I brought home some stuff from my dad’s house yesterday. He is purging the place of nearly sixty years of accumulated stuff. Mom was packrat. A lot of it should have been trashed years ago. Who needs EVERY cancelled check you have from the bank? When I saw “every” I mean every one since the beginning of time. Or copies of utilities bills from the 1990s?
One of the things I brought home was a box of 8mm home movies from when I was a kid. I haven’t looked at all of the labels (of course Mom labeled them, see above) but it looks like they stop around 1969 or so. I don’t know how brittle or faded they are. I don’t have a projector to view them. I may take a few to have copied onto disk at some point. I still have about 20 of my own Hi8 tapes to get done. I’m not sure what it will cost for sixty year old film.
I could just look at it through a magnifying glass, 18 frames per second wouldn’t be too boring...*
Once the world discovers my genius and true greatness there will likely be a clamoring for information on my beginnings and childhood. The Smithsonian will certainly want to lovingly restore these tapes to their black and white (or maybe even color!) original glory. I have no doubt this archival footage will be the centerpiece of a new wing built in my honor.
These films won’t win an Oscar though. Directed and filmed by my Dad, starring my brother, mother, and I, the all-white cast and crew will not meet the diversity standards of the Academy. After all, why choose the Best Picture when you can honor the most diverse one.
* of course it would