Reality killed the video store
Or How I Learned To Stop Idealizing (and sell out to a corporate chain)
(Page 3 of 3)
As the owner of any business knows, a career change is not as easy as giving two weeks' notice. But after a run-in with one of my landlords last August, in which he mumbled something about the favor that his attorney owed him, I decided to sell within a year's time, telling only my manager and immediate family. My wife was fine with my decision, especially because she had taken on a lot of the duties that I had become unable to perform, all the while still teaching in Boston and working on her doctoral dissertation.
I fixed on finding someone who would continue to run my stores as independent entities. Imagine my dismay when I learned that for the kind of money I was asking, I was going to have to throw the second store in for free if I was to avoid doing the corporate two-step.
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"And in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening and good night!"
- Truman Burbank, "The Truman Show"
Finally, in an effort to prove the stores were viable, I solicited Blockbuster and Hollywood Video. Imagine my surprise when both chains called me back in about a week, and when Hollywood shortly made an offer on one store equal to the previous offer for both.
At the same time, it was becoming evident that I needed to sell for top dollar. If not, I would be forced to sell my father's house, in which I planned to raise his grandchildren, as I could not get a mortgage because of my store-related debt. With the prospect looming of declaring bankruptcy and moving back into an apartment, I swallowed my pride. With a purchase and sale agreement that seemed to indemnify Hollywood Video until the very second before signing, I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers.
The sale went through Aug. 4. In kind of the same way I felt when I first saw my father's life summed up in terms of when he lived, the epitaph "1995-2003" is still a bit haunting. It is like saying goodbye to an old friend who was so much a part of you, and just like the money Dad bequeathed, the bounty of the sale is not a magic wand that makes everything right.
I will miss the daily contact with the folks who brought me dinner when I was stuck working a 16-hour shift. I will miss welcoming the annual autumn parade of college freshmen convinced they know everything, and the spring farewell to the seniors, so terrified they don't. And in a way I will miss being that reluctant retail celebrity who cannot spend even a week in Florida without seeing someone he's recommended a movie to.
But just as Chaplin grew weary of donning the bowler and greasepaint moustache, this little tramp is nonetheless eager to bid farewell to the job that until now has defined him, as bittersweet as this introspective Onward and Upward might be.
• Robert Newton is the film writer for Worcester Magazine. Currently in production are two feature films, his second novelty record, a film festival, and, with his wife, a 'little' project tentatively titled 'Robert Newton II: The Next Generation.' He still owns Starship Video in Auburn, Mass., which he will make you a 'wicked good' deal on.
