We were both raised by the KingOfTheSuper8Movie. Our childhood holidays and birthdays are heavily documented on shaky, silent film. We watched those things over and over again, begging our dad to run them backwards in certain places so we could watch Tim fly backwards onto the picnic table in our backyard in his Superman cape/towel-pinned-to-his-favorite-striped-shirt. And who didn't enjoy a repeat performance of the neighbor kids at Tim's birthday table, the wooden spoonfuls of orange and vanilla swirl ice cream coming back out of their mouths, forming a perfectly full, untouched Dixie cup?
So, no Tim, the viewers will probably not buy your no-camera excuse. And yes, you are right, I might have lied about that Bobby Sherman record being yours. (Because as you did indeed point out, had that record, or the Osmond Brothers record, actually been yours, you would never have let me escape with it. Some sort of alarm would have sounded.)
Tim has kind of agreed to appear with me on The Backstory, but since he lives three thousand miles away, I am going to have to bring in some sort of proxy. (Please leave any ideas in the comments below...) I was thinking along the lines of a tabloid personality, but I can't quite come up with the right person...
Talking about the old Super 8 movies has gotten me a bit nostalgic. I loved that sad/happy feeling I got when Dad fired up the old projector and miraculously there was Grandma's old living room come to life on our wall, complete with lace doilies on the overstuffed armchair and the velour couch where we used to hide the carrot sticks she tried to make us eat. Then around the corner came Grandma, herself, carrying a bowl of homemade Chex Mix and looking better than ever in her big clip-on pearl earrings and matching necklace. I could almost smell her old silver percolator in the kitchen. What I wouldn't give to sit down at that holiday table again!
Forget digital; where can I get myself a good old Super 8?