“I always wanted to be the king of something,” says Chuck Legg. “I would have been the king of Lionel trains, but I didn’t have enough money. I was too late in life, and the stuff was gone. I came to the conclusion, ‘You know, hey, I could be the king of LaserDiscs.’”
And so much as anyone in America can be the king of anything, Chuck Legg is the king of LaserDiscs. In his suburban Tigard home, cardboard boxes full of them cover every horizontal surface that can bear the weight. They’re in the foyer and the hallways and on the stairs. There are boxes of LaserDiscs on the washer and dryer in the small laundry room, which leads to the big, two-car garage where the heart of his collection resides. Unremarkable from the outside, its interior is a maze of floor-to-ceiling shelves, each overflowing with discs organized by theme, franchise, or whim.
“I would say we’re at 15,000 discs in stock,” Legg estimates, referring to his business, Discount LaserDisc. Serving as “your online source for LaserDiscs,” the ancient-looking website has been operated by Legg for more than 20 years.
A dozen copies of GoodFellas lean against an equal number of Gone with the Wind. Star Trek box sets sit in a corner, tiny Shatners and Nimoys peeking from the gloom. Director’s cuts, music video compilations, and quasi-interactive murder mysteries crowd each other in tightly packed rows. Legg gestures to a shelf of 30 identical black spines.
“Dances with Wolves,” he says, exasperation in his voice.