Blockbuster Video - No Nostalgia For You

An era came to a quiet end last week. Few people cared, and those that may have said very little. This particular end was not met with any of the typical nostalgia requisite of a good ending. Thick slices of nostalgia are served up when a beloved local business closes, an old ballpark is torn down or a former world leader passes away. For a short time we are willing to forget that the store's prices were outrageous, the ballpark had three bathrooms for every 1,000 spectators and the fallen leader - for all of his rhetoric - was not very kind to the poor. None of these things happened. Blockbuster Video - the movie rental giant - announced this past week the closing of its remaining stores. The collective national response? Meh.

Blockbuster, and countless other video rental stores, are following the poet T.S. Eliot's oft-paraphrased adage; dying with a whimper rather than a bang. They have been on life support for a decade and no one within the industry had the good sense to pull the plug years ago. Forward-thinking titans in the industry took the temperature of consumers in the late 90's and quickly discerned that if customers don't have to drive from point A to point B to get their movie entertainment, they won't. From this obvious truth, streaming services like Netflix and On Demand were born. Sure, the technology to stream didn't exist when Blockbuster was in its heyday, but they were late to the party when the river started flowing.

But as previously mentioned, Americans haven't seemed to wring a drop of nostalgia from Blockbuster's announcement, and neither have I. In fact, I am reminded of Blockbuster's slow demise daily. Just a half mile away a faded blue building sits off a busy highway. Only two thoughts ever cross my mind when I glance over at the abandoned structure - when is someone going to tear it down, and would anyone notice (or care) if I tossed a brick through its plate-glass windows?

 

Nostalgia is a funny thing. Like gray hairs, the older we get the more nostalgia we accrue - that combination of sad/happy feelings about something that once was but is now long gone. The feeling is fleeting and can't be predicted. It often comes out of nowhere and quickly evaporates. And nostalgia is impossible to manufacture because it operates on a personal level. 

 

But, for the sake of argument (and this blogpost), I believe there are some things to be missed about the video store rental experience. Unlike true nostalgia, these have been shared and deserve a proper memorial:

 

1. Spending an obscene amount of time looking for one decent flick because the store did not have the good sense to alphabetize their videos within genres. The alphabet was created for a purpose people!

 

2. Lying shamelessly to convince the minimum-wage store clerk to waive your late fees. Creative writing is a walk in the park compared to lying with a straight face that you would have returned the video on time if only, if only, if only . . .

 

3. Bringing an ongoing argument with your significant other into the video store. Having a fight with a spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend through clenched teeth is a sight to see, and could be seen often at Blockbuster. Whatever the argument was about quickly morphed into choosing a rental so the couple could go home and ignore each other for at least two hours more. Streaming has denied the general public this movie before the movie experience.

 

4. Standing in a slow-moving line because the clerks are required to offer customers some deluxe (i.e. rip-off) form of membership that no one wants but are forced to hear pitched by pimply-faced employees over and over and over . . .

 

5. Running into an ex and their new significant other. Exponential awkwardness - yikes. One of two things happen - someone makes an obviously unplanned (and noisy) dash for the exit or an unavoidable exchange ensues ("You look good. Me? I'm great, never better. Doing really well actually."). Tubs of ice cream and days spent in pajamas follow.

 

6. Patiently repeating to your children as you impatiently waited in line, "We have popcorn at home. We have popcorn at home. We have popcorn at home." Clicking your heels was optional.

 

There is very little longing to latch onto with the passing of Blockbuster Video and its predecessors. I know nostalgia when I see it and that big blue building didn't muster up any. Maybe there is a brick around here somewhere.

 

Rest In Pieces.