Something about the Christmas season seems to inspire some of the very worst made-for-TV movies.

I know this, of course, only because I watch them. Or at least some of them. And in that sense, I suppose I’m guilty of contributing to the demand for them – if only because I occasionally enjoy a bad made-for-TV movie simply for how bad it is.

By bad, I mean the kind of movie where Kathy Ireland’s character suffers some sort of bout of amnesia but ultimately remembers she’s Santa’s daughter, just in time to keep her evil sister from destroying the North Pole by selling it piece by piece. The movie emphasizes the importance of belief – in what, I’m not too sure. But evidently if you have the right kind – and enough of it – it will enable you to teleport to Santa’s workshop.

Of course, I know most Santa-themed movies aren’t supposed to be cinematic masterpieces to anyone over age 8. But last weekend, I encountered a holiday movie that – even without any indication it was meant to belong to the Santa-or-some-other-kind-of-fantasy genre – still lacked any aspect of believability.

In this movie, Heather Locklear plays a single mother living in Denver who celebrates her 40th birthday by taking a trip to Hawaii, where she just happens to meet a 27-year-old surfing instructor who just happens to become her boyfriend. By the last scene of the movie, despite their obvious stage-of-life and geographical differences, things are looking pretty good for them. They’re also surfing in Santa hats.

I’m not actually complaining about these movies. They’re really pretty perfect for turning on while you’re doing other things and can only follow a storyline that doesn’t require your complete attention. They also make me glad the heart of Christmas is actually about something other than Santa and surfers and most other made-for-TV-movie fodder.

I know that for a lot of people, the idea of God becoming a human baby seems just as unbelievable as the above-mentioned plotlines, and I can understand that. But I also understand that take away the true Christmas story and you’re left with something a lot less meaningful, a lot less hopeful, a lot less relevant to real life.

You’re left with the stuff of bad made-for-TV movies, really, which – as strangely enjoyable as it might be in its own right – isn’t much of anything worth celebrating.