Post by Hucklebubba on Aug 31, 2007 20:49:51 GMT -5
Tom Keifer, frontman of 80s glam-metal band Cinderella, once sang/squawked that "you don't know what you got, 'til it's gone." I submit that it's just as true that you don't know what you've been missing 'til it shows up in the mail from Japan (already showing strong signs of geekiness!)
A couple weeks back, I ordered a laserdisc of a particular anime from an eBay seller in Japan. That said, consider the following:
--I do not own a laserdisc player.
--I do not understand Japanese.
--I already have the anime in question on DVD.
"Okay," you think to yourself, "Senseless, yet still uninteresting."
Correct on both counts. In fact, you may reach the end of this post and find the whole thing has been a colossal waste of time. But, hey, you made it this far; may as well tough it out, right?
Something else that's pertinent to the story is the fact that I somehow made it through the month or so that represented the lifespan of the format in question without ever seeing an actual laserdisc. But more importantly, I had somehow gotten it in my head that I had, and that the discs were only slightly larger than CD/DVD size. Like, maybe an extra quarter-inch in diameter.
So, you can imagine my surprise when a monstrosity the size of a freaking vinyl record showed up on my doorstep. I worried that they had sent me Journey: Frontiers by mistake, which would've been bad, because I already have that (NERD!).
This is just the sort of thing I get overreactingly delighted over. Anyone who's seen Harry and the Hendersons; remember the noises Harry makes when he's excited? That was me for a solid two minutes.
I could actually get rid of the LD itself, since I bought the thing for the liner notes (multilingual, with English being one of the lings) and the cover art (which I did not expect to be near poster-sized), but I'm not about to. In addition to making a fine museum piece, I'm sure the LD would also function admirably as an hors d'oeuvre tray. Or perhaps I could strap it to my forearm and use it as a buckler. Maybe sharpen up the edges and zing it at intruders. The possibilities are endless!
So, that's the whole story. I came into contact with my first laserdisc ever yesterday, and now I'm making way too much of it. Nonetheless, I feel I am a more complete person now than I was before. It's as though I had an immense, laserdisc-shaped emptiness in my soul that has now been filled.
A couple weeks back, I ordered a laserdisc of a particular anime from an eBay seller in Japan. That said, consider the following:
--I do not own a laserdisc player.
--I do not understand Japanese.
--I already have the anime in question on DVD.
"Okay," you think to yourself, "Senseless, yet still uninteresting."
Correct on both counts. In fact, you may reach the end of this post and find the whole thing has been a colossal waste of time. But, hey, you made it this far; may as well tough it out, right?
Something else that's pertinent to the story is the fact that I somehow made it through the month or so that represented the lifespan of the format in question without ever seeing an actual laserdisc. But more importantly, I had somehow gotten it in my head that I had, and that the discs were only slightly larger than CD/DVD size. Like, maybe an extra quarter-inch in diameter.
So, you can imagine my surprise when a monstrosity the size of a freaking vinyl record showed up on my doorstep. I worried that they had sent me Journey: Frontiers by mistake, which would've been bad, because I already have that (NERD!).
This is just the sort of thing I get overreactingly delighted over. Anyone who's seen Harry and the Hendersons; remember the noises Harry makes when he's excited? That was me for a solid two minutes.
I could actually get rid of the LD itself, since I bought the thing for the liner notes (multilingual, with English being one of the lings) and the cover art (which I did not expect to be near poster-sized), but I'm not about to. In addition to making a fine museum piece, I'm sure the LD would also function admirably as an hors d'oeuvre tray. Or perhaps I could strap it to my forearm and use it as a buckler. Maybe sharpen up the edges and zing it at intruders. The possibilities are endless!
So, that's the whole story. I came into contact with my first laserdisc ever yesterday, and now I'm making way too much of it. Nonetheless, I feel I am a more complete person now than I was before. It's as though I had an immense, laserdisc-shaped emptiness in my soul that has now been filled.
