How do you know if you have a video game collecting problem? How about this: when you can’t even walk on your own floor because every square inch is covered with games. Talk about painting yourself in a corner…with video games. And my fiance thought I had a problem. The next time your wife complains about your collection, show her these pictures.

All kidding aside, this is looks like an important library of video games. I wonder: if this room were discovered like some long-lost vault or tomb in the year 120,402 A.D. by our descendants after World War 15, what would they think of us?

Update: Read an interview with the owner of this collection and see more photos here.

I have a box of about eight musty, “doorstop quality” Commodore 64’s (C64) and VIC-20’s sitting up in my attic. They came from a local hamfest a few years ago. It was getting late in the show that day and the vendors were tired and wanted to go home. At the end of any hamfest, vendors have tons of near-worthless, unsold, bulky junk that they’d usually rather throw away than drag back to their car. I have been stuck in a situation at least four or five times where I was interested in buying one item, but would only be allowed to purchase the item if I agreed to haul off all kinds of other crap for the seller. In this case, I just wanted to buy a single box of C64 disks that I noticed sitting on a table, but the guy would only sell it to me if I agreed to take six C64s, five Vic-20s, a few disk drives, lots more accessories and carts, and…well, there wasn’t just one box of disks, after all, but more like ten. It was like some Vaudeville routine: as soon as I thought the seller had pulled the last box of Commodore-spew from under the table and turned to leave, he’d say “oh wait!” and pull out another one. At this point my father, who was saddled with the unenviable task of helping me carry all these musty artifacts to our car, had a severe grimace on his face. That day I inherited some guy’s entire Commodore collection for $10, including his massive anthology of pirated C64 game disks (complete with a thick three-ring-bound index to the disks!), and I think my dad inherited some permanent “Commodore grimace” lines in his forehead.

I climbed up into my fiberglass dust-ridden attic the other day, looking for an ideal donor of a 6510 processor to add to my CPU collection. Temptingly, in my Commodore box there was a C64 already apart and in pretty bad shape — an ideal sacrificial Commie to dissect. Upon bringing it down and looking inside the case, I found something pretty amusing: some guy — presumably the previous owner — was fiddling with the power connector in the unit and somehow broke the ground contact and corresponding pin off the connector. It looks to me like he was in the middle of laboring to remove the connector when he was abruptly struck with Sudden Onset Lack-Of-Patience Disorder (or SOLOPD, a common affliction amongst electronics tinkerers). Soon after, his strategy for connector removal became “rip it off any way you can.” Unsurprisingly, he broke his machine in the process. Through the magic of literary time travel, we can infer what obviously happened afterwards as he attempted a repair:

There he was, cradling the lifeless body of a broken C64 in his arms, crying and cursing himself for his impatience and uneven temperament. He broke down on his knees and swore to the heavens to never harm another 64 again if only the Commodore Gods would ease his suffering and forgive him for his mistake. But alas — his cries of desperation fell only on deaf ears (the 22 year-old family cat). And like any man whose most desperate call goes unheard, something turned inside him. For a brief moment, all that was dark and cruel welled up within him, twisting his soul in queer ways as a streak of fiery evil flashed over his hollow eyes. He raised his arms, clutching the helpless computer over his head, and nearly bashed the faulty unit into the darkest form of oblivion. But at the last moment, something stopped him: a key from the unit fell to the floor beneath him. It was the “plus” key — the very first key he pressed on the greatest day of his life. Vivid images of his 15th birthday flooded his head, filling him with a deep sense of regret over what he almost did. It was on that day that he received the very machine he was clutching from his late grandfather. How could he forsake old Roy — always happy, smiling, and helpful — and the desire for a better life that he handed down to his only grandson in the form of a $300 personal computer? It was then that the man decided that he should spare the machine; he would fix it. But how would he achieve such an impossible task? He didn’t have any spare C64 power connectors, and, after all, replacing the connector required removing the old one — the very problem that got him into this mess to begin with! Frantically searching for a solution, he scratched through his junk box until his fingers nearly bled. In the dustiest, farthest back corner of his tattered box, he found it: a nail. Yes! He thought back to his summer job as a carpenter with his grandfather’s construction business — lesson number one in his carpentry training taught him that a common picture frame-hanging wall nail, when used properly, was the perfect solution to any troubling situation. He quickly put his MacGyver-like improvisation skills to work, firing up his soldering iron to melt the broken connector’s mangled plastic and fuse the nail in place. After an intense four-hour operation with many close-calls and stressful moments, he was finished. He plugged the proper power supply into the machine and, with great tension, flipped it on. Tears of joy streamed from his reddened, tired eyes as he saw the bright, vibrant power LED light up. “If only Papa Roy were here to see this,” he thought, as he ran his hand across the smooth back of his favorite machine. “May this heavy light that shines upon me forever serve as a beacon, steering and guiding me through the foggiest, darkest, and stormiest nights of my life.” The ordeal was finally over, and he knew he would never be the same man again.

Yes, he used a nail to act as a ground contact, bridging the outer ground ring of the C64’s DIN power connector and the RF shielding of the cartridge port. Does it really work? I don’t know; I don’t care to try. Personal revelations for the man aside, this has to be the messiest improvised hack I’ve ever seen in my life. At least we got a good story out of it.

Hacks like these should make us all stop and think more deeply about ourselves.

I woke up groggy and cranky this morning, thinking about all the trouble I had setting up Windows 95 on one of my machines last night. The main problem with Windows 95 is that it’s just not cool. No matter how you slice it, it reeks of squareness. “What I really need,” I thought, “is a totally cool way to run my computer.” But after some hard thinking I realized that such a computing product doesn’t exist. I sat down for breakfast, resigned to the fact that I would be stuck with Windows 95 forever. I didn’t get five minutes into a bagel when the doorbell rung. It was David, my friendly neighborhood postman with a package for me. “What ever could be inside?” I wondered, as I tore into the box with excited impatience. I pushed aside the layers of bubble wrap to reveal…

“Oh boy.” I thought with disappointment, “Another archaic copy of OS/2 for my collection. Whee.” I was about to set the box down on a shelf and forget about it when my eyes meandered over to the upper left corner of the box cover. “Whoa! What’s this…?”

“Holy mother of goat cheese!” I screamed, nearly dropping the box from my hands. It was as if IBM had been looking into the future and totally reading my mind all those years ago when they released OS/2 Warp, the apparent mother of all operating systems. I flipped the box over onto its back to read more: “The new 32-bit, multitasking, multimedia, Internet-accessed, crash-protected, Windows friendly, totally cool way to run your computer.” Now that was what I needed to hear. No more Windows 95 crap for me. I rushed to install the system on my machine and experienced the pure operational bliss that is OS/2 Warp Version 3. It was a Christmas Miracle.

Here are a few more entertaining and interesting validation messages from my archive. For an explanation of what a validation message is, check out the first entry in this series. By the way, check out my new Synchronet Cave BBS at cavebbs.homeip.net port 23.

Subject: log o0n
Name: Kerry Straughn #532 @2
Date: Tue Oct 07 17:03:36 1997
RE: Validation Feedback

Hi, heard about you from the Sanitarium. Pittsboro just got local service to the Apex,Raleigh and Cary areas. Know any other good bbses to try?

[about six blank spaces]

I had this same problem at the Sanitarium. A backslash in the direction of your help screen brings up my com program directory. I don’t know how to get out of this screen or if this message will save when I hang up. That’s the only way I can get out of here.

HELP ME PLEASE !!

I remember getting stuck in similar situations on other online services before. Especially when telnetting into Compuserve, where I had to manually hit Ctrl-J just to get a new line.

You know, not everybody who called my BBS was silly, bad at spelling/grammar or technologically inept. I’d post some nicely written messages, but they’d be pretty boring.

Subject: hmm…
Name: Tom Violins #380
Date: Sun Nov 17 19:07:04 1996
RE: Validation Feedback

changes changes… it’s been a LOOONG while since i’ve called here. let’s see you might not remember me… i was uhm Mr Self Destruct, Bad Acid, uhm Liquid Jesus… anyway, it’s been a while.. access would be appreciated (and appropriate) just kidding. well, no, it would be appreciated..

anyway, uhm hope things are going cool… just stay away from dat crack, man!

tom violins

Reading other people’s colorful and interesting BBS aliases was a large part of the fun of BBSing. Ah. The good ‘ole days.

Ah, the entertainment never stops. For an explanation of what a validation message is, check out the first entry in this series.

No, I didn’t make any of these up.

Subject: Hey
Name: Unicorn #205 @1
Date: Wed Feb 07 14:09:56 1996
RE: Validation Feedback

Dear Red Wolf,
Hey, ummm…… I don’t know what to write. I am a little shy as you might see. Ummm….. I am 12 and in the 7th grade. I have long brown hair that turns reddish in the sun. I have bright green eyes and a normal face I guess. Ummmm………… My friend Glen told me about this thing and it nearly took me forever to get on. The line was always busy and I wasn’t about to try again, but FINALLY I got on!! Ummmm…… I am bored. That’s why I decided to try this. I did use DNA but it got deleted or something. So, I am glad this BBs came. K-bye.

–Unicorn

Unicorn, I’m glad the BBS came too.

Here’s another one for the road:

Subject: MY NAME IS BILLY…I AM HERE TO TALK TO THE SYSOP…SOMEONE
Name: Crash Override #278 @1
Tue May 14 16:20:40 1996
RE: Validation Feedback

MY NAME IS BILLY…I AM HERE TO TALK TO THE SYSOP…SOMEONE NAMED BEN RAMBLE SAID YOU MAY BE INTO KARDING….THAT BEING USING OTHERS CREDIT ARDS TO GET STUFF FOR YOURSELF…IF U ARE I NEED TO KNOW….I NEED A LAPTOP BAD AND I NEED IT BEFORE THE END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR…I WANNA HOOK IT UP TO THE FONE BOOTH AT SCHOOL AND GET THE SCHOOL INTROUBLE FOR HACKING INTOT EH FBI….IF U CAN GET THIS FOR ME PLEASE TELL E…I NEED IT TO COME LOADED….I NEED IT TO THAVE THE FASTEST MODEM YOU CAN FIND…I DONT HAVE ANY MONEY BUT IF I CAN GET THIS I WILL DO ALL THE HACKING YOU TELL ME TO DO AND I WILL DO ABSOLUTELY ANYRTHING FOR U
.

No, I wasn’t into KARDING. An interesting note: the Ben Ramble mentioned in his message was a guy I went to school with at the time. He didn’t know I was actually Red Wolf, for reasons that this entry explains.

Stay tuned for another exciting episode next week — same Vintage Computing time, same Vintage Computing channel!

Here we go again! For an explanation of what a validation message is, check out last week’s episode.

No, I didn’t make any of these up.

Subject: hello.
Name: Milamber #141 @1
Date: Mon Nov 06 20:58:55 1995
RE: Validation Feedback

Hello I am MILAMBER brother of SATURNIA. I bear the tourch of the lines now. I have inherited the golden crappy computer and I plan to use it for EVIL!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

A subtle approach. I like it.

And here’s the stunning continuation of the MAD MAX saga from last week:

Subject: RED WOLF READ THIS!
Name: Mad Max #115
Date: Wed Apr 05 15:53:11 1995
RE: Tried Chatting.

Red Wolf,MAD MAX here.Are you ready to talk buisness?If you are this is how it works.When I am in “COMMAND”,I will still use “your” BBS number,except I take over!If you want,you can be my second in command if you like.That is all for now.One more thing,give me some E-mail.

Sinerely,
(your future leader)
MAD MAX
/
s

“/s” was the command used on a new line to end the message. Many people often messed it up on their first typing attempt but were too lazy to fix it, as in the example above.

Stay tuned for another exciting episode next week — same Bat Time, same Bat Channel!

I was just looking through my collection of old computer images today when I noticed this one. Someone is apparently tossing an $800 Epson HX-20 computer (incidentally the world’s first “laptop”) toward this creepy disembodied hand. Or perhaps the HX-20 had flying capabilities that I wasn’t aware of. Either way, it’s pretty weird. What will people in 1981 think of next?

For more info on the Epson HX-20, check out this cool page. And if you want some original documentation on this early portable, check out Epson’s own product support site for the HX-20!

If you read my introduction or the “About the Author” page on this site, you’ll know that I ran a BBS from 1992 to 1998. It was a one line, 24-hour WWIV BBS called “The Cave BBS.” Anyway, back in the BBS days there was a common convention known as submitting a validation message. This was a personal statement sent to the SysOp (short for System Operator, the person who ran the BBS) that essentially begged and brown-nosed for full access to the system (especially for the file section), sent immediately after registering on the BBS. The new user was taken directly into a message editing screen and forced to send the message. If he or she aborted the message, then the BBS would usually hang up on them. What follows is an example of such a message, sent to me, RedWolf, long ago.

Subject: UMMM
Name: Ceaser #298 @1
Date: Tue Jun 25 19:22:14 1996
RE: Validation Feedback

I am Jonathan A. Matthews and I am a cool person. You just have to meet me. I will spread the word of this BBS because I don’t want to be the only one on here.
-JAM-

Ok, so that was a little thin, but I enjoyed it. I like how he spelled Caesar. I suppose I’ll give you a little bonus, one of the many silly threats that came in on a monthly basis:

Subject: RED WOLF READ THIS NOW!
Name: Mad Max #115
Date: Tue Apr 04 19:31:49 1995
RE: Validation Feedback

RED WOLF,SOON AS YOU GET A CHANCE,GIVE ME SOME MAIL SO WE CAN TALK ABOUT ME TAKING OVER THE CAVE!ALL YOU ARE IS A PUNK!YOU MIGHT THINK I’M CRAZY BUT I AM
MAD MAX!!!!!

Oh no! Will MAD MAX succeed in taking over the BBS? I guess you’ll just have to tune in again next week for another exciting episode of Vintage BBS Validation Messages!

Computer hard disks weren’t always as reliable as they are now. From 1992 up until about five years ago, it seemed that I had a drive crash on me at least once every two years (Hmm.. they ceased right about the time I stopped buying OEM Western Digital drives from a questionable source). A total drive meltdown was always a terrible event, but it was still no where near as catastrophic as it would be now. You see, back then, the data on my computer was usually just stuff I had downloaded from BBSes or the Internet, maybe some text and Word files, and a few games. But these days, people keep their entire lives on their computers, including home movies, digital family snapshots, personal correspondence (in the form of emails), and gigantic music collections. Not to mention that more original creative work than ever is being done on computers these days — musicians record directly to them, photographers process their pictures on them, illustrators draw and paint with them, and writers write with them. This creative data is unique and irreplaceable — you can’t just download it again if you lose it, making a data backup plan absolutely essential for the modern computer user. Of course, I’m sure most people don’t back up their stuff, and computer users everywhere lose valuable data on a daily basis. Considering the importance of the personal data on PCs these days, I find it absurd that computer manufacturers don’t include some sort of redundant disk protection by default in every PC sold (or at least the build-to-order option). As RAID controllers get more economical thanks to the widespread adoption of the Serial ATA standard, such a scenario will become more realistic. I’m going to go out on a limb and predict that in five years, redundant data protection of some kind will be a standard feature on all consumer PCs. From now on (starting with my last two computers), I’ll never build another computer again without at least RAID level 1 (data mirroring) protection. I also do daily backups to an external hard drive on my three main computers for an extra level of safety.

But my backup regimen isn’t really what I want to talk about today. No, it was my complete lack of one that we’ll focus on for the moment. Back when I lost my hard drives, I usually lost most or all the files on them as well. This functioned as sort of a “natural reset” (a big crunch, if you will) that set me back and forced me to clean up and start over. But once those natural resets stopped happening, things started building up. Data clutter reared its ugly head, and now data management and organization of all my files, including thousands upon thousands of legacy files, has gained incredible importance. Of course, it takes a lot of time to organize this data, but once you have it sorted out, it’s settled! Or is it? You still have to keep organizing every file you create, or else you will have a big mess on your hands, which I suspect is quite common among computer users. With larger capacity hard drives becoming ever cheaper for the foreseeable future, there will never be any need for the data pack rat to throw anything away. And with no natural resets, there will be no force making them throw anything away. At what point do I say enough is enough and trash MS Works files of 6th grade school papers? I just can’t bring myself to do it. At what point do I trash my collection of thousands of low-resolution, low-color images of old computers I downloaded off the web in 1996? I can’t bring myself to do it. I still have copies of DOS programs sitting around that I used in 1992. I have all my primitive MS Paintbrush computer artwork done in the mid-90s. I have archived HTML web pages that interested me in 1997. I have…lots of stuff. I’m swimming in it, and now with every new computer I buy, it’s hard to keep straight which file is where on my constellation of networked machines (which, I might add, keep my house quite toasty in the winter…whether I like it or not). I suppose I should centralize the data the best I can into a single, hyper-backed-up file server. I already have a similar server for most of my old files, but they aren’t actively backed up at the moment, and it adds extra cost to set that up. Either way, until I commit the money to it or — God forbid — “nature” takes its course and thrashes one of my drives, I’ll still be swimming in a digital sea of dusty — but priceless — data.