Here for your review is a number of unlabeled VHS tapes. They’re full; of what I do not know. I no longer have a VHS player in my house. Don’t say take them to Costco, they won’t transfer anything that is copyrighted. And don’t say pretend you’re the rights holder, I’ve done that, too. Somehow those people don’t believe I own random SNL sketches from the 90’s or several episodes of “Star Trek: The Next Generation.”
I know one of these unmarked tapes contains my stint as a member of a very important jury on a very important episode of “LA Law.” That was by far the best of all the extra gigs I did that summer. I learned the hard way that that a good living couldn’t be made by working as an extra, even if you did it every day and did it well. I worked for 2 weeks on the movie “Airheads” with about 200 others, from 6pm to sunup. Napping on the cold floor of an empty soundstage is not as fun as it sounds. Sure, some people had sleeping bags and such, but I thought that would just invite trouble. We had to dress like rockers, so I wore this Rampage black bodysuit and torn-up black jersey bell-bottoms that only came to the ankle, with high-heeled black mules. And let me explain this body suit — it had a mock turtleneck and lace sleeves. But the sleeves didn’t start until after the shoulder, then it was like a fingerless glove at the end. I think I spent more on that outfit than I made the entire 2 weeks.
But I didn’t need much money: I had just moved to town and was renting the spare bedroom of a friend’s Sherman Oaks apartment. She always referred to where she lived as “the city,” so when people would ask me where in town I lived, I always said, with total authority, “I live in the city.” She had 2 cats that would give me ringworm and scratch their fleas into the sink where I brushed my teeth. I went to take a shower one morning and startled one of them taking a shit in the litterbox, and I backed out of the room sheepishly, like I’d walked in on a human person. I didn’t know how to cook, so most nights I made brie and strawberry quesadillas. I’d then retreat to my room and watch taped episodes of “Larry Sanders” or “Dream On” or “Star Trek: The Next Generation.” I really cannot overstate how much I loved that show.
You are voting on whether or not I should continue my efforts to discover what hidden treasures might be on these tapes, or to throw them in the garbage and not look back.