Ladies and gentlemen, look at the photo above. That is a laser disc player. Not the one I still own to this day in my NY apartment, but it's pretty darn close. And so begins the excavation of another money pit for yours truly.
I became a laser disc fanatic.
These days, it's all about the DVD and even those are disappearing as more and more folks view their movies on computers via streams, etc.. But, just a short three decades ago, real film devotees were not seeing their at-home entertainment via that clunky VHS tape recorder. Nope, if you loved film, you wanted to see your favorites in the finest presentation possible. And, back when, that was only possible with a laser disc.
It all started so innocently for me. Gee, doesn't it always?
As a newbie working in Manhattan for the first time, one of my co-workers was this radio salesman who loved classic movies. He found a kindred spirit in me and we would waste a lot of business time discussing the works of Billy Wilder, Frank Capra, George Stevens, and the like. At this time, there was no Turner Classic Movies network. If you wanted to see old stuff, you had to rent them. On VHS.
"Oh, no. The only way to go is with a laser disc."
I had no clue what the hell he was talking about. I probably shouldn't have asked for more information. But I did.
And so it began.
This guy had a whole in-home theater setup in his house and he invited me over for a day of movies as they needed to be shown. Through many speakers and via his beloved Laser Disc player.
I became a convert that afternoon. And now needed to figure out how to bring this all to my home. With a budget that was probably one tenth of a successful radio salesperson.
Naturally, I deliberated on this all for about a year. I researched the laser disc equipment market exhaustively. Because, in reality, you need more than just the player. You need speakers. You need a receiver to run it all through. And, let's face it, my screen was going to have to be that 19 inch Zenith portable TV.
I overthought it all long enough. Armed with a spanking new Bankamericard, I did the deed. And then, of course, realized I was ill-equipped to put all this electronic stuff together on my own.
I hadn't even purchased a movie yet and I was already in over my financial head.
But, as soon as Cinema Len was up and running, my apartment was the place to go. Microwave up some Orville Whathisname Popcorn and hit the start button. I certainly was the only one in my group of friends with a laser disc player. Most of them didn't even know what the heck a laser disc was.
They looked like long playing albums and came in jacket sleeves just like the ones that housed the Beatles and Bruce Springsteen. Indeed, a two hour movie had to be divided up across the two sides of the laser disc. Sometime in the middle of the film you were watching, it would stop. The needle would go from one side to the other. And then your movie would pick up where it left off. If the film was more than two hours, it would be spread out over two discs.
But I didn't care. Laser discs were the only way you could access those popular "extras." Commentary tracks. Deleted scenes. Trailers. Plus the quality, even on the boxy Zenith, was sterling.
I was in heaven. And then, thanks to the price of said laser discs, moving quickly to the poor house of Hell.
You see, when this technology began, laser discs were pricey. Each movie was, for the longest time, priced between $79-100. And, except for Tower Records in Manhattan, there was very few stores that carried them. Nope, if you really wanted to collect laser discs, you needed to go mail order and get discount prices from Ken Crane's in Huntington Beach, California.
For about three years, there was never a time in my life when I wasn't expecting a shipment from Ken Crane's. I always had something on order. The UPS guy needed to be added to my Christmas card list. As classic movies were converted to and released on laser disc, I was ordering them. Sometimes on the day they were released.
Some Like It Hot. I have to have.
The Apartment. I have to have.
Singing in the Rain. I have to have.
North by Northwest. I have to have.
Eventually, my "have to haves" numbered in the four hundreds. Laser discs were stored all over my house.
Looking back at this period in my life, I realize now what was going on. My father was sick and dying. Indeed, as I went through that pain each and every day, these laser discs became my in-home escape from it all. I relished the quiet of a favorite movie, flipping on the player midway through.
Eventually, I moved and upgraded the TV to some of those 35 inch Mitsubishi screens. And, all over again, my mom became ill and began her slow exit out.
I'd go home and hit "play." It all went away. Thanks to the likes of Gene Kelly, Judy Garland, James Dean, Jack Lemmon, and the like.
So, the debt that I piled on was not just for laser discs. I was really paying for a type of therapy.
When my writing partner and I started looking west, we made several trips to Los Angeles. On one of those sojourns, I dragged him down the 405 for a pilgrimage. Catholics visit the Vatican. Me? I needed to see the Ken Crane's store myself.
Oddly enough, in my now bi-coastal existence, the laser disc player never made the move with me. Neither did the 400 or so "record albums." They are all still in my apartment there. I don't even think the player is hooked up. I think I switched out the cord for the 75 dollar Blu Ray machine.
Back west, I've got an elaborate TV system that centers around the LA Blu Ray player. Everything has been converted to that format over the past 15 years. And, I went through it all again as movies came out on DVD and Blu Ray.
Some Like It Hot. I have to have.
The Apartment. I have to have.
Singing in the Rain. I have to have.
North by Northwest. I have to have.
I'm pretty caught up now. Everything I had on Laser Disc is now duplicated with a DVD. Yes, the money was spent. I wonder how I would have managed it all if I had to send a kid through college. Wasted expense?
Even now, I love to relax on a quiet night with some old friends from MGM or Paramount or Universal. Hmmm, where in my alphabetized collection of movies do I want to go tonight? It still makes my problems go away for an hour or two. And, wow, you don't have to wait for the film to flip over in the middle.
The laser disc player in NY greets me every time I am there. I may not turn it on. But it's there for me. And I realize just how vital it was when my parents departed this world.
Yep, I collected quite a debt over the years. But, in reality, it's nothing in comparison to what I owe to my old laser disc player.
Dinner last night: Beef lo mein at Wokcano.
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