It was a dark and stormy night… wait, I’m not entirely sure of that. It might have been a bright sunny mid-afternoon for all I know. Those details don’t really matter. What does matter was that I had fallen in love.
It was probably the late 1980’s, maybe 1990 at the most. My Papaw recorded the BBC version of C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe off of HBO onto a VHS tape for me. (Does talking about VHS officially “age me”?) That was it. I was in love. I couldn’t get enough of that thing. It would come to the end, and I’d hit the rewind button and just start it over again.