If you gambled on a particularly old tape you never knew if messing with the tracking feature would actually do anything. It was like blowing on an old NES cartrige. Total placebo effect in action.
So many nights began with me hurling things at the VCR. Massaging the tracking dial in the hopes that the squiggles on the screen would dissipate. Hitting the side of it so hard the tape would eject.
And tracking wasn't the only issue. My VCR was capable of producing a sizeable graveyard of chewed up tapes. It was as if natural selection was taking place in my living room. The VCR decided what was crap and what wasn't. If the VCR chewed a tape to hell and then spit it out, an eerie calm would descend upon the den.
"Did the VCR just kill Howard the Duck?"
"Yeah, and that was our only copy."
"Goddamnit!"
I'm not sure how much discretion my VCR had. Somehow Fried Green Tomatoes and Heathers played perfectly in high definition. But put in The Sandlot or Predator and the VCR would shut off or destroy the tape before the start of the second act.
My VCR spit out, chewed up, or melted the following classics:
The Burbs (melted due to androgynous Bulgarian-looking antagonist)
License to Drive (chewed: Corey Feldman and Corey Haim must've been too much to handle in the same movie)
Twins (melted the instant Kelly Preston started to seduce Arnold)
Rambo II (burnt up within seconds, a sacrifice to the VCR gods and the screenwriters who sold their souls to Satan to write hack dialog for $250,000 against $1 million)
Flight of the Navigator (disintegrated: tape rewound too much to see if robot voice was actually Pee-Wee Herman)
Turner & Hooch (melted: a post-Bosom Buddies let down for Tom Hanks)
Tango & Cash (chewed: Sylvester Stallone, Kurt Russell, and Jack Palance in the same movie)
The Breakfast Club (melted when Ally Sheedy shook dandruff out of her hair)
Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot (melted: Stallone as Sgt. Joe Bomowski--enough said)
See, DVD players have made my life too painless; trying to toggle through the language selection featuer is too much. I need the pain and unpredictableness of the VCR.
What would K-9 be if I didn't see James Belushi's face rolling like a sloshing sail boat on the screen, screaming to get a beat on the tracking? How could I get through Road House if Patrick Swayze wasn't interrupted by technical difficulties every nine minutes?
I've thought about this and decided the only remedy is purchasing the $39.99 DVD player from Wal Mart. I'm betting on the shitty factor being off the charts. If I'm lucky, it'll screw up.
DVD players can bite my ass. No more blinking 12:00. No more tracking knobs. And no more eulogies over classics burnt up in the VCR inferno. VCR, I love you. And I'll never forget the nights we spent together, you technologically inept bastard.
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