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Hallmark, Here for It, #352

R. Eric Thomas

14 Dec 2025 • 8 min read

Hi! It's R. Eric Thomas. From the internet?
Hi!

My car battery is dead and it’s really a shame that there is no solution for that. People keep saying crazy things, "what are you talking about? Just have someone jump you car to restart it." And I’m like, "ah, if only the technology existed to make that beautiful dream a reality. But no. It is. Not possible. My car is a thing of the past now and I will remember it fondly."

Pictured: My car, about to be towed to... Heaven? I don't really understand the Cars universe. But you know who does? My 3-year-old nephew, who defends a dissertation about this film series every time I see him. It's incredible. What kind of chokehold does Lightning McQueen have over the toddlers? I could bring him any number of toys but I believe that nothing will make me cooler in his eyes than the fact that I drive a red car. I told him once that my car was Lightning McQueen and he looked at me like I told him I believed the moon landing was an inside job. He called the FBI on me, actually. He was like, this man is not to be trusted but wow what a cool car.

I discovered my battery was dead as I was on my way to pick up a chair from a friend. A few weeks ago, he texted me a picture of a chair and asked “did you say you wanted this chair?” While that sounds like something my character would do, I have not yet reached the point of walking into people’s houses and making demands like I'm Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka.

Coming over for a holiday party and leaving with a framed photo of your extended family. “Is this… for me?”

Pictured: Me, admiring your Le Creuset dutch oven in periwinkle. "Should... I... take that home??"

I am definitely the person who will ask you how much you paid for every single thing in your house. Expensive, cheap, I don’t care. I just need to know because I have Bob Barker Syndrome. It’s thing where your whole life is an episode of Price is Right? It’s in the medical journals and the only cure is for you to walk me through your house and say things like “you see this end table? $35! Final sale! And I used a gift card!”

Telling me you got an already reduced price thing for an even more reduced price will literally add years to my life.

Anyway, I had to text my friend that I wouldn't be coming to pick up the chair because of my car, which art in Heaven. And that text took years off my life, because there's nothing I hate more than having to not get a free thing when it was possible to get a free thing.

The other day I was at the mall (because I am cool) and they were giving out samples in front of a knock off Auntie Anne's (I think it was called something like "Pamela, your mother's friend from her old job") and I watched in horror as the people who reached the sample basket earlier than me slowly whittled the number of available samples down to just one. There was a guy walking toward me and we locked eyes and I tried to communicate, "I have Bob Barker Syndrome; it says so on my medic alert bracelet, right next to 'allergic to nuts but apparently willing to eat random baked goods in a mall...???' So you have to let me have this." And did he? NO! He yoinked the strawberry covered pretzel bite (um, Pamela, I'm sorry that sounds disgusting) right out from under my outstretched hand and kept walking.

But, let's back up. Why didn't I just attend to my battery when I discovered it? Well, I was on a time crunch because I had plans to go to see Merrily We Roll along with my bestie Chris and his mom in New Jersey.

I hitched a ride with Chris, which is always a delightful time. We listen to the same music and have the same thoughts and cackle the whole ride. And, as a special treat, I got to see the neighborhood where he grew up. I love an origin story episode!

Something significant happened at this 7-Eleven! I don't remember what, but ATTENTION MUST BE PAID!

After the movie, Chris, his absolutely wonderful mother, and I went to go get his parents a Christmas tree from a lot outside of a Rita's Water Ice stand. I began to feel, in the best way possible, like a supporting character in a Hallmark Holiday movie. I'm the acerbic big city friend whose flight got canceled (on Christmas Eve!) and whose evil tech bro boyfriend didn't have enough room on his private plane so, sure, I'll go with my bestie back to his hometown but what do you mean this 7-Eleven doesn't serve Matcha Lattes?! How will I survive?!

I like to be a Joan Cusack type. Loud costumes, quips, and, at the climax of the movie, when Chris is going to make a grand gesture to the Christmas tree lot salesman he's fallen for, I put down my mug of spiked egg nog and say "Go get 'em, kid. I'm rooting for you!" before returning to my game of canasta with Eunice, the nosy neighbor woman whom I have befriended and would die for.

I don't think I'm going to have a Christmas tree this year, which made my sad, because I realized I wanted it, even though I kind of didn't want to go through all the trouble. And I'm not sure that I'm allowed to have a live tree in my apartment building. But when has the law ever applied to me? I'm Lightning McQueen, who I believe is maybe an outlaw?? In the Cars universe? I'll have to consult my nephew's dissertation, Speed Limits: On Legality, Morality, and Running in the House and Why I Should Be Allowed to Do It in Actuality

So, it was really healing to step into this Hallmark movie, and wander through the selection of Douglas firs and Fraser firs with my bestie and his mom. And I got to satisfy my Bob Barker Syndrome by loudly exclaiming, "Wow, these prices are great! When I bought a Christmas tree from Whole Foods in the city I had to sell a kidney to afford it! Consider me sold on this charming hometown! Eunice, I'm moving in!" It added years to my life.

Joan Cusack and Miss Piggy in a promotional still from the Hallmark Holiday movie, "Carols at the Spinet", costarring June Squibb as "Eunice" and Audra McDonald as "Pamela"

I've been talking!

Catch me on PBSNewsHour talking about holiday conversation etiquette and dealing with difficult relatives!

And listen to me on NPR's Books We've Loved podcast doing a deep dive on Their Eyes Were Watching God, with Andrew Limbong and B.A. Parker.

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$35! Final sale! And I used a gift card!,
Eric