You know what I mean, and don't pretend you don't.
The feeling of your English or Science or History teacher rolling this out unexpectedly before class was the closest feeling to boning that your never-boned-anyone-before soul could possibly have imagined!
You couldn't have known then, as you do now, that your teacher just needed to phone it in on those days, because your collective antics were just too damn much and he or she needed a break from your bullshit. You didn't realize that this cart might as well have said the words "I can't deal with you assholes today" out loud.
And you didn't care what it was you would be watching either. It would probably be a punishing black and white version of the incomprehensible Shakespeare play you'd spent all semester reading, starring Lawrence Olivier or some shit. Maybe it was some health class infomercial about how not to get AIDS or drive drunk.
Who fucking cared? Answer: not you!
All you knew was it was a screen, in a time when screens were not nearly as ubiquitous and accessible as they are now; and that instead of taking notes, you'd be passing them in a dimly-lit classroom, relatively undetected by an adult whose usual job it was to make you pay attention.
Yup. That VCR/TV cart was your fucking EVERYTHING. If only life were still that simple. The adult equivalent of this is now a power outage at work where all the computers go down and no one can do anything for a few hours. And I have to say, it just ain't the same.