My father has these old videos of me, taken when I was in the fifth and sixth grades. So embarrassing. I hate watching old videos of myself. At least, with merely recordings, there’s some chance of saying “Umm, no, that’s not me, nope, no way”, especially since my voice sounds very different on record.
But with videos? There’s never any denying that that wild-haired, oddly-dressed shrimp doing the weird crap that prompted my dad to take the video in the first place is, in fact, me. Oh, I’m sure I thought it was cool and swag and awesome at the time, but after as little as a year, the only true adjective I can use to describe those videos is: cringe-worthy. ‘Embarrassing’ is far too mild a term.
I was a wild kid; according to certain people, I’m no different now. I beg to differ; but the point is, I was sometimes very taken with a certain dance step, or mannerism, or phrase, or behavioural pattern that seemed to be the coolest thing since sliced bread. You see, I was at that stage when to be ‘cool’ and to be recognised as such was the be-all and end-all of my life. Like Shah Rukh Khan and his ‘C-Gang’ (‘Cool Gang, folks, and it was only in school!). So I was often caught on camera- sometimes most willingly- doing things that now make me want to fling the offending recording into the depths of Mount Doom and thereby unmake it.
(No, nothing like that, don’t be sick. Mind out of the gutter, if you please)
So, to conclude, do not follow me around with a recorder.