On Sept. 15, 2008, I became a man. This transformation bore no resemblance to the traditional rite of passage ceremonies we hear about happening in ancient civilizations. In fact, I don’t even think it would make for a good “Crossroads”-esque coming-of-age film.

The process was quick, easy, and to almost every other human, incredibly mundane. On that Thursday night in 2008, I got my very own Blockbuster Membership Card.

Just two years later, in September 2010, Blockbuster declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy due to declining sales, increased losses and growing competition with other rental services like Netflix and Redbox.

Since September, the former late fee kings have closed hundreds of stores across the country. On March 1 the U.S. Department of Justice filed a claim stating that Blockbuster did have the funds to continue and that liquidation was quickly becoming their most viable option.

Then, right as the darkest hour approached, a light appeared. This incredible savior-like light force I speak of? Satellite television provider Dish Network. Dish spent more than $320 million at auction purchasing what remains of Blockbuster’s fading empire.

Why does this matter, though? My severe lack of business, math and economics skills makes writing hard business commentary a little difficult, but I can speak to how Blockbuster changed my life.

Some of my earliest memories in this life involve movies. One of my very first memories involves me sitting on the floor with my dad and watching the evil priest Mola Ram rip someone’s beating heart out of his chest in “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.”

The memory doesn’t end there. After witnessing such a horrifying act, I distinctly remember hearing the sound of the garage door opening and watching my dad scurry around the room to hide any evidence that we’d been watching a movie that my mom deemed inappropriate. As it turns out, she was right. Watching a man rip out another man’s heart is a tough pill to swallow, especially when you’re a 4-year-old.

Spending Friday nights watching movies like “Indiana Jones,” “The Great Mouse Detective” and “Star Wars” filled me with a curiosity about movies. Not just the images I saw on the screen, but also the fact that someone created that world and was given the opportunity to tell that story.

Movies quickly became one of my favorite ways to spend time, but my youth wasn’t spent rotting in front of the TV. For most of my childhood, my parents limited my TV intake to a measly half-hour per day. I was never happy about my TV limitations, but they left me to use my imagination and entertain myself.

The limitations made weekly trips to Blockbuster an event to look forward to. Wandering from aisle to aisle searching for the perfect movie to enjoy with my family became one of my favorite activities.

I would move back and forth from comedy to action and from drama to family, scanning movie covers for some kind of indication that my family would enjoy it. My eyes would dart around from Steve Guttenberg’s comforting gaze on the cover of “Three Men and a Baby” over to the bright tropical colors on the cover of “Weekend at Bernie’s 2.”

Walking down the store’s short aisles, I would grab movies, examine their boxes and stare at the backs, taking in the words, colors and images. For me, there was a physicality about walking around the store, being able to pick up the movies and decipher their quality, that cannot be replicated digitally. I can browse Netflix all day looking for a movie, but it will never be the same as walking around Blockbuster before I have made my final selection.

As time went on, I watched more movies, and it became easier for me to figure out what movies would interest my parents or brother. Wandering in Blockbuster became a sport for me. And, unlike all the other sports, I was actually good at this one.

Years passed and I grew up, but my relationship with Blockbuster remained. Blockbuster’s death is inevitable — that’s the unfortunate truth — but I’ll never forget the countless hours I spent there.

On the surface, I was there to rent movies, but Blockbuster gave me more than that. It made me love films, appreciate art and grow as an entertainer. I would trade all the late fees in the world for what they gave me.