Sunday night my dad asked my help for a project. He wanted me to show him how to use the VHS-to-Computer converter so he could transfer the copious amounts of home movies we have (we also have my mom’s dad’s videos). I was trying to stay away from the project because:
But I showed him how. I recorded the first segment on the tape (a boat trip from 1990) and took the file upstairs (to my computer) to clean it up a little bit. If I only did that I would have been fine. But I didn’t.
I made the 14-minute video into a miniature short and proceeded to show it to my mom when she got up for work.
(She loved it. Not the point. Moving on)
Tonight my dad showed me a video my mom’s dad did six months before he died. Essentially, he laid out his life story. From birth to that day. It’s one of the most rioting things I’ve ever watched. And it’s not like it’s complex in any way. He’s sitting in a rocking chair, looking out a window, talking to the camera.
While watching the first bit of his story all I could think about was how I have to keep writing. Pop didn’t just record family gatherings, he broke out the camera to film ducks by the river, he chronicled a wood project he did, he watched my aunt’s dog play (this was in 1990 – wayyyy before pet selfies were a thing). The point is that he wanted to chronicle his story. He wanted people to know he existed. I can totally relate to that. I just want to tell peoples stories.
One day I hope to do something with the video. Clean it up, upload it to you-tube – I don’t know. Until that day, Pop gave me the inspiration to keep working on my actual projects (and not just say that I am working on them).
… Here’s a picture of me on a boat at three and a half.