We trod the exact same ground. I wrote film reviews at the Red & Black in the late 1980's. (I do it now for two CBS affiliates.) I finished up my law degree as you finished up your lit degree. I lived just down the street from Video Library in Tara Apartments and ate many a burrito at the Taco Stand and the Kitchen Sink at Mama Sid's Pizza. Good times. Thanks for the walk down Memory Lane.
A great reminiscence. Video Library sounds a lot like the type of store one of my best friends worked at (while I worked across the street at a Barnes & Noble): a lot of eclectic choices, backed up by a brisk porn business. (I distinctly remember my friend telling me about one of my high school teacher's preference for bondage vids, thankfully when high school was way behind both of us.)
Greg would lovingly maintain the oddball selection, going so far as to replace the battery of the sound chip imbedded in the Frankenhooker VHS box several times -- long past when people had moved on to DVDs -- so that whenever someone pressed the streetlight on the cover, she'd snarl, "WANNA DATE?" (It's something I still say whenever I open a box of dates in the kitchen; pity my poor wife.)
But anytime I wanted to watch something foreign, or classic, or out of the ordinary, I'd usually be able to find it there. And if not, there was always something else on the shelves to catch my eye.
This was wonderful. I think I would have very much spent a lot of time there had I been here 20 years earlier. Also: Did you read the new book about the Elephant 6?
Aug 17, 2022·edited Aug 17, 2022Liked by Scott Tobias
I, too, was a Red & Black staffer in the early '90s who then moved to the east side after graduate school (my own clip file having been met with similar indifference by potential employers), and became a frequent denizen of Video Library. A couple of years ago Scott's offhanded mention of his time there made me realize why, many years later, I found his voice on The Next Picture Show so pleasingly familiar.
I was managing a restaurant down the street that would often deliver lunch to Link and Dave, and I distinctly remember the arrival of the new, younger fellow behind the counter coinciding with the expansion of the store's foreign film offerings. It was there and roughly then that my self-guided movie education expanded into world cinema. I knew the names of a few of the acknowledged masters, and so began by devouring everything they had of the works of Kurosawa, Fellini, Bergman. Then I branched out into less familiar ground -- I was particularly fond of Kenzi Mizoguchi, and for all I know Scott may have been responsible for stocking the title that eventually inspired my Twitter handle (@sansho1).
Regarding its location on the outskirts of town...back then, I was only dimly aware of the presence around Athens of the Dixie Mafia. We thought of them then as they probably wished to be thought of -- the stuff of legend, probably no longer an ongoing concern. But I've heard much more since then -- stories told by older Athenians and also in the In The Red Clay podcast (which name-checks literally every little town that borders Athens) -- and I'm now convinced they were still very much a part of the fabric of the area, and had influence that extended to how legitimate business was done. These stories have cast some memories of the east side in a different light, such as the time my restaurant decided to change waste management companies and a couple of mean-looking dudes I'd never seen before came in early one morning to frankly try to intimidate the owner out of it, or the old rednecks who'd come in during off-peak hours and set up at a table in the back corner, speaking in conspiratorial whispers when they weren't hitting on the servers.
You didn't have to go far beyond the embrace of campus and downtown to get to country, and that part of town was definitely country. Makes me wonder if perhaps the Video Library continued to exist because...it was allowed to continue to exist? I mean, it's not like Athens/Clarke County cops were averse to enforcing blue laws -- it was only a couple years earlier that I attended a GWAR show that was shut down mid-show on grounds of obscenity. But that was downtown, townie territory. An unobtrusive video store in a shabby strip mall outside the perimeter, though? Hmmm!
My wife and I were in Athens the first weekend in April this year for her birthday (she wanted to go to Last Resort). We drove by where Video Library was and... damn. It could have been something.
Video Central/North Campus Video was like that for Columbus, Ohio. Open 24hrs, legally sold porn in the back, but had an incredible selection of cult, foreign, and art film. I used to spend many insomniac nights in college (and after) just browsing the collection. Often too tired to watch whatever I ended up renting.
I also miss the clerks. One, a friend of a friend's older brother, convinced me to rent Two or Three Things I Know about Her and Pom Pom Girls the same night when I was in high school (an A+ double feature).
Another one, in college, was an older gruff guy with a lot of facial piercings who would know when I came in he'd have enough time to go out and chain smoke for a half hour so he had a soft spot for me. Though he'd also mock whatever I rented unless he thought the lead actor on the cover was sufficiently hot.
Once I came in after I had grown a beard. He said "You look different." I replied, "Ah, the beard." He shook his head and pointed at my stomach, "No. The gut." I guess that had grown too. I started jumping rope while watching special features after that. A habit I should probably pick up again, but I no longer have any video clerks to call me out when my weight fluctuates.
A wonderful reminiscence. On the one hand it makes me very nostalgic for those heady ‘90s days of finding an unknown video store with entire shelves of movies I’ve never even heard of before. I still dream about this.
On the other hand it makes me grateful that our local weirdo video store somehow still exists. I rent from there most weeks. Aro Street Video 4eva.
I'm happy to say my local video store once heard the story of how I baked a cake out of spite for a former cable TV host in the Washington, D.C. area and every time they checked him out they always asked "would you like some chocolate cake too?" That and the "employee picks" remained a gamechanger when learning what to watch.
Oh man, I relate to being a 90s video store porn slinger. I remember one day at Seattle's Scarecrow Video we rented a single disc three times in a day...the tapes and discs in the tiny Sexploitation room paid for SO MANY of the obscurities found elsewhere in the building
We trod the exact same ground. I wrote film reviews at the Red & Black in the late 1980's. (I do it now for two CBS affiliates.) I finished up my law degree as you finished up your lit degree. I lived just down the street from Video Library in Tara Apartments and ate many a burrito at the Taco Stand and the Kitchen Sink at Mama Sid's Pizza. Good times. Thanks for the walk down Memory Lane.
A great reminiscence. Video Library sounds a lot like the type of store one of my best friends worked at (while I worked across the street at a Barnes & Noble): a lot of eclectic choices, backed up by a brisk porn business. (I distinctly remember my friend telling me about one of my high school teacher's preference for bondage vids, thankfully when high school was way behind both of us.)
Greg would lovingly maintain the oddball selection, going so far as to replace the battery of the sound chip imbedded in the Frankenhooker VHS box several times -- long past when people had moved on to DVDs -- so that whenever someone pressed the streetlight on the cover, she'd snarl, "WANNA DATE?" (It's something I still say whenever I open a box of dates in the kitchen; pity my poor wife.)
But anytime I wanted to watch something foreign, or classic, or out of the ordinary, I'd usually be able to find it there. And if not, there was always something else on the shelves to catch my eye.
This was wonderful. I think I would have very much spent a lot of time there had I been here 20 years earlier. Also: Did you read the new book about the Elephant 6?
I, too, was a Red & Black staffer in the early '90s who then moved to the east side after graduate school (my own clip file having been met with similar indifference by potential employers), and became a frequent denizen of Video Library. A couple of years ago Scott's offhanded mention of his time there made me realize why, many years later, I found his voice on The Next Picture Show so pleasingly familiar.
I was managing a restaurant down the street that would often deliver lunch to Link and Dave, and I distinctly remember the arrival of the new, younger fellow behind the counter coinciding with the expansion of the store's foreign film offerings. It was there and roughly then that my self-guided movie education expanded into world cinema. I knew the names of a few of the acknowledged masters, and so began by devouring everything they had of the works of Kurosawa, Fellini, Bergman. Then I branched out into less familiar ground -- I was particularly fond of Kenzi Mizoguchi, and for all I know Scott may have been responsible for stocking the title that eventually inspired my Twitter handle (@sansho1).
Regarding its location on the outskirts of town...back then, I was only dimly aware of the presence around Athens of the Dixie Mafia. We thought of them then as they probably wished to be thought of -- the stuff of legend, probably no longer an ongoing concern. But I've heard much more since then -- stories told by older Athenians and also in the In The Red Clay podcast (which name-checks literally every little town that borders Athens) -- and I'm now convinced they were still very much a part of the fabric of the area, and had influence that extended to how legitimate business was done. These stories have cast some memories of the east side in a different light, such as the time my restaurant decided to change waste management companies and a couple of mean-looking dudes I'd never seen before came in early one morning to frankly try to intimidate the owner out of it, or the old rednecks who'd come in during off-peak hours and set up at a table in the back corner, speaking in conspiratorial whispers when they weren't hitting on the servers.
You didn't have to go far beyond the embrace of campus and downtown to get to country, and that part of town was definitely country. Makes me wonder if perhaps the Video Library continued to exist because...it was allowed to continue to exist? I mean, it's not like Athens/Clarke County cops were averse to enforcing blue laws -- it was only a couple years earlier that I attended a GWAR show that was shut down mid-show on grounds of obscenity. But that was downtown, townie territory. An unobtrusive video store in a shabby strip mall outside the perimeter, though? Hmmm!
My wife and I were in Athens the first weekend in April this year for her birthday (she wanted to go to Last Resort). We drove by where Video Library was and... damn. It could have been something.
Video Central/North Campus Video was like that for Columbus, Ohio. Open 24hrs, legally sold porn in the back, but had an incredible selection of cult, foreign, and art film. I used to spend many insomniac nights in college (and after) just browsing the collection. Often too tired to watch whatever I ended up renting.
I also miss the clerks. One, a friend of a friend's older brother, convinced me to rent Two or Three Things I Know about Her and Pom Pom Girls the same night when I was in high school (an A+ double feature).
Another one, in college, was an older gruff guy with a lot of facial piercings who would know when I came in he'd have enough time to go out and chain smoke for a half hour so he had a soft spot for me. Though he'd also mock whatever I rented unless he thought the lead actor on the cover was sufficiently hot.
Once I came in after I had grown a beard. He said "You look different." I replied, "Ah, the beard." He shook his head and pointed at my stomach, "No. The gut." I guess that had grown too. I started jumping rope while watching special features after that. A habit I should probably pick up again, but I no longer have any video clerks to call me out when my weight fluctuates.
Man, what memories. I never lived in Georgia, but so much love for random other video stores in the midwest. Thanks for reminding me of those times.
A wonderful reminiscence. On the one hand it makes me very nostalgic for those heady ‘90s days of finding an unknown video store with entire shelves of movies I’ve never even heard of before. I still dream about this.
On the other hand it makes me grateful that our local weirdo video store somehow still exists. I rent from there most weeks. Aro Street Video 4eva.
I'm happy to say my local video store once heard the story of how I baked a cake out of spite for a former cable TV host in the Washington, D.C. area and every time they checked him out they always asked "would you like some chocolate cake too?" That and the "employee picks" remained a gamechanger when learning what to watch.
Oh man, I relate to being a 90s video store porn slinger. I remember one day at Seattle's Scarecrow Video we rented a single disc three times in a day...the tapes and discs in the tiny Sexploitation room paid for SO MANY of the obscurities found elsewhere in the building