Jed's Video was as sacred to me as the marshes and backyards and train tracks of my hometown. The store changed locations once but was always within reach on our bikes, a journey that involved a perilous crossing of the four lanes of Route 12. The second location was better, being near to the tasty hot dogs of Wiener Take All. They wouldn't rent the R-rated movies to you, but you could look at the cover boxes all you wanted. The horror movie boxes had the best, most gruesome pictures, and since they were verboten I was doubly fascinated. They would let you take out PG-13 movies (even before you were thirteen!) and so we rented Tremors and Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome and Critters 2* again and again. Once a dangerously curious friend swiped his parents' rental card and he and I managed to obtain Faces of Death. I still remember riding the bus the next day feeling rather ill and a rare sense of regret. (I only just today learned that much of the footage of actual human deaths is fake.)
Video rental culture died with VHS. During the summer I spent jockeying tapes at a Blockbuster Video (Jed's and its friendly neighborhood kin had been muscled out by the evil rental corporations; Blockbuster owned my labor but never my allegiance) the VHS liquidation was underway. The well-loved cardboard videocassette boxes with their thumbed and curling corners, stuffed with creaking Styrofoam inserts, were daily replaced by sterile plastic DVD cases that snapped and pinched. There is a satisfying weight to a sturdy VHS tape, a mild pleasure in the way a pile of them will clatter and click. By their substantial mass they seem more important, less disposable. Walking out of Jed's with a tape — a particular black box that had somehow been located by the clerk among the millions of identical black boxes behind the counter and withdrawn just for you — you felt that you had been entrusted with a valued object, and you pedaled quickly home.
* The best of the Critters series, as everyone knows. Contains a mind-blowing scene of copious naked boobs. PG-13??
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
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Kill Crites!
ReplyDeleteInteresting: my nostalgia is the opposite. My mother would never let me rent movies in her absence (I don't think there was a shop in biking range anyway); but once I could drive, buying the Stanley Kubrick DVD box set was a revelation.
ReplyDeleteBarry Lyndon is the underrated gem in the box set.
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