In Defense of Cheesiness

Why we need to redefine the word.

Photo by Mikey Frost on Unsplash

What has 15 actors, four settings, two writers, and one plot?

632 Hallmark movies.

Or so the meme world says.

On average, I probably watch a dozen Hallmark Christmas or Great American Family movies every year. Yes, they are cheesy. Yes, many of them have the same plot. Yes, they are predictable. But I can’t get enough of them.

Remember Carman, the contemporary Christian music artist? Pure cheese. But how inspiring were his concerts that depicted spiritual warfare on the stage? And as cheesy as it was, it made you think.

Cheesiness is my thing. Hair metal. Dad jokes. Eighties lingo. Nicholas Sparks. Romantic comedies. It’s all cheese, but I don’t think that’s a negative.

If you look up cheesiness, you’ll see definitions such as poor quality, shoddy, pretentious, blatantly inauthentic, cheap or sentimental. The last one really stands out since I’m as sentimental as they come.

You can make fun of hair metal, but I once sat in a parking lot with my dad shortly after he got out of rehab for alcohol abuse and played him a hair metal song about being all alone. We were trying to give each other a glimpse into each other’s world, and I think this song found its mark. He nodded along with pursed lips.

You can make fun of Nicholas Sparks, but the way he has zeroed in on the power of first love is undeniable. So is his depiction of sacrificial love. After reading “The Notebook,” and then watching the movie, I watched it with one of my sisters, anxiously waiting for her response to the final scene. I’ll just say tears were involved, and it led to a conversation about sacrificial love.

You can make fun of dad jokes all you want, but I once shared this one with one of my sisters and she nearly died laughing: What do you call a deer with no eyes? No idear (you have to shrug when you deliver the punch line). She texted it to her boyfriend who was meeting with a client at the time. He laughed uncontrollably in the middle of the meeting. I don’t think shared belly laughs are a bad thing.

I’m sort of known for being stoic. That’s just my personality. I need to process before you’ll get any sort of reaction from me. While I’m processing, I’m a robot. But once I get to know and trust you, my stoicism fades and my cheesy side comes out to play. True connection is usually close behind.

I’m not embarrassed to feel such connections so deeply that I shed a tear with someone. I don’t see the means to that connection as shoddy, pretentious, blatantly inauthentic, cheap or poor quality.

This makes me think we need to redefine cheesiness. I will accept sentimental, sappy and maybe even a little sacchariney (yes, I used that term as an adjective rather than a noun; maybe that’s cheesy too). But I think the world could use a little more of all three right now.