Televised Days of Christmas: Christmas Is Where the Heart Is

[Is there a better way to celebrate the manger-birth of a superpowered messiah-baby than watching television? Hell no! Join Rendar Frankenstein as he navigates Spaceship OL through the Televised Days of Christmas!]

It wasn’t so long ago that nerds were persecuted.

Comic books were reading material for basement-dwelling losers, not source material for Hollywood blockbusters. Television’s scientific community consisted of children’s entertainers like Mr. Wizard and Bill Nye, not prime-time warriors like Leonard and Sheldon. Glasses were for the vision impaired, not the svelte-as-fuck.

Needless to say, these were dark days for all nerds.

But there is something to be said for those who can survive in the face of relentless persecution. Despite being spat upon, these individuals have the spiritual fortitude to take a stand, championing causes that’re unpopular but virtuous. They resist the temptation to cave into the herd mentality, and sometimes they even manage to help others in the process.

Family Matters‘ Steve Urkel is one such hero.

And perhaps the most festive of his heroic deeds can be found in Christmas Is Where the Heart Is.

The 1993 Christmas episode of Family Matters starts with Carl experiencing a crisis of holiday faith. Earlier in the day, Carl gave money to a sob-story spoutin’ conman who ended up spending the funds on cheap wine and hookers. Consequently, Carl feels like he’s too much of a bleeding heart, and that he needs to toughen up before he’s chewed up. It’s Christmas Eve for god’s sake, and poor Carl is depressed to think that the money he wanted to help a needy family ended up supplying a crumb-bum with a booze’n’pussy combo-pack.

Which is a great purchase. But not when it comes from charity-cash.

Unfortunately, things only get worse for Chicago’s finest police officer. While admiring Steve Urkel’s gift-wrapping prowess, Carl mishandles a package and ends up smashing the present he bought for his wife. With Christmas only hours away, Urkel springs into action, encouraging Carl to join him for some last-minute shopping. The duo runs to the subway, eager to get into the city and finish their gift-gathering.

On the way back from their voyage, Carl and Urkel are given the great misfortune of having boarded a train that loses power! Despite Carl’s pleading otherwise, Urkel does his best to inspire cheer amongst the passengers. At first, the efforts are fruitless. After all, this is a Christmas episode, which means that every person on the train is wholly devoid of holiday heart.

There’s the miscreant-Santa who yells at Steve while pilfering liquid-smiles from his flask. Further down the train is the old lady who seems pleasant enough until she suggests Steve “go suck an egg.” Even further down, there’s the dude who threatens sodomy-via-Christmas tree. No joke.

It’s a tough crowd.

And yet, Steve doesn’t give up on these people. Maybe it’s because he’s a nerd, and as such he’s been shit upon his entire life. Perhaps we can chalk it up to the fact that he sees the best in people, no matter how callused they appear. Mayhaps it turns out that the Ghost of Christmas Present is a black kid from Chicago who wears suspenders and Coke-bottle glasses.

No matter the reason, Urkel is able to reason with the passengers, giving each a chance to share their holiday hopes and dreams. While there is certainly a superabundance of stress and agitation and depression swimming about the train, it’s revealed to be nothing more than a symptom. The sickness? The collective concern that Christmas will not be spent in the fellowship of friends and loved ones.

Awh.

Urkel’s mental mediation allows for the disgruntled to become enamored once again, and before the episode ends there are trees decorated and carols sung. Even Carl, who started out the day as a card-carrying member of Club Grinch, is able to harness the positivity that comes but once year. It’s the beauty of a sitcom-resolution at its finest.

Steve Urkel and Carl Winslow are an odd pair. There’s no denyin’ it. But we can take solace in the fact that they’ve walked the glass-covered roads of pessimism on our behalf, informing us in 23-minutes that Christmas is, in fact, where the heart is.