This morning at 6.45 am, the cheaper-half walked in the living room as I was on my knees, backside facing him, in front of the telly. No, Christmas hadn't come that early for him. Mind you, maybe he thought it had, as I had my hand posted deep into the video slot while the power was on. Anyhow, I was cussing like a 5 year-old (I'm Scottish) and acting like one, too! Hubby yelled at me for my stupidity - no sympathy for my insomnia though - but he didn't want anything that precious to him to come to any harm. The video must be at least 8 years old and he really hoped it'd live until it was ten.
Video players these days have lost all their awe and wonderment and are viewed as being a menace of society for silly arses who adopt all the shit babbies personally procreated inside it by YOU, therefore compelling yourself to life long sparse storage space by keeping the little bastards. Unlike human reproduction, there's no chance of you being lumbered with an ugly 'baby' as you know beforehand exactly what'll be popping out of it!
Don't get me wrong, I love the convenience of the DVD and all that and obviously a lot of older stuff can be regenerated onto those lovely, slick discs (that double for handbag mirrors!) and Bobs-your-uncle! But I have over the years, taped so much stuff that will never be available again. Films I've a chance with, but one-off plays, and silly shows and shit that just isn't there any more. So, back to my knee carpet burns, there I am, hand in the video player, trying like a bastard to get the chewed up tape of one of my favourite films out without much harm.........
*The Phrophecy -1995. Christopher Walken and some fit ginger bloke. Great film about the war in Heaven between Arch Angel Gabriel and Old Lucifer who are more than a bit pissed at God for giving we human's souls and who decide to pop down to visit we mortals (via America of course!) and sort this bloody blip in the old man's judgement out!*
Plug over....., I'm more gutted that my tape's mangled than my hand may shred on it's way out. But the cheaper-half switched off the power and withdrew my hand gently while tutting like a right shit. Good job, I didn't mention that the various dental tools on the mantle-piece (courtesy of my daughter's surgery) weren't for the impromptu after-breakfast check up I was planning but had been stabbed in the innards of the machine just in case that helped! Alas, like Gabriel, my war was over too (only I got to keep my eyes). I had to accept that the machine was now declared officially dead. This had happened one time too many.
I know he was old and embarrassing. PrettyBoy used to chuck a towel over the silver, chunky fellow ( the video, not his dad) when his mates were in, but I'll miss that solid THUD when the tape eventually rewound. And I know you can replace him these days for like,.. £2.99 or something now but insomnia will never be the same without him as I drag hundreds of telly recorded black cheap tapes from the unit to find the fitting one.