Youth
There was a time in my youth, before our age of equity release schemes and alco-pops, when I literally dreamed about VHS videos every single night. Every dream I saw a different one – Evil Dead, Army of Darkness, The Hitcher, The Graduate – and the graphics would come to life. Then DVD technology came on the scene and those dreams died almost overnight. It just wasn’t the same dreaming about DVD boxes. They were lighter than VHS and lacked a certain tactile charm; even the smell wasn’t the same – they were far too new and had no history, like plastic ghosts with no soul and no meaning. They didn’t even open in a satisfying way and there was no click. If you’re a movie lover then I think you can agree that nothing compares to slipping a full-size extra special video of your choosing in to that magical slot–
Recently I found a load of old VHS videos under my bed. It was a magical, awesome moment. They weren’t just any videos, either, they were some of my favourites; cherished memoirs of times gone by when nothing else but the imaginery world and having just enough money to buy sweets from the shops mattered. Videos I had treasured. Videos that’s smelt of the adventures of youth. Sleepovers with friends, nights spent being scared witless, the excitement of unwrapping a movie that was supposed to be scarier than anything any of us had ever seen and was rated 18–
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