So tell me, Pac-Friends. How many of these Pac-Man items do you have? (Check the scans below to get a full description of all the items.)

Pac-Man this, Pac-Man that. It seems like they made a Pac-Man version of everything in the early 1980s. My brother’s friend had a metal Pac-Man trashcan that I was always jealous of (and to think that he wouldn’t give it to me!). Unfortunately, that item is not in the picture. My family bought a second-hand copy of the marblelicious Pac-Man board game you see on the floor there. It was pretty dumb, if I recall — nothing could compare to playing the actual video game on our Atari 800 at the time. And another of my brother’s friends had the Pac-Man Fever album, but they never let me listen to it. I still hold it against them to this day.

Anyway, check out the other full scans below and behold the power of merchandising! Warning — the full images are pretty big. Enjoy!

[ Scanned by VC&G from Popular Computing Magazine, December 1982 ]

If you use these images on your site or blog, please support “Retro Scan of the Week” by giving us obvious credit for the original scan and entry. Thanks! We really appreciate it.

I was thinking recently. This site is supposed to be a blog, right? Well, it’s not really very bloggy. I’ve been getting around that by calling VC&G a “blogazine” — that is, half-blog, half-magazine — and it works pretty well. But still, I think this place has been severely lacking in blogatude recently. I’ve become too serious, too obsessed with writing only thoroughly-researched pieces that take ages to finish. Everything I start writing turns into some kind of research paper, as if I have some compulsive need for incredibly documented detail in everything I do. That kind of obsession is something of a good habit for feature writers (as long as you can make a deadline), but a bad one for bloggers. Luckily, I’m having success in freelance work, where detail and accuracy is king. And if I want to keep getting writing jobs, I obviously want all my output to be as professional as possible. That kind of attitude leaves little room for silliness in case they catch me on a bad day. Am I being too uptight? Yes, I am. But consider this: If I wanted to interview the Pope about the first computer he ever used, and VC&G’s leading article at the time was titled “Five Ways I Wipe My Butt With Computers,” do you think he’d grant me the interview? (Hell yes, because the Pope loves that tingling feelin’ as much as anyone else. But that’s beside the point.)

Despite all the professional anxiety I just expressed (this sounds more and more like a real blog all the time, doesn’t it?), I still need to remember to have a little fun. So let’s have some. This entry marks the beginning of a new column about the current hectic happenings in my happenin’ hip-hop VC&G lifestyle. I don’t expect to be whining much (a perennial blog favorite), so bear with me. It’ll try to find a suitably compelling and dramatic replacement. And have no fear, my loyal VC&G friends: aside from this blog-like column, you can continue to expect the same professionalish blogazine standard from Vintage Computing and Gaming as usual.

But for now, it’s bloggerin’ time.

[ Continue reading Tales From the Benjside: Attack of the Blog! » ]

What’s in a name? Well, if it’s the name of a game for a Nintendo console, there’s a strong chance that part of the system’s name will make an appearance. Popular examples of this practice include the game title Super Metroid for the Super NES and Super Mario 64 for the Nintendo 64. I call this phenomenon “system-naming,” for lack of a better term.

System-naming is largely isolated to games produced for Nintendo systems due to the company’s penchant for adding “upgrade” prefixes (the “Super” in “Super NES”) or suffixes (the “64” in “Nintendo 64”) to their system titles. We’ll take a look at some instances of non-Nintendo system-naming near the end of the article.

So what does “system-naming” matter? The answer, quite simply, is nothing. Really — nothing at all. This is an exercise in pure console nerdlyness. Information for the sake of information. So if you’re easily scared away by the academic study of trivial minutia, turn away now!

Still there? Ok. Let’s take a look at each Nintendo system, tally up their system-named games, and see which system ultimately wins the battle of the names. All percentages have been rounded up to the next whole number. Sources for the data presented are listed at the end of each section.

[ Continue reading Super Game 64 Advance DS: The Nintendo Game Naming Formula Revealed! » ]

For those of you who might not know, the GCE Vectrex (1983) was a unique game system that had a built in black and white vector graphics display. Vector graphics are composed of lines drawn point-to-point on a specially-driven CRT rather than through a bit-mapped pixel graphics method on a raster scan display (like an ordinary TV set). That may be a bit too technical for you, but the least you need to know is that vector graphics are different than usual and, in the case of the Vectrex, consisted of white lines on black backgrounds only.

In order to spice up the system’s monochrome gameplay, each Vectrex game came with its own custom translucent colored overlay that snapped in place over the Vectrex’s built-in monitor. The white vector lines on the monitor underneath shone through and gave the illusion of a color display for certain parts of the screen. The one you see above is for Flipper Pinball. Notice the different regions of the play field which have different colors to add more life and variety to the game.

It should be noted that colored overlays were not a new idea to the Vectrex. Their use in video games spans back to the medium’s very genesis, from the days of Ralph Baer experimenting in his lab at Sanders, and later on the first video game system ever, the Magnavox Odyssey. Also, most early arcade games used black and white displays with colored overlays to keep production costs down, as the components needed to generate and the monitors needed to display colored graphics were expensive at the time.

Personally, I’ve never been a fan of overlays — I find them a chintzy substitute for a true color display, and instead prefer to play my Vectrex games without them. Monochrome ain’t so bad.

If you use this image on your site, please support “Retro Scan of the Week” by giving us obvious credit for the original scan and entry. Thanks.

Sure, consoles age and get dirty. Heck, I remember a suspicious incident involving my Super Nintendo (SNES) console and a can of Coca-Cola in the early ’90s that left my SNES looking more like a moldy loaf of bread than a video game system. But around five years ago, I noticed that my SNES console was aging particularly badly. I cleaned off all the remnants of fossilized Coke residue from the chassis with a wet washcloth, but the “moldy bread” look still remained. The top half of the console’s plastic body retained a uniformly nasty yellow-brown hue, while the bottom half flaunted its showroom shine — that native SNES gray that we all know and love. I soon realized that a much deeper mechanism was responsible for the aesthetic disfigurement of my beloved SNES than mere dirt and sugar.

To further complicate matters, I have another SNES unit that was obviously produced more recently than my original one, and that console shows no sign of aging whatsoever. Comparing the units and the way different parts of them had discolored led me to believe that there is something different about the two batches of plastics — the one for the top half of the SNES chassis and the one for the bottom, or the plastic for the old unit and plastic for the new — that made them age differently over time.

Immediately below are two photos I took of my actual SNES units. Notice the difference between the colors of the top and bottom halves of the plastic chassis on the older unit, and also how the newer unit shows no sign of discoloration at all.

My first SNES console (right) exhibits discoloration on the top half only.
The newer unit on the left, however, looks as good as new.

The top half and bottom half of my first SNES console, disassembled.
Notice that the underside is yellowed with the same uniformity as the top.

[ Continue reading Why Super Nintendos Lose Their Color: Plastic Discoloration in Classic Machines » ]

In Part I of “Inside a Hamfest: An Annotated Slideshow,” I gave you an introduction to hamfests. In Part II, I told you about guys who try to sell utterly useless crap for too much money, but I also found some choice non-crap to purchase for very little money. We also met a Simpsons-like supernerd with a passion for redheads (himself) and video games. Below, in the concluding part of the series, we pick up exactly where we left off in Part II.

[ Continue reading Inside a Hamfest: An Annotated Slideshow, Part III » ]

In Part I of “Inside a Hamfest: An Annotated Slideshow,” I went through an introduction about amateur radio enthusiasts (hams), hamfests in general, and a bit about hams’ hacker-like ethos. Then, during the slideshow, I arrived at the hamfest, surveyed the scene, and made at least one major find. Below, in Part II of the series, we pick up exactly where we left off in Part I.

[ Continue reading Inside a Hamfest: An Annotated Slideshow, Part II » ]

Those of you who have been reading VC&G for some time have probably encountered the occasional mention of “hamfests” in accounts of my collecting adventures. Contrary to what you might think, hamfests have little to do with pork (we here in NC call that a pig pickin’), but a lot to do with amateur radio. For almost a century, amateur radio operators have been called “hams.” The exact origin of this term is lost to history; there literally dozens of stories that speculate on the reasons behind its genesis. So if you take “ham” and combine it with “fest,” as in festival, then you get “hamfest,” which is, essentially, a flea market or swap meet for items that hams find interesting.

Hams were the first electronics hackers, having to make do with whatever parts they could find to build their own rigs long before commercial products for their hobby were available. So when the first personal computers came along — usually in kit form or requiring lots of work on the user’s part to get them running — it was a perfectly logical extension to their hobby. Thanks to their experience with amateur radio, the tinkering required for properly utilizing early, primitive home computers was like second nature to them. In no time, amateur radio enthusiasts had adapted personal computers for tasks like encoding and decoding typed text into CW (Morse code), or using them for RTTY or packet radio communications. Their hacker ethos extended through the decades all the way to the present, naturally making hams interested in all manner of technical devices and knick-knacks, and making hamfests a great place to find such items.

Thanks to my father’s long-standing interest (and profession) in both electronics and amateur radio, I have been attending hamfests since I was a child. The local hamfest that I have frequented most, and that you are about to witness, is an annual event run by the Raleigh Amateur Radio Society (RARS), and is thus properly known as “RARSFest.” This particular RARSFest occurred on April 23rd, 2006, and due to reasons such as getting married and moving shortly afterward, I haven’t had the time to show you these pictures until now. So here we go…

[ Continue reading Inside a Hamfest: An Annotated Slideshow, Part I » ]