Sappy 'Frosty' Leaves Betsy Cold

I have a confession to make: I hate "Frosty the Snowman."

I don't mean the song. It's the TV program. I hate it.

I've always hated it. I think it's a stupid show, nothing more than a pale imitation of the sublime "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."

Now, I have no doubt that dozens of you are currently risking injury to your index finger in your rush to e-mail me and tell me that I'm a cold, hardhearted, callous Scrooge, and why "Frosty the Snowman" defined your childhood, and why the world would be a far more horrible place without each year's airing of the show.

Really, don't hurt yourselves. It's not worth it. You can't change my mind.

I can't explain my antipathy. Certainly I am of the correct generation to embrace "Frosty;" for years, I never missed watching "Rudolph," "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." I still watch them when I have the chance.

I believe that those are the three Christmas shows that defined my generation -- those of us who don't remember ever living in a house without a television set.

But "Frosty" seemed stupid and annoying in comparison. It always struck me as a blatant attempt to capitalize on "Rudolph's" deserved popularity: "Hey, this show based on a children's Christmas song and featuring the narration of this old guy, Burl Ives, is wildly popular! Let's find another children's Christmas song and another old guy and duplicate its success!"

Nice try, but it didn't work. (And let's not even get into the incurably lame "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town," which followed "Frosty" a year later.)

Hmm. Obviously some of you still aren't convinced. Let's break it down:

In the first place, the stories from which they were working were different. "Rudolph" had a well-developed plot, which was further developed in the TV version with the addition of Herbie, the elf who wanted to be a dentist, Yukon Cornelius, the Island of Misfit Toys and the Abominable Snow Monster. (My theory is that they weren't part of the song because nothing rhymes with either "Cornelius" or "Abominable.")

"Rudolph" has all the classic elements of a spellbinding story: a likable underdog (or, in this case, underdeer); comic relief (Yukon Cornelius and Herbie); pathos (the Island of Misfit Toys and those obnoxious reindeer who wouldn't let Rudolph join in any reindeer games); danger (Rudolph and Herbie face the Abominable); and high drama (oh no, a foggy Christmas Eve! Whatever will we do?).

"Frosty," on the other hand, is just dumb. So this goofy snowman comes to life and befriends all these kids? Big deal. Why would you want your kids watching something in which poor, unwitting children get sucked into a suspicious cult, anyway? Not to mention the fact that Frosty's untimely demise will probably instill an unreasonable fear of snow for the rest of their lives. ("No, Dad! Please don't send me outside with the shovel! Anything but that!")

If you're looking for positive messages, both "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" have them in spades. Both manage to convey the so-called "true meaning" of Christmas without slamming anyone over the head with it or assuming overly pious attitudes. (And speaking of overly pious attitudes, Dickens' Tiny Tim character has always made me break out in hives. But that's another story.)

"Charlie Brown" is particularly effective at conveying its message. Linus' soliloquy, ending with "That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown," is beautifully simple and straightforward; at the end, when the gang shouts, "Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!", I still -- jaded and world-weary though I am -- get teary-eyed. And there's the added benefit of Vince Guaraldi's marvelous music throughout the show.

The same thing happens to me at the end of "Grinch" when the Grinch's heart grows and he sits down to eat with the Whos, who allow him to carve the roast beast. Sure, it's a little sappier than "Charlie Brown," but I still find myself blinking furiously.

But then I've been known to tear up over Hallmark and AT&T commercials. And as for that current commercial where one snowman says to two others, "You know, we've been friends our whole lives," and then offers little snowman ornaments to his two friends -- I have to dive for the Kleenex every time.

You see? It's not snowmen I hate. It's just that evil Frosty.