DOES make you look cool.

Then came cable, and the model changed somewhat. While sponsors still existed, cable channels made the bulk of their money by selling their content to a cable provider like Cox or DirecTV, which made ITS money by charging consumers for packages of channels from those various sources. These days media companies are attempting to cut out the middleman with their own streaming services, making the content AND controlling the distribution themselves…only to discover that the middleman actually turned out to be kind of necessary in this particular equation. And since they haven’t yet worked out the new equation, they’re starting to cut corners – raising rates for the service, putting ads on streamers that didn’t have ads in the past, and of course, chopping content that they think they can make more money with some other way.

Physical media protects you from losing content, but it’s also becoming a way to show your support for a project. With streaming numbers being a closely-held secret, it can be almost impossible to tell how successful any series is. Fans were blindsided this week, for instance, when Disney+ announced that they won’t be doing a second season of the beloved Muppets Mayhem. (This has been a BAD year for shows that I loved enough to devote an entire Geek Punditry column to.) It was acclaimed by fans, but there was no physical release for us to attach our support to. I can’t say fit certain that it would have made a difference, but it certainly wouldn’t have hurt, because those numbers DO matter. When Star Trek: Picard wrapped up its third and final season, fans asked showrunner Terry Matalas what they could do to encourage Paramount to support his proposed Star Trek: Legacy spinoff series. His answer was telling: keep steaming Picard, yes, but also buy the Blu-Ray of Season Three so Paramount knows you will support it.

I’m not saying you need to rush out and buy everything that’s made, but if you want to send a message about what shows and movies you enjoy, buying the physical media helps accomplish that, and that will give support to similar projects in the future. Sure, I watched Fuller House on Netflix, but I don’t feel any particular need to get it on disc. But when Stranger Things drops its final season next year, you can bet I’ll be first in line for that complete series boxed set.

Available on twelve discs or 97 VHS tapes.

After Nolan made his comments, Guillermo del Toro added his own two cents to the discussion, saying, “Physical media is almost a Fahrenheit 451 (where people memorized entire books and thus became the book they loved) level of responsibility.” In other words, you’re not just clinging to that DVD set of the complete series of Mama’s Family for kicks, it is your civic duty. These things aren’t being preserved anymore, not by the people who actually own and control the IP, so it’s becoming incumbent upon the fans to do it themselves. This is especially true in a world where retailers like Best Buy have announced that they’re abandoning physical media sales entirely. Back before I had a kid and there was such a thing as free time, I could spent hours wandering around the Best Buy DVD section. Over the years I got sadder every time I stepped into the store, watching my favorite section get smaller and smaller. As of now, I honestly don’t remember the last time I walked into a Best Buy store, and that’s on them.

Movies and TV are not, of course, the only kinds of content affected by streaming. Music was hit a long time ago, and eBooks have been around for quite some time. In both of those arenas, though, something odd has happened. The importance of the physical media has grown in the digital age. Despite the obvious convenience of eBooks, a survey showed that in 2022 print books outsold them nearly four-to-one. And in the area of music, while lots of people use Spotify or Amazon Music to get their pop fix, die-hard fans have actually gone back in time and resurrected the vinyl album as their physical format of choice. Spotify is fine for a casual listener, but the hardcore fans want something they can see, touch, hold, display, and screech in terror when their kids hit the arm on the record player and scratch it up. I think, in the next few years, movie and TV fans will experience a similar renaissance. Casual fans will settle for Netflix and Hulu, but the collectors (a faction that will increase in both number and intensity) will thirst for that physical release with pristine picture and sound and loaded with extra features. 

So be a Chris Nolan, guys. Get your Barbenheimer fix on a disc. And try not to beat anybody up in the electronics aisle. 

Blake M. Petit is a writer, teacher, and dad from Ama, Louisiana. His current writing project is the superhero adventure series Other People’s Heroes: Little Stars, a new episode of which is available every Wednesday on Amazon’s Kindle Vella platform. He hopes you all have a great Christmas season, and he promises loads of holiday content right here, because that’s the kind of nerd he is.

BONUS ANNOUNCEMENT!

In October I introduced a new feature to Geek Punditry, Playing Favorites, in which I give you a topic and ask you for suggestions of categories to share some of my favorite things. For example, the category for Halloween was “Horror Movies,” and suggestions included things like sci-fi/horror movies, comedy/horror hybrids, horror movie performances that I felt deserved Oscar recognition, and lots of other cool choices. It wound up filling up two full columns! (Part One, Part Two)

Well, never let it be said that I don’t know how to milk an idea to death use a good idea when it’s available. With Christmas coming up, I’m announcing the next round of Playing Favorites, in which I’m asking you guys for categories of Christmas content! Movies, books, TV shows, comics – what are the categories I can play favorites with this time? Give me your suggestions in the comments below or on whatever social media you used to find this link!

Geek Punditry #46: We Need Something to be Thankful For

In January, I decided to do a soft relaunch of this blog, challenging myself to find something I was happy about in pop culture to write about once a week. And although I’ve been pretty successful with that goal so far, it hasn’t always been easy. This week, for example. This week’s post is scheduled for Nov. 17, the last Friday before Thanksgiving, and in a situation like that my normal inclination is to write something about the culture of the holiday, an exploration of some of the classic movies or specials that I always associate with the season, that I revisit every year, and that helps enrich and makes the holidays more meaningful for me. There’s only one problem. In that November, there isn’t that much to be thankful for.

I mean, it’s not even deep-fat fried.

Christmas is easy – there are thousands of Christmas-themed films, TV shows, books, and comics I can turn to, and between Hallmark and the Lifetime Channel they’ve turned out 17 more since we began reading this sentence. Halloween, similarly, isn’t difficult. There are a lot of Halloween-specific movies, and really, anything on the creepy spectrum can feel Halloween-appropriate, even if it’s not set around Samhain. Thanksgiving, though? That’s tougher. 

There are a few Thanksgiving movies, but to date there’s really only been one GREAT Thanksgiving movie, and that’s the 1987 classic Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. If you’ve never seen it, I recommend you check it out before next week: Steve Martin plays an executive trying to get home from a business trip in time for Thanksgiving, and absolutely everything goes wrong. But he’s not alone: fate seems to have linked his travel mishaps with a buffoonish shower curtain ring salesman (really) played by the late, great John Candy. Both of these comedians are at the top of their game in this movie – Steve Martin plays the straight man for most of the film, save for one memorable freak-out scene at a rental car counter, and Candy manages to pull the viewer on a roller coaster ride that makes his character at turns goofy, charming, unbearable, sympathetic, and even tragic. My wife Erin contends (and I do not disagree) that if Candy hadn’t passed away at such a young age, he would have had a late-career dramatic renaissance like John Goodman or Bryan Cranston. And while I wouldn’t change anything about the Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul universe, there’s an alternate reality out there where Candy lived long enough to play Saul Goodman, and I bet that’s really interesting. At any rate, this scene shows hints of that dramatic master that, sadly, will never be. There are several must-see movies every Christmas and Halloween for me, but out of all the Thanksgiving movies that exist, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is the only one I go out of my way to watch every year. 

“Seriously, shower curtain rings?”

The first runner up would probably be Fun in Balloon Land, a horrific fever dream of a film where a child wanders through a fairy land made up of hideous balloon people at the behest of a creepy narrator, intercut with scenes of the world’s most boring Thanksgiving parade. This film is truly an abomination, but the good people of RiffTrax have put out a commentary track that is a favorite of mine.

But that’s it? Only two really memorable movies? One and a half, really – Balloon Land isn’t even an hour long. Thanksgiving is one of my favorite days of the year. I feel like it deserves more. 

(This is the point where someone in the comments will point out Eli Roth’s new holiday slasher flick Thanksgiving, now playing. But I haven’t seen it yet, and even if I had, I feel like a minimum of five years needs to pass before it’s fair to designate a movie as a potential “classic.” Get back to me in 2028.)

So there aren’t enough Thanksgiving movies, that’s clear. But what about holiday specials? Once again, there are some to choose from, but not as many as the other two third quarter holidays. There’s Bugs Bunny’s Thanksgiving Diet, one of the late 70s/early 80s compilation Looney Tunes specials that wraps a new framing sequence around clips from the classic cartoons. BC’s The First Thanksgiving is…weird, although thematically it at least makes a little more sense than the Christmas special. Alvin and the Chipmunks: A Chipmunk Celebration? This is baffling, as it is CLEARLY a Thanksgiving special, but they NEVER EVEN SAY THE WORD “THANKSGIVING.” They dance around it, referring to the “holiday,” which is utterly bizarre to me. Thanksgiving doesn’t even have the religious connotations that make some modern specials afraid to mention Christmas, and what’s more, this came out in 1994. Does David Seville just despise the concept of “thanks”?

“Let’s get ready for Simon’s hate crime!”

Nah, just like Christmas and Halloween, the top two specials belong to our friends from the newspaper pages: A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving and Garfield’s Thanksgiving. The former features the legendary sequence in which Charlie Brown serves a highly-ungrateful Peppermint Patty a Thanksgiving dinner of popcorn, toast, pretzels, and jellybeans. It’s a classic bit, and it really makes me wonder why Kellogg’s, who released a Great Pumpkin-themed cereal for Halloween this year, didn’t follow suit with a cereal that looks like popcorn and jellybeans.

Put that in a bowl.

As for Garfield, this special is second only to his legendary Halloween adventure, showing Jon finally get a date with Liz the Vet, who bizarrely agrees to a first date of having Thanksgiving dinner with him. Jon being Jon, though, he totally fouls up the dinner, and winds up having to call Grandma Arbuckle to save the day. The special is great, with some of the surreal humor that made Garfield back in the day so much fun. Plus, you know how sometimes they manage to make cartoon food look so good that you crave it in real life? If I could bring one cartoon character into the real world, I’d have Grandma Arbuckle show up to make dinner. 

I’m getting hungry just looking at this.

If there’s one area where Thanksgiving does have a little bit of traction in pop culture, it’s in the world of the television comedy. For decades, the sitcom has used Thanksgiving as a backdrop for some classic episodes, and there are few reasons for this. First of all, with the traditional television season running from September to May, shows (especially live-action ones) would usually keep the series more or less in real time. In other words, an episode that first aired in September was usually set during September, a show that aired in February was usually set in February, and so forth. That made it easy – and even logical – to use holidays to mark the passage of time. In this streaming era, though, that concept may be endangered – when Netflix drops an entire season of a comedy in mid-July, it makes little sense to have a holiday episode. (This was even lampshaded in the first season of their Mystery Science Theater 3000 reboot, where they had a Christmas episode, but the characters quipped that people binging the series wouldn’t be watching it anywhere near Christmas.) 

The other reason is that a large number of sitcoms, historically speaking, have been about some type of family: either a traditional nuclear family, a nontraditional family, or about the “found family” that we sometimes create with a group of friends or closely-knit co-workers. As Thanksgiving is arguably the holiday most associated with family as a concept, it only makes sense to tell stories about those families at Thanksgiving. 

Although many sitcoms have had Thanksgiving episodes, there are two that elevated it to an artform: Friends and Bob’s Burgers. The gang at Central Perk made up what is possibly the most recognizable example of the “found family” sitcom in history, and although every one of the main six characters had at least one other biological family member they could have spent the day with, after the first season (where their respective plans all fell apart and they instead spent the holiday together), they rarely made a comment about spending Thanksgiving with anybody but each other. This resulted in some legendary episodes, including “The One With the Football” (in which a touch football game goes wildly out of hand), and “The One With All the Thanksgivings,” (where they reminisce about Thanksgivings past and, quite memorably, Chandler first tells Monica that he loves her while she has a turkey on her head). 

True love.

Bob’s Burgers, meanwhile, is a show about a family that owns a burger joint, with the titular Bob being a chef with dreams of grandeur, and who sees cooking Thanksgiving dinner as a point of personal pride and a constant challenge to outdo himself. Being an animated series, the shows often get far wilder than you would often see in live action, such as the Thanksgiving where a stampede of turkeys trapped the kids in an amusement park ride, the one where Bob has to drag his wife’s injured sister to Thanksgiving dinner in a blizzard, or the time a school Thanksgiving pageant turns into a horrific and hilarious gorefest. At the core, though, this is a show about a family that sincerely and deeply loves each other, and the Thanksgiving episodes are often some of the finest reflections of that. 

Also true love.

Both of these shows would make for fine Thanksgiving marathons. If only Max and Hulu (the streaming services that have them) would wise up and include a button that allows you to watch all the Thanksgiving episodes in order. We know the technology exists, people. Warner Bros., Disney? Are you listening? I’m putting you on notice: I want a “Play Thanksgiving” button come November 2024.

And of course, no discussion of Thanksgiving episodes would be complete without what is perhaps the most legendary one of them all: WKRP in Cincinnati’s “Turkeys Away.” In this episode, the manager of the titular radio station decides to stage a Thanksgiving publicity stunt by escalating a turkey giveaway to preposterous levels. This is the first episode anybody thinks of when they think of WKRP, and even people who’ve never watched the series may still be familiar with the episode’s final line, a killer punchline that has resonated in the annals of sitcom history, but which I will not spoil here for anybody who hasn’t watched the episode. It’s a classic piece of television, but it also has one perplexing footnote. The original air date for this piece of Thanksgiving history? October 30, 1978 – the day before Halloween.

“This is the best we could have hoped for.”

Still, even with these examples I have provided, it should be clear that Thanksgiving has gotten the short end of the stick when it comes to classic pieces of entertainment. I can binge Halloween specials and horror movies all October long. And once Santa comes down Main Street in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, there are more than enough Christmas movies, specials, and TV shows to keep me pleasantly stuffed until Twelfth Night in January. But even with a relatively short 22 days between Halloween and Thanksgiving, like we have this year, there just isn’t enough content to fill it all up. So to all the people out there who make movies and TV shows, I implore you: give Thanksgiving a chance. With such relatively little competition, it really wouldn’t be that hard to make the next definitive piece of Thanksgiving culture. 

I’m putting you on the same timeline as the Hulu and Max people. You got one year, folks, or I may just have to do it myself.

Blake M. Petit is a writer, teacher, and dad from Ama, Louisiana. His current writing project is the superhero adventure series Other People’s Heroes: Little Stars, a new episode of which is available every Wednesday on Amazon’s Kindle Vella platform. He realizes that he neglected to mention one specific Lifetime Thanksgiving movie, the 2015 film Jim Henson’s Turkey Hollow, produced by the Jim Henson Company and based on an idea from the legendary Jim Henson before his untimely death. It was a’ight.