We used to be current, useful and necessary. At one point, if it hadn’t been for us, you’d have never seen a fraction of those movies as a kid.
You used to be excited when you found us, opened our cases and put us into our old friend, VCR.
You used to be so proud of us. So proud, in fact, you’d stack us high in plain sight in your home. You’d count us and catalogue us, you’d share us with friends. You’d stay up late with us and laugh, root or cry at whatever we’d screen for you.
At holiday times, you relied on us to capture and record those movies and shows that you weren’t around to watch.
At Christmas time, you unwrapped us and smiled when you saw that we had your favourite movie recorded onto us.
You came to our special store to visit us and borrow us for the weekend. We’d entertain you all weekend long, until you had to return us.
Years passed by, and you realised you no longer needed us.
Newer, faster, smaller versions of us were created.
You soon realised, there were so many of the old us, you didn’t know what to do with us.
So, you got rid of us, binned us, destroyed us.
Many of us still remain. We sit in cupboards, in attics, in boxes. But, we know that nobody is coming. Nobody needs or wants to see what we have to offer.
Children have been born and don’t even know anything about us. We are a photo in a history book, a paragraph in a past technology blog.
Our time has long been over. Once, we were the only source of your enjoyment and entertainment.
Now, we are just plastic and tape, waiting to be recycled and eventually forgotten.