I remember our first VCR: a huge, awkward, top-loading machine with a wired remote control. Like most forms of technology in our house (a Commodore VIC-20, a "cable-ready" TV, a police scanner) my brother bought it with earnings he made as a mechanic at a factory. There was no room for it on our TV stand, so we put it on a chair next to the stand, and set about the business of watching movies and taping programs.
My sister lived in Germany at the time, which was all Nena and Falco and Sprockets, completely devoid of American culture. She'd send money for blank VHS tapes and I'd fill them, six hours at a time, with what I thought every American needed to be watching in the 80s. MTV videos, Dallas, Vikings games, and sitcoms like Night Court. She'd send the tapes back after she was done with them, along with letters explaining what she did and didn't like. Then I'd try adjust my recordings to better suit my audience. It was fun, like programming my own TV station at age 12.
I've asked several people about early video stores in their neighborhood, and received mixed responses. In our neighborhood, there was a surprising number of video stores, and all of them were independently owned. It seemed like every middle-aged couple with the ability to invest a couple grand suddenly opened a video store. My favorites were All-American Video (which seemed to employ weirdos exclusively) and Late Night Video (which was open until 11pm!). In addition, however, there was a tiny shop we called "the hole in the wall" that couldn't have been much bigger than the average gas-station men's room. Another shop had a 90% Betamax collection. Stores opened and closed all the time. Every gas station in the neighborhood also had a crappy video collection -- usually bad action movies and softcore porn, the type of entertainment enjoyed by the kind of people who go to the Milk House to shop for groceries and cough syrup, and maybe a few French ticklers from the men's room vending machine.
The thing is, I can't think of a modern-day equivalent to the mom & pop video store. What trend today inspires dozens of independent businesses to crop up all over the place, with hopeful entry-level investors banking on cashing in on this newfangled craze? None. You don't exactly see iPhone accessory shops taking over the old pet store on the corner.
Ultimately, all the stores failed, except for one: Video Vision, which became a successful chain, and now features not only video, DVD and game rentals but also tanning beds and a Ticketmaster outlet. Late Night Video survived longer than all the others, but eventually became a Mr. Movies, and then closed when Hollywood Video finally moved into the neighborhood.
All video rental stores will probably tank in about five years. By then we'll all have video devices in our abdomens.

The Product Photoblog is a regularly updated, semi-autobiographical series of photos. It's not much to look at yet, but I think it will be pretty cool after it progresses a bit.
Perfect Duluth Day is a community blog I started in 2003 in partnership with Scott "Starfire" Lunt. To date, it has over 400 members, including many leaders in local arts and politics.

PDD Links is a site that aggregates (automatically collects) new updates from a cacophony of other local blogs. Frequently political and often personal, this is truly the voice of the people, in their own words.