flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

Last Friday another Nasty Pirates night went off without a hitch. Due to Halloween conflicts we pushed our monthly gathering back a couple of weeks, which worked better for everybody. All five pirates (Jeff, Scott, Andy, Josh and myself) were able to make it last Friday, which meant good times. Depending on schedules, this might end up being the last gathering of the year. Thanksgiving will definitely throw off our normal “last Friday of the month” for November, and December gets real full, real fast. The last Friday of the month works great the first nine months of the year, but not so much as we enter the holiday season.

My plan this month was to entertain the pirates with some old school Atari 2600 action. Unfortunately the power supply on my Atari 2600 seems to have died, so I pulled my Atari Flashback 2 out of the closet and hooked it up. The Atari Flashback 2 looks like a smaller version of the Atari 2600 and contains 20 games built-in. It even has updated versions of the original Atari controllers! Believe it or not, I bought my Flashback at the Dallas vgXpo in 2005 and had never even opened the box, so I decided this was as good a time as any to open it! After opening the box and hooking everything up, I discovered the system is dead. I’m guessing after four years it’s too late to take it back!

As a quick alternative, I drug out (and by “out” I mean “across the room”) my Commodore 64 and hooked it up to the flat panel television. After killing an hour or so watching goofy Youtube videos, we fired up the C64 and the gaming competition began! I don’t remember everything we played, but I know there was some intense River Raid, Mario Bros., Joust, Up N’ Down, B.C.’s Quest for Tires, Way of the Exploding Fist, and Yie-Ar Kung Fu action going on. At one point in the night we noticed that both of my joysticks were having issues, so I ran downstairs and pulled out two brand new ones, still in the box — hey, this packrat thing is starting to pay off!

Next month I may try and put together an actual tournament of sorts with different games and prizes. I’ve had the idea in the back of my head for a while, but just haven’t had the time to put it together yet.

Anyway, another good night was had by all!

flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

My other hobby, retrogaming, also suffers from failing media.

First, you’ve got old cartridges. Atari 2600 is as far back as I go, and I would group Atari 2600, 5200, Intellivision, Colecovision, and all the other classic systems together. Other than Intellivision carts which seem to have a higher failure rate than the others, it’s pretty rare that I find one of these that either doesn’t work or can’t be coaxed back into working with a bit of cleaning. For Atari 2600 games, I’d guess my success rate is near 99%. For Intellivision it’s much lower, but since most of my Intellivision games came from the same seller, maybe that person had a large collection of non-working games. Hard to tell.

Next up are Nintendo (NES) cartridges. The problem with the NES wasn’t the games as much as it was the connecting pins inside the console itself. There are a lot of myths and legends behind the act of blowing on your cartridges like a harmonica (which pretty much everyone did at one point in time) before inserting them into the NES. Everyone agrees that this helped, although many disagree why. While as kids we thought we were “blowing the dust out of the carts,” what it appears we were doing was actually improving the poor connection between the cartridge and the systems connector by covering the contacts with a layer of spit. Like earlier carts, I’ve seen a pretty high survival rate of NES carts; the systems, however, typically need repairing (see replacing the NES 72 pin connector). There are other NES (top loading) systems and newer 3rd party clones that don’t have this problem and as all my gaming friends know you could write a hundred pages about the issue.

All newer cartridge-based games, from the Super Nintendo and the Sega Genesis to the Nintendo 64 all have extremely high survival rates — 99%+, in my experience. At one point I had almost 500 Sega Genesis games and I think I had two that didn’t work. In my opinion you have to work pretty hard at breaking one of these things, like storing them underwater, outside, in a toilet, etc.

That leaves us with CD and DVD-based media which, again, as long as they are treated properly seem to have a really good success rate. Like the NES, the actual consoles seem to have more problems than the media. The original PlayStation had some wonky laser issues and certain Xbox 360s have a propensity to scratch people’s discs, but unscratched disc-based games seem to be holding out just fine.

As many of you already know, I also collect arcade games — those big, giant, almost archaic behemoths. There are so many things that go wrong with these machines over time that you could write a book about it (oh wait I did), but here’s just a few things I see. Arcade monitors use paper capacitors; they’re located in the worst possible place (heat rises …) and as a result, most of these capacitors are brittle and/or just worn out. Lots of old machines also contained batteries for various reasons; those are all suspect at this point. The actual electronics depend on the machine itself, but there are plenty of parts still available for repairs. Most of the moving parts (joysticks, buttons, coin mechs, etc) can be fixed or replaced. Arcade games don’t really fall under “media” but since I was talking about games I thought I’d throw it in.

flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

When you deal with as much old crap (especially computers) as I do, you start to get a feel for “how long things last.” Some things last longer than you would think. Other things don’t last as long as you would think. For that matter I guess some things last exactly as long as you would think. Wow, those last three sentences were pointless, weren’t they? How about some examples?

The oldest media I deal with on a regular basis are 5 1/4″ floppy disks — you remember, the old, square diskettes that were, well, floppy? I have over a thousand Commodore 64 floppies that I’ve either manually transferred over to D64 disk images or have needed to access for one reason or another. For several years my own disks weren’t stored lovingly like they should have been; they spent time (years) in garages and attics, packed away and forgotten about. I’ve also picked up bundles of disks from garage sales and thrift stores, mostly just to look through them for curiosity’s sake (God knows how those were stored over the years). Surprisingly, old 5 1/4″ disks have an amazing survival rate — 90%-95%, I’d guess. I’m constantly surprised that these things still work, but they do. The back of most floppy disk jacket sleeves contained a list of don’t that warned about temperature, magnets, bending, folding, improper handling, getting them wet, holding them the wrong way, using them on a Thursday, etc. — and yet despite my best efforts to destroy them, most of these things still work.

In fact, for the most part I have a better success rate with reading 5 1/4″ disks than with the more recent 3 1/2″ disks. 3 1/2″ disks were an improvement over 5 1/4″ in almost every department: they were smaller, they had a sliding metal trap door covering the media’s film beneath (unlike 5 1/4″ disks, which had the film exposed), they held more data, and their hard plastic shell offered — in theory — protection. Despite the fact that most of my old 3 1/2″ disks were stored in similar places as my old 5 1/4″ disks (garages, mostly), I’d say the survival rate of my old 3 1/2″ disks is closer to 75%, maybe less. Last year I made one last pass through my old disk boxes, burning copies of everything to CD/DVD before tossing out the old diskettes, and I was shocked at how many disks simply no longer worked. Fortunately most of what I lost were old games that are easily re-acquired via the Internet, but still the failure rate of diskettes just a few years old was both surprising and alarming.

Then we come to CD-Rs and DVD-Rs, which last somewhere between ten-thousand years and ten minutes, depending on who you ask. I kid, but the lifespan of burned discs is still debated. What experts will tell you is that no one knows for sure how long they will really last, and how long they’ll last is probably related to the brands you buy. I can vouch for that. In 1995 (before you), I burned three CD-Rs of software. All three of those discs are now unreadable. The gold layer simply flaked off, taking the data with it. I’m not saying that all CD-Rs will only last fifteen years; I’m only saying, those did. (I suspect as time went on, CD-Rs were made from better materials). As far as DVD-Rs go, I’ve seen the same. I have several disks 5-7 years old that no longer work, and lots more that do. It’s hard to put a failure rate on them because again I suspect different manufacturers, drive models and burning software all may contribute to different failure rates, but in general I don’t think these things will last forever.

Then you’ve got hard drives. Hard drives that get used at least once every six months seem to last a long time. Old hard drives that I stored away years ago and were marked “Working” suddenly no longer work. I had a lot of old hard drives — like, maybe a hundred or so — and for the most part I found that the ones measured in gigabytes usually (usually) worked while the ones measured in megabytes didn’t. Your mileage will vary, of course. I found several 10, 20 and 30 gig drives that still worked. I found very few of my old 200, 300 and 500 meg drives did.

It’s been years since I viewed a VCR tape or listened to an audio cassette for anything other than digitizing them, but for what it’s worth, those things seem to last forever. The only audio tapes I found with issues were the ones I’d stored on my dash, years ago. I read once that VCR tapes have a shelf life of about ten years; I had no problem archiving home movies from 30 years ago. Shrug. The only real problem I had with either of them was occasionally the tapes would snap when my over zealous VCR would rewind them, an annoying but not insurmountable issue.

The final category, and the incident that spawned the idea for this post, is audio CDs — not CDs I’ve burned, but CDs I’ve bought. I’m still working my way through ripping all of my CDs to MP3s, and over the past few days I’ve found several that my computer simply won’t read. None of them are scratched — in fact, the number of CDs that to the naked eye look like I may have stored them between pieces of sand paper is alarmingly high, and my computer had no problem reading them at all. And yet just this week I’ve had five that my computer won’t read at all. Almost all of them I can live without (Big Head Todd and the Monsters? When did I buy that?) but it’s still interesting. I need to try them on another machine and see if I have better luck elsewhere. To the naked eye they look fine but for whatever reason, the drive rejects them. Maybe the drive just doesn’t like Big Head Todd.

flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

In honor of yesterday’s departure of a few monitors, here are a few other monitor memories.

The first color computer monitor my family ever owned was an Amdek, which was actually the third computer monitor we ever owned. Our first was the TRS-80 Model III’s internal black and white monitor; our second was an amber-tinted one for our Apple clone. Amdek monitors last forever and come with a built-in handle which makes toting them around a breeze. When my Dad graduated from the Apple II to the PC XT, I inherited the Amdek monitor and used it with my Commodore 64 from 1985 to today. Yes — I still have the monitor, and it still works great. Here is a picture of the monitor from 1985 in use at my parents’ computer store, Yukon Software. It’s the one on the right, running the Apple II version of Little Computer People.

The first monitor I paid for with my own money was a Link brand VGA monitor, back in 1993. It was a 14″ monitor and I believe I paid around $199 for it.

When I set my BBS up, I needed a second monitor and so I went to a computer swap meet and picked up a cheap, used monitor for $50. When I got the monitor home I discovered that the blue and green guns were broken and the only color that worked was red. Since the monitor looked like hell I eventually painted flames on it. I later found out that the problem was not in the monitor but with the cord; after replacing it, it works fine. I bought this monitor in 1994 and it is sitting out on a shelf in my garage right now.

Back in the day, KVM systems (devices that let you share Keyboards, Video (monitors) and Mice between multiple machines) were super expensive, some of them costing more than $1,000! If you had the space, it was much more affordable to buy multiple keyboards and mice than it was to buy a KVM. By the time I shut down my BBS, I had five machines set up in my computer room, each with their own keyboards, mice and monitors. It was a mess, and while I didn’t run all of them all of the time, when I did have them all turned on my computer room shot up a good ten degrees.

Things have come a long way over the years. My current monitor is a 28″ flat screen that both cost less and weighs less than the 13″ Amdek monitor I have connected to my Commodore 64 upstairs.

flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

I am, quite possibly, the world’s worst when it comes to buying things in hopes of reselling them — “flipping”, as it’s known. The concept is simple enough (”buy low, sell high”), but every time I try it I either (A) buy high and sell low, or (B) buy low and get stuck with it.

There was the time I bought 300 computer keyboards (in my defense, kind of by accident) and tried to resell them. Most of those ended up in the trash. There was the time I bought four jukeboxes, hoping to sell three to cover the price of the fourth. In transit, three of the four broke and I was never able to fix them. I lost about a grand on that deal. There was the time I bought twenty trash cans at an auction. Anyone want to buy a trash can?

Then there was the time I bought six computer monitors.

Before we all had LCD flat panel monitors, we had CRT monitors; remember those? In the early days of computing, 12″ and 13″ monitors were common. In the early 90s, 14″ monitors became the standard, followed by 15″, 17″, 19″, and finally 21″ . screens. A 21″ CRT monitor is a beast of a monitor, usually deeper than it is wide and heavier than the computer it’s connected to. As flat panel monitors began growing in popularity (and dropping in price), companies began exchanging their old CRT monitors for newer technology.

At an auction back in 2002 I think (I gotta learn to stay away from those things …), I discovered a company doing just that. At that time I had a 17″ monitor at home and was looking to upgrade, and I knew a lot of other people who wouldn’t have minded owning a giant monitor as well. I want to say that around that time, new 21″ monitors were selling for around $400, so I was shocked to see these monitors selling for less than $100.

I immediately pulled out my cell phone and began calling people, asking them if they were interested in a 21″ for $100. I got enough “yeses” to convince me to buy six monitors. I paid $75 per monitor ($450) and planned on reselling 5 of them for $100 each ($500), leaving me with a free 21″ monitor and $50 for my trouble.

That was the plan, anyway. What could possibly go wrong?

For starters, 21″ CRT monitors are bigger than they look from across the room at an auction. These monitors were 20″ wide, 20″ tall, and almost 24″ deep. That’s basically a two-foot cube sitting on your desk. They’re also heavy — like, really heavy. I don’t know if computer monitors have cement in them or something, but these monitors seemed to be much heavier than a television of the same size. I lugged mine upstairs (no easy task) and put it on my computer desk. A couple of months later, the top of the desk actually broke.

One by one as I showed the monitors to people, they declined to buy one. I lowered my asking price from $100 to $75 (in hopes of breaking even) and finally $50 (in hopes to getting rid of them), but no one was interested. These things were just too big for their own good.

Of the six monitors, I ended up using one, one went to Dad, one went into a MAME Arcade Cabinet, and the other three have been sitting in my garage for seven years. The window of opportunity to part with these monitors was small to begin with, and completely closed as LCD monitors quickly took over.

I have gone as far as to offer these monitors to friends for free, with the caveat that they come pick them up (I’m being serious; these things are unbelievably heavy). I couldn’t even give them away! At one point I even ran an ad on Craigslist, asking $20/monitor (to weed out the absolute riff-raff). Nothing.

Here at home we get calls from donation centers at least once a month offering to come to our house and pick up donations from our front porch. I learned earlier this year that they’ll pick up just about anything — including CRT monitors. A few months ago I donated all of my old 14″, 15″ and 17″ monitors. Tonight, I moved (with the help of a dolly) the last three 21″ monitors out to the front porch.They are every bit as big and heavy as I remembered. Good luck to the guy who has to move them tomorrow.

Every time I dump things I bought to resell I swear I’ll never do it again. Unfortunately, this usually only lasts until the next great deal comes along.

flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

In the same nook out in the garage where I found all my old concert tickets, I also found a file folder full of, for lack of a better term, “love notes”. I knew I had saved these somewhere, I had just forgot where. Since everybody else went to bed early Saturday night, I decided to give these old cards and notes the same treatment the concert tickets got — scan, and toss.

As I began scanning all those notes in I couldn’t help but to read some of them. It’s safe to say, my high school love life was pretty pathetic. Every relationship I was involved in was off balance, with either me liking the other person more than she liked me, or vice versa. Come to think of it, I guess a lot of relationships that don’t work out could be described that way.

Most of the things I hang on to give me happy memories when I pull them out from time to time and look at them … but almost none of these letters did. Mostly I was reminded of how things went wrong, of times I had hurt others, or others had hurt me. I thought about the relationships I had let go on too long and the ones that never had a chance. The author of every note I read either deserves an apology from me or owes me one.

The further I worked my way through the stack of keepsakes, the more depressed I got. Only a fourth of the way through, I decided to take a break. I walked out to the kitchen to fix myself a drink and saw Susan had fallen asleep on the couch sitting up with her laptop sitting running on her lap. Mason was asleep on the other couch, his blanket in the floor. I went and checked on Morgan who was asleep in her bed. While in Morgan’s room I picked up a random stuffed animal (Mike from Monsters, Inc) and, back in the living room, placed him on Susan’s laptop so she would laugh when she woke up and saw it. I picked Mason’s blanket up and draped it over him.

I then went back to my computer room, picked the entire pile of memories up and dumped them in the trash. For someone who throws very little away, this was surprisingly easy. Some things are just better left behind.

flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

While digging around out in the garage earlier this evening I found my old stash of concert tickets. In a move that I hope I don’t soon regret, I spent about an hour tonight digitally scanning them into the computer and then throwing the physical copies away. I like looking at them from time to time because they remind me of the concerts I’ve attended, but I don’t need the physical pieces of paper to do that. So, one by one tonight, they went into the computer and then into the trash. Here are a few that stood out to me:

Oldest Ticket Award: Cinderella, Bullet Boys and Winger (March, 1989). I went to this concert with my friend Heather and (I think) her sister. I was 15 years old.

I Beat the Rush Award: Two-way tie on this one. The first goes to Pantera/Wrathchild America (May, 1991). Cowboys From Hell, their first major label album, was released in 1990; Vulgar Display of Power came out in 1992. This was pretty early in their career, as evidenced by the $13 price.

The other one is Faith No More/Circus of Power (June, 1990). To give you an idea of how small of a club show this was, you can see the ticket number printed on the side (#374). Kinetix held around 500 people.

Best Deal Award: Danzig/White Zombie (November, 1992). $12 for Danzig and White Zombie. White Zombie opened and was just gaining in popularity (this would have been the same year they released their debut major label album). Danzig was touring in support of his third album, How the Gods Kill. Great concert.

Newest Ticket Award: Melvins (August, 2009). Another awesome show.

I seem to be missing a lot of tickets — right off the top of my head I see Ozzy, Sepultura, Type-O-Negative, Nine Inch Nails, Korn and Slipknot are all missing, but all the tickets I do (or did) have are now online.

Want to see them? Here they are.

flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

After a really long week, I really needed this.

Moore Metropolitan Library

Thanks to Bobbo and Punkle.

flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

Around Halloween, Mason and I watched a couple episodes of some show that investigated and debunked urban legends (basically a rip off of Mythbusters). One of the urban legends told the story of a woman who, after grocery shopping, placed her sacks of groceries in the back seat of her car. After entering the car, the lady heard a loud bang. She reached up with her hand and when she felt the back of her head, she felt what she thought was her brains. When she looked at her hand, she realized what had really happened — a tube of Pop’n Fresh Dough had popped open and hit her in the back of the head. What she thought were her brains was really just dough.

Call it an urban legend, but something very similar once happened to me — except it wasn’t dough. It was Macaroni and Cheese.

When Susan and I first moved in together, we lived in a mobile home. The kitchen was right next to the living room, separated only by a bar counter. One night, Susan was cooking macaroni and cheese on top of the stove in a Pyrex dish … so basically you have this Pyrex dish full of mac and cheese, a two-foot wide counter, and the back of my head.

Suddenly and without warning, the dish exploded. To me it sounded like a gunshot. Like the woman in the story, I reached up and felt “my brains” coming out the back of my head. It was only after I leaped to my feet and checked my hand that I found not brains, but a handful of macaroni and cheese. And bits of Pyrex, of course.

We were so poor at the time that, although I can’t remember, it wouldn’t surprise me if we picked the glass out of the macaroni and still ate it.

Come to think of it, I have another macaroni and cheese story.

Back when I lived in my first apartment, food was hard to come by. I never went hungry … I worked at Pizza Inn, so at a minimum I had Pizza Inn for lunch and dinner and usually brought leftovers home and had those for breakfast. When Andy moved in, he was working at Pizza Hut. We pretty much ate pizza around the clock. So when I say food was hard to come by, I’m referring to “anything other than free pizza”. It was during this time that I invented “hot sauce soup.” Taco Bell was one of the few places that was open after I got off work at Pizza Inn, so I would go through their drive through and order an order of frijoles (beans), a small water, and about ten hot sauce packets. After I got my order I’d drink the water, put the beans in the cup, add the hot sauce packets, and make hot sauce soup, a 39-cent meal.

I don’t remember buying groceries a single time I lived in that apartment, so god only knows where the milk, butter and box of macaroni came from that I decided to cook one night after work. I boiled the macaroni, drained the water, added some butter and dumped the cheese powder on top. The last ingredient was a little bit of milk. When I opened the milk carton, a chunk of milk plopped out into the pan. It didn’t move or anything. It just sat there in a lumpy pile of milkish Jello.

I was so hungry that I just drained off the rotten milk and everything else and ate the noodles.

To this day I won’t drink milk without smelling it first. If it smells funky, I pass.

flack

Originally published at robohara.com. Please leave any comments there.

Six months ago I attended the Notacon hacker conference in Ohio and gave a presentation on how to self-publish books and the advantage of doing so. After my presentation I was approached by a fellow author who had previously purchased and enjoyed my first book, Commodork. We hit it off (at least I thought so) and talked about possibly combining efforts on some future writing projects. We shook hands and parted ways.

When I got back to Oklahoma I did all the virtual things we virtual friends do: I subscribed to his blog, added him on Facebook and subcribed to his Twitter updates. As I began reading through all of this guy’s old blog entries I remember telling Susan, “this guy writes like me!” I really felt a connection with this guy, and the possibility of working with him and the two of us helping one another in our writing endeavours really excited me.

A few weeks later, my new friend’s first book went on sale. I proudly purchased a copy and looked forward to it arriving. Unfortunately, it never did.

After waiting a month or so (I paid for priority shipping), I dropped my new friend an e-mail and was informed that he hadn’t got around to shipping all the books, but would do so that day. No problem; I’m pretty easy going. In fact, I waited two more months before asking again; this time I was told that my order had been “set aside” so that he could include some special extras with my order. While it was a nice gesture, all I really wanted was the book. Did I mention the book never arrived? It never arrived.

Today I got a Facebook broadcast message from my virtual friend, asking everyone on his list to pre-order his new book via Amazon. I didn’t order his new book; instead, I removed him from my Facebook, dropped his Twitter feed, and unsubscribed from his blog. There are more direct and/or vocal things I could do, to be sure. I could clutter up his Facebook page with whining about not receiving my book or perhaps send him a fourth or fifth inquiry about the status of my order, but the older I get the less of an effort I’m willing to put into these types of situations. Raising a ruckass at this point is unlikely to get me my book — more likely it’ll just end in wasted energy on my part.

I’m not upset about losing the twenty bucks ($20 is a cheap lesson). I’m more upset about not receiving the book (I was looking forward to reading it), but I’m most upset that I bought into this guy’s spiel hook, line and sinker. Don’t get me wrong — I don’t think this guy’s evil master plan is to go around friending fellow authors and suckering them for $20, but after asking on multiple occasions about my book I now see I don’t even register on this guy’s radar. Oh well.

I’ve got two, maybe three books currently in the works. The next time I have an order come in for one of them and I consider waiting a a couple of days before shipping, I’m going to remember this incident.

phosphordot

Two years and one day.

Originally published at Scribblings From The Public Restroom Stalls Of The Gods. Please leave any comments there.