While I don’t think she will be throwing out her trusty VCR for the forseeable future, it’s safe to say that the arrival yesterday of my mum’s shiny new Sky+ box marked the beginning of the end for this particular piece of faithful technology.
The signs, of course, have been there for some time. With our local Woolworths gone, and Sainsbury’s no longer stocking the tapes, my mum’s supplies have dwindled to just one video which can no longer record from the start of the tape. Every night for several weeks now, my mum has recorded her nightly soaps from five minutes on the clock. And with digital switchover also imminent, now seemed like the appropriate time.
Unlike most of my fellow children of the 80s, I don’t feel any particular nostaligic attachment towards the humble video cassette recorder. I never really watched much television growing up, and while we had our tapes of Star Wars cartoons that we’d gotten free with tubs of Dairylea I was usually reading or writing when I had time to myself. But I’ll always forget to remember to change the channel between Coronation Street and Eastenders for my mum’s TV viewing once the three of us were in bed.
Last night she showed me everything she’d learned about her new remote, including switching out of Sky mode so she can still view her Teletext. And she got to watch the 10pm Eastenders repeat, because we forgot to switch over the tape.
I still miss VCR, and wonder what to do about the stacks of vids I have stashed away. Some really good random stuff from old 4later programmes, taped stuff off MTV and the like. It worries me that Rosie wont even know what VCR was.
I can just about remember Betamax vs VHS debate. Christ that makes me feel old.