The Video Shop

Above this is a map of the town I grew up in. In fact, I think technically it's considered a village by population standards. As you can see by the map you could pretty much walk it from end to end in about a half hour, probably less actually. My Dad still lives here and I visit a few times a year, and as disconnected as I am to this place, I still feel a connection to it. It's given me a perspective which I take with me in my work and my life. I wouldn't trade where I come from for anything. I never ever plan on moving back there, but I'm happy to have come from there.

I bring this up because something very sad happened while I was there this weekend. What used to be one of, if not, my favorite place disappeared. Or closed up shop, as it were. 'The Video Shop". Picture me walking, bicycling, across town - once a week on an extremely busy week, usually a few times a week, to this small shop. And each time I went I'd get at least three movies or more. And this was back in the days where you had to return them the next day. There were yellow tag movies (new releases, $3), blue tag (somewhat new, $2), and red tags (older films, $1). And my combination of money and time available usually dictated how many films I watched and in what domination. I'd always try to get a newer film, and I really liked looking through what seemed like endless shelves for an old gem that I hadn't seen - or one that I had seen and loved. I'd rent some films multiple times never getting sick of them. I loved watching the same films over and over. Even on nights where I'd rent three or four films, I'd probably re-watch one of the ones I liked best the next morning before I had to take them back. I had that place memorized and would often help people find what they were looking for.

When I was ten or so (I can't remember at all) I was sick at home and my favorite thing to do was sleep on the couch and watch movies none stop, and my parents (bless them) indulged me. And in one of the trips from The Video Shop they brought my "Return to Oz" and, I have no idea what it was about that film, but I found myself going back and renting it almost every single weekend for many years, until, the tragic day it was taken off the shelves... See it's a small shop, The Video Shop, and it wasn't really the kind of place that had a 'classics' section, or 'foreign films', or anything really sophisticated (at least not in my time, or that I recall), and so from time to time they needed to purge and get rid of some inventory, which in this purge, included 'Return to Oz'. They'd put the films in a box and sell them off. And when I went in to get my favorite film I was heartbroken to see that it was not on the shelf in it's spot. And then delighted when one of the employees presented it to me as a gift. To be honest, I'm pretty sure I never watched it that much after that. Something about the act of walking to the store made it more exciting to watch that film over and over again.

So I was sad to see that it's gone completely upon a walk with my father. It was such a part of my childhood, and honestly, my life. That was my library. My film-history class. And although I probably haven't stepped foot in there in ten years or so, I miss it now more than I thought I could. In my geek-cave at home I've sort of assembled my own Video Shop in a way. I own thousands of films, one of them, of course, 'Return to Oz' (now upgraded to DVD).

My Dad says that the little shop couldn't compete with people downloading off the internet, and other things. I guess you can't beat free. In it's heyday I remember it was the only way to get films just out of theaters. Back then it would be almost a year before films came out on VHS after it's theatrical release (maybe it just felt like a year), and video stores paid a premium for advanced copies to rent out. Now things turn around so quickly, stores get the rental copies the same day the public does. It's just not the same.

So thank you Video Shop, for everything. I owe you more than you know.