Too Blue! by Dennis Andrews - Book Review

The story of how a group of individuals worked against corporate tradition and launched the IBM "Personal Computer" is an interesting tale and one that appeals to the history nerd in me. And since it's from the keyboard of a gentleman who was intrinsically involved with the project (albeit not from the very beginning), this soon resulted in an Amazon order.

Then I read the blurb on the back... 

There was going to be a rant, then I thought screw it, it's not worth it, so short review first, then a caveat...

This is a well written and rather detailed account of how the IBM PC's development proceeded, the challenges they faced with construction and marketing,  how the plans to develop a successor architecture kind of went off the rails when marketing got hold of it, and how that created the unfortunate link between PS/2 and OS/2. So far so good. There is interesting stuff a-plenty, and it's a good read, even if the author's corporate politics shine through...

Yeah, we get it, you loved your job, but can we please move away from the "your work must control your very lives and you might get a slightly higher wage for losing all your spare time with you family" schtick, for fuck's sake. Much like in Eric Berger's tome on the early days of SpaceX, sure, be committed to your career and achieving goals, but deity on a bicycle, you're only here once (possibly - other Faith's are available, or not, it's your life after all), so live, don't just exist as a wage slave. I know, I know, personal politics and all that, but that kind of expectation from "high achievers" often rolls down hill to the demand that even the lowest staff should drink the corporate Kool-Aid. This, I do not agree with.

Also, Mr Andrews, we get it that IBM's success was of direct benefit to Microsoft. It got them into operating systems, but after that, we are where we are because of Microsoft's business decisions, not IBM's. Even Clippy. And Copilot. Especially Copilot. 

Finally, please take your idolisation of the infra-red keyboard and shove it... in a cupboard. They've never worked reliably, they were practically a reason not to buy an Apricot machine in the mid-1980's here in the UK (with many more reasons not to buy Apricots in the US...), and when combined with whatever cheese-induced nightmare decision making process led to the PC Jnr's chicklet keyboard, well, just no. Seriously, as pointed out in my post reviewing Too Much Fun, if the keyboard is the primary, nay only input method for your computer, DO NOT MAKE IT SHIT! There were many worse out there too, but considering the prices IBM were asking for the Jnr in the States...

There's no reason not to buy this book if the subject is of interest, but there is a huge caveat pictured below that you NEED to be aware of in doing so.

I do not like historical revisionism for the sake of self promotion. I can understand why whoever wrote the back cover blurb (whether it was the author or not), tried to pump up the energy about the subject matter, but frankly, dearies, this one is a doozy.

I made similar comments in my review of Too Much Fun about the "Nintendo Saviour" complex there seems to be about the 1980's video games market, which completely ignores the computer gaming side of things and pretty much leans to the concept that without the Nintendo Entertainment System arriving in the US when it did, no one would be playing games on an electronic device these days. That's bullshit, completely ignores the fact that other countries even existed, and wipes out the contributions of the countless thousands who developed hardware and software completely separated from home consoles. Yet the blurb for Too Blue!, backed up by the author's pro-IBM stance, does the very same thing with personal computing. 

IBM DID NOT invent personal computers, either for home or business use. They were, however, the only company that could define a business standard for personal computers at that time. They had the sales teams, marketing, and reach to do it, and they did it. But without the clone market, prices of DOS PC's would never have dropped to the point where the average home user could buy one. While all that was happening, there were many companies supplying some highly (and not so highly) capable computers to the average home user, and that seems to have been missed out in this book. Credit where credit is due, but even a cursory glance at the period shows that personal computers were very much a thing before Personal Computers. No amount of corporate flag waving is going to change that. 

That is to get into computing history proper, and there is an absolute ton of it about out there, from the perspective of both personal and business users, and whilst you will learn a lot from Too Blue!, it should not be read in isolation, as that history is rich, varied, and there is always something more to discover. That's what makes it so much fun. Anyway, aside from that caveat, it's a good read. 

You can pick up a copy of Too Blue! from Amazon. 

Too Much Fun by Jesper Juul - Book Review

Subtitled "The Five Lives of the Commodore 64 Computer", Too Much Fun has, in my humble opinion, one of the finest introductions to any reference work for either a specific format or a general history of computing. Why? Because the author states clearly and concisely from the very beginning that the US-centric history of "video games" is extremely narrow, and most definitely NOT what the accepted history of video games (console and computer-based) should be defined as.

Indeed, it's only been a few months as I write this since there was a bit of a kerfuffle about video games "history" and the approach taken by rather too many social media peeps in that the US crash of 1983 is revered as a turning point in video games history, permitting our Lord and Saviour Nintendo to deliver us from boredom. And I'm not even getting into the computer vs video gaming nomenclature argument, because if you stick to the latter as meaning home consoles only, then the home computing scene pretty much never existed. As I may have said in many non-professional (and in some professional) settings, what absolute complete and utter bollocks. And here is Mr Juul's finely written tome to help prove it. 

Oh, this isn't a format thing, and I'll tell you it pleased be no end to see the Olivetti Programma 101 referenced in a very early infographic, but it needs to be recognised by all that just because you experienced events from your cultural viewpoint, that doesn't mean to say it was the only perspective. Just check out Lewis Packwood's Curious Video Games Machines! With this MIT publication, the author brings a highly focussed look at where the influential Commodore 64's origins, how it succeeded, how it maintained its popularity, and how it became, and continues to be, a legend in home computing. And for games. 

The Five Lives of the C64 have space to breathe, with the first chapter giving us a narrative explaining where the C64 came from and how it did what it did  - for the time, an impressive machine. The second moves onto the gaming side of the computer's life, and how it captured the hearts of those fortunate enough to experience it (all the more so if you had a disk drive - even one as slow as the 1541!). That being said, my first home computer was an Amstrad CPC 464 and I absolutely loved that micro. Didn't mean I wasn't envious when I saw some of the other computers my friends had - different games for different formats, but as a ten year old, receiving the mono-screened majesty of the CPC was a moment of joy. Then it went into the loft when I acquired an Amiga. Oh well...

The author moves onto the demo scene in chapter three, and how both individuals and groups managed to stretch the capabilities of Commodore's stand out micro far beyond the expectations of its original creators. I only really got into experiencing the output of demo groups when I had the aforementioned Amiga, but having had a look about the author's website (https://www.jesperjuul.net/c64/ - and frequently referenced within the text), I now have a much greater understanding of the 8-bit's wonder. 

The fourth section details the efforts to keep the C64 relevant, and that means GEOS - quite the achievement for a 6502-powered machine. I will, however, dock Mr Juul a half point from this blog's non-existent review scoring system for not mentioning RISC OS in his list of GUI's on page 160. I'm not angry, just... disappointed... ;-)

The final chapter deals with the legacy of the C64 and the how and why it has become a highly appreciated retro system today, before wrapping up the text with a fitting lesson for a conclusion. Throughout, there are quotes, interviews and personal reminiscences that add much flavour and detail to the subject. 

The book ends, as it should, with a highly useful bibliography, and having a scan through the tomes listed, I have to say I own quite a few of them. Yes, there will be a review of TOO BLUE! in the forthcoming weeks, because oh boy, there's things that need saying...

Anyways...

One of the joys of reading about the history of gaming is expanding my knowledge. As a UK bod, I'm much more familiar with that market and its history (as well as having been playing games since the early 1980's), so by extension, my knowledge of other country's gaming past is naturally going to be patchy until I get to read more about it. This knowledge base is not a reason for me to dictate that events in the UK have a greater importance than those in other countries. Far from it. Instead, it's a reason to learn about those other markets, the hardware, the software and the people behind them, and that's what this book does for a very specific subject, and it does it bloody well. 

The dominance of the US-centric history or gaming (video/computer/whatever) is not a good thing. Yes, it should be acknowledged as a huge market, and a highly influential one, but it was not the be all and end all (see Mr Packwood, for example, or Jamie Lendino's fine ST tome, Faster Than Light). Too Much Fun is a marvellous example of this being highlighted and providing a thoughtful and illuminating history of a computing format that, if we were to subscribe to the seemingly "orthodox" view, died after the excruciating US 8-bit price war of the early 1980's. A war that console "video games" history would have you believe never actually occurred. It did, and to find out what happened next to the C64, this book will serve you well. 

You can check out the author's website here where you'll find details on this and his previous books. You can pick up this book from the usual online stores (also listed on the author's website), and I'm sure you'll be able to order it in to your local bookshops as well. You won't be disappointed if you do. 

Magazines of Yesteryear - Personal Computer World - Volume 1 Number 2 1978

Nothing says computers in the 1970's like a maths equation, and with this second issue of PCW, published in April 1978, one way to escape the drudgery of maths was to use a computer - in this case, a Commodore PET. It was early days for the micro, but if you were sufficient of heel, you too could have joined in the fun. And since we're delving back 47 years here, I have relied upon the Bank of England inflation calculator to provide a rough guide to what those far off prices are like today, placed in brackets after the original prices. Please keep in mind that perceived value is something else entirely, as is the actual cost of living - just as Switch 2 games at £75 might be, inflation-wise, similar value than cart games of the early 1990's, seventy five quid is still seventy five quid, and times have most definitely changed. With that noted, on with the magazine.

The publisher's letter on page two grabs your attention immediately, with the heartening news of expected sales of the debut issue hitting 25,000, and some 3,000 subscribers. As will become apparent, just because there were not that many micros in the UK (for sale or actually sold), that didn't mean there wasn't keen interest in computers. Small acorns and all that...

The letters page has the first doozy of the issue, and it's that age-old complaint regarding US and UK pricing - the PET being £695 (£3,700), whereas the US price equated to £305 (£1,600). The author concedes taxes, country specific alterations and logistical costs, but still questions the difference. He also queries Tandy's possible pricing, which turned out to be similarly "high", but hey, individual markets and "reasons" - it certainly didn't matter whether the US had more disposable household income or not - and that was a very general assumption.

One does, however, love the response to the question as to why the US edition of PCW was not $1, so there you go. 

Note, also, the rather tetchy letter from Keith of Intel regarding Guy Kewney's issue one piece on the brief history of the computer. And that final paragraph - be told! 

Contents page.

The first article of entitled "Power to the People", and given 47 years of technological advancement and capitalism, it's rather quaint but also quite prophetic in some instances - flat panel displays and networking, anyone. OK, not huge leaps of faith but an interesting feature nonetheless. 

The keypad was the usual "high quality" item... 

The Might Micromite casts its gaze on the Science of Cambridge MK14 computer kit - well, single board computer, a highly useful and very affordable opening into the world of computing, as the above ad states, at only £39.95 plus £3.20 VAT and postage (or £43.55 (£230) in the order form! - just state the total cost, you planks, marketing be damned!). The author confides that he is sure it will do very well, and if you know your history, Science of Cambridge was previously called Sinclair Instrument Ltd, before evolving into Sinclair Computers and thence Sinclair Research. As for the article, it covers the basics of what the board offers, and what you can do with it. 

Since this was the very early days of the micro, the kit option was often the most affordable, and "The Compleat Kit Builder" feature gives you all the info about the kit you needed to get started. And it was a lot, to be honest. The approach is about right even for the newbie. Oh, and points for cuteness using the archaic spelling for a then-modern tech. 

More user information is on hand with "Yes, but what does the little beast do?" Not a guide to youth-based chimney cleaning from the 1900's (because it should be), but an illustrative guide as to what a microprocessor actually does. Again, aimed at the beginners to the hobby, it should be remembered that at this point, the average person's exposure to computers would have been as a huge box with lots of lights, spinning tapes, and either the offer of light comedy or end of humanity levels of threat. I jest, but this was the kind of article that was needed for the prospective audience. You might have an interest, but in those days, the practical aspects of form and function were important in garnering understanding for end users. 

BASIC - The First Steps is another introductory guide and yes, gentle reader, we have "HELLO" as the first program. It warms the cockles of me 'eart, it does, and the instructions on the use of specific keys highlights just how alien using a computer would have been to some new users - telling people that pressing the "delete" key once removed the last character typed, pressing it twice removed the last two, may seem positively ridiculous now, but given that if you had used a "keyboard" back then, it would likely have been a manual typewriter, these basics were much needed. 

Speaking of which, "Typing Without Tears" aimed to give readers a helpful hand in how to improve their typing skills via two routines, since the primary way of interacting with a computer would remain the keyboard for years to come (and still is for most uses). Given how bad some keyboards on early micros would be (IBM PC Jnr, any Sinclair product - I will die on that hill -  Jupiter, Oric, Atari 400, and yes, the machine of the day as far as this issue of PCW goes, the Commodore PET), one can only look back in amazement and wonder what the actual fuck was going on in the heads of the manufacturers. It's the one accepted method of input. Don't make it shit! Mind you, I could say the same for operating systems in the 21st Century. Looking at you, Microsoft. ESPECIALLY YOU!!!

Wise words, indeed!

Harry Harrison (yes, he of the Stainless Steel Rat) is up next with a look at the Sperry K3 sight, a mechanical analogue computer in use during the Second World War. Point being, don't ignore mechanical computing from the very early days of computing itself. 

Next is an article by Guy Kewney, whose association with PCW would span many, many more years. It's a comment piece and targets the nature of the personal computer business regarding profits and sales. With a mix of anecdotes and observations, it's an intriguing look at the market as was, and signs off with the lovely observation that the high cost companies are not rip-off merchants(!), merely cautious. Over-cautious in the author's mind, and they don't yet really believe that the man-in-the-street wants to spend £300 on a computer. "They'll learn". And look what happened... by the end of 1980, the ZX80 was yours for under a ton (£420 - sweet), and Acorn's Atom for £175 (£740), both assembled. They were spoiling us by then.

What follows is best described as an infomercial. It's an article about Commodore's approach to computing, aka the Commodore PET, it's history, what it could do, and what possibilities awaited. So what, you may think? Well, it was written by Kit Spencer of Commodore UK, but hear me out. I can totally understand why this feature exists. It's a justification as to why a home micro exists and why you might want to buy one over say a MK14 or similar single board computer. Whether you could afford it was a big question, but it was one of the less expensive than most competitors. It's an informative piece and more than justifies its place in this issue. 

The good lady looks as impressed with him as she is with the PET's keyboard*

Martin Collis brings us his experience in bringing a small business system into action in a software house. After choosing an SWTP 6800 from Computer Workshop (more on them in a moment), they spec'd a 4K single interface system, added a further 12K of RAM, a second interface and a cassette controller. The reasons were price, the greater popularity of the Motorola 6800 over the Intel 8080, and the fact that there were (and then still were) plans to manufacture the kit in Britain - this would continue to be a "thing" for years to come, but times would change. The kits arrived about ten weeks later, and it took two of them about two weeks to assemble and solder the beast together. And we complain about the time taken for Windows to update. Actually, yes, we still should, if you are still using Windows. Whatever benefits Win 11 seems to have, I still consider it a dumpster fire of an OS. 

After what seemed to be a dodgy power supply that actually turned out to be duff memory involving several trips to CW, the guys were almost ready to rock and roll. Except an 8K board and the cassette interface were still en-route - and this after nearly four months had passed since ordering them... Throwing caution (and fiscal propriety) to the winds, they cancelled the cassette interface and ordered a twin mini-floppy set up that happened to be in stock. We'll get to prices shortly. 

Software wise, they ended up with version 0.9 of the BASIC when they expected version 2. Still, they got some games running on it (it's always about the games!), and were awaiting the new BASIC version as they'd found some bugs in 0.9. In summary, they found the hardware robust and reliable (albeit not liking a cold room), though the SWTP system software was iffy, and that Computer Workshop's hardware support was excellent - their software support less so. Once the new OS was ready, they would be able to start developing bespoke programs for their needs.

The cost, you may ask? The processor, twin disk drives, and 24K of RAM set them back £1,700 (£9,150). Adding a VDU (that's visual display unit, or monitor for you kids out there) and 30 character per second printer would cost a further £1,500 (£8,000), for a grand total of £3,200 (£17,150). When created, they expected the cost of their software to add £800 (£4,300) to the package, and if you needed "full size" floppy drives, that would add a further £900 (£4,800) on top. 

A similar case study, this time for a ready built system, focuses on Computech, a company that was founded in 1966 as a recruitment agency and as a developer of software for accounting machines and visible record computers. The recruitment side took off, the other, less so, but in this piece that "should be of interest to the hobbyist", (weren't they all hobbyists back then?), the focus was acquiring a computing solution with a hardware cost not exceeding £10,000 (£53,800). Their choice, as you can see, remained handily within their budget. They ended up developing in-house programs, and had at the time of this article, computerised three of their four agencies for a total outlay of about £20,000 (£107,600), and this after they had considered a mini-computer in the form of a PDP-11. As the article notes, the hardware was purchased in November 1976, first live running was April 1977, and within six months of that, things were going great. 

I mentioned Computer Workshop before, and on page 42, we have an interview with John Burnett and Gordon Ashbee of the aforementioned retailer. There's some interesting snippets here, such as a discussion on what the "hobby market" actually was - and a wonderful observation about the difference between the US and UK markets - the former had a higher level of disposable income and different tax rules, so an amateur was truly an amateur, whereas in the UK, they considered people who bought a computer as wanting a return on that investment. That and the US user would have quite the high end set up, whereas a genuine UK amateur would stick to a low cost, barebones system. There's also commentary on the future of computers in education (it's coming), and that they have grown to the point where they can't provide a truly personal service to customers anymore  - a shame but also testament to the growth of their business. 

The PET 2001 review begins with an overall impression (very well constructed and with some nice features), but the reviewer also states that they only had a day with the machine whereas a week would have been preferable. As a review, it gets rather technical, but the last paragraph is a one for the times, leaving a number of questions hanging. Yes, you can easily form an impression, but what happens when you expansion and support? "These are questions worth asking and worth getting answers to" - so provide them please. It's a review, after all. Sadly, no answers are forthcoming, but the reviewer did not like the keyboard. So, do you buy one? I have no idea, and neither did the reviewer. I can't help feel that if the Spencer article and this review were combined, it would have been more helpful to the casual reader, but would have also completely torpedoed the idea of editorial independence. Oh well. 

A second review tackles the Research Machines 380Z, a box I am vaguely familiar with as Tanfield Comprehensive had a single example in one of its Archimedes A3000 suites. The review is more fun than the PET one, as the author here shows a fine line in criticism and humour - the reminder for readers to ensure all of their plugs are correctly fused is a quaint throwback to times when they still showed children how to accomplish such tasks, something that still happened in the early 1990's. Build quality came in for some criticism, with the choice of cabling and lack of shock protection causing some concern, but the software offering was highly praised. The author notes that his criticisms are mostly personal, and that if you could only afford a barebones system for £400 (£2,150), then you'd be well served, and of course the expansion options would be great for schools and businesses. A few quirks, but the reviewer was sorry to see the review unit go. 

Teaching children about maths and ultra small print.

Two programs take up the following four pages, one a pseudorandom number generator, the other a scrambling program, before we get to a piece on teaching packages for the classroom. All three include listings for those with 20:20 vision. 

A comment piece of data processing and analysis NOT happening in the NHS posits some rather good arguments as to the use of computing in medical care to deliver better patient care and outcomes. If that sounds familiar, that probably because that mantra has been repeated often of the intervening forty seven years, and this work comes from a time when you didn't have huge corporations trying to earn billions from multi-year contracts for systems that never seen to deliver on their promise. What? Me, political, pshaw! And don't get me started on data hoovering and monetisation... All I will say is that the author makes some good points, a lot has been achieved since then, but the ever-lasting presence of late stage capitalism in healthcare is royally fucking things up. 

On safer ground is the section dedicated to the Amateur Computer Club View, and the gloriously understated opinion that the £695 (£3,700) of the 8K PET is "a bit much for the average amateur." Who would have thunk it? And in a situation that would be repeated countless times over the next several years, orders for X machine have not been received. In this instance, it's the rather more affordable NASCOM-1, which famously was expected to need 200 sales to make a profit, 400 would have been great, and they sold the latter amount in the first two weeks. Mind you, considering the absolute cluster that was 8-bit micro production in general between 1980 and 1985, this was just a sign of things to come. 

A feature on the small system approach to program editing may be of interest to some - I'm an SQA bod, so whilst I can generally understand RPG in the context of financial programs, writing and editing it is another thing entirely. Hell, I can still forget the odd semi-colon on an ACS command every now and again. Anyhoo...

We have a multi-page deep dive on the E78 Europa Bus for those of a hardware mind, before the Products page, featuring the KIM-1 microcomputer system card, yours for £185 (£1,000). They were quite popular for a time, so a suitable option if the MK14 didn't appeal. 

That's it for editorial, so what about the ads? Considering the era, there are more than you'd think, but at the same time, we were still bound by the aesthetic of the period. 

We have Xitan Systems on page 2 offering a range of Z80 systems from the likes of Cromemco, North Star and Dynabyte, and from only £1,539 ex VAT (£8,300). These names would hang around for a few years, until the slow move away from the Z80 and the "joy" that was CP/M that would define a business machine. In time, PC-DOS/MS-DOS would replace CP/M as the OS of choice, mostly due to the ubiquity of the IBM PC and its kinda/sorta compatibles. True compatibility would take a little while longer to arrive, but for fans of DR's aging OS, at least Amstrad had consumer's backs by using CP/M on its PCW range until 1994. 

Comart were another distributor of the above manufacturers, and use Xitan as a local supplier. 

The Newbear Computing Store would sell you all the bits and pieces you'd likely need, including a vast array of TTL IC's (integrated circuits), literally for pennies, although something like a 2.5MHz Z80 was a more substantial £15.50 ex VAT (£85-ish). 

For books and magazines, L.P. Enterprises has you sorted, and quite the range to US publications. Check out the magazines in the right hand column - even in the beginning of times, there were choices galore for periodicals. 

Compelec Electronics wishes you entry to the Altair Age, and a range of systems that could be expanded with floppy drives and even a ten megabyte disc system, for a price obviously. The System 9V as shown for £6,781 to £7,026 (£36,500 to £37,800) hasn't any specifications listed, but one presumes it was a serious amount of kit for the time. 

Lastly, a final mention of the Computer Workshop, whose ad is straight to the point with a list of machines, in both kit and assembled form, with prices excluding VAT and carriage. 

Regular readers will know that I can be quite waspish when it comes to the magazines of yesteryear, but in this instance, I feel that approach would have been (mostly) unwarranted. This was at the dawn of personal computing, and the focus was still very much on small businesses and the amateur who could afford such frippery. Yet within a couple of years, there were moves to more readily available machines, and sure, the ZX80 was a kickstart the home owner needed, but it was by no means the only option, and you paid for what you got. Mass market offerings would take yet another year or two, and by that I mean games. You may disagree, but whatever "serious" reasons that may have existed for buying a home micro, the creation of a games industry didn't happen because Father wanted to track stocks, or Mother was busy balancing the home economics budget. And yes, those stereotypes lasted for a lot longer than many of the micros that followed these early efforts. 

As for our next sojourn to the periodicals of the past, I have not yet decided, although I feel the mid-1980's  calling. We shall see. 

* The temptation for a Geordie themed caption was high but I controlled the urge, pet.

The RISC OS North Show - 29th March 2025

It was with some anticipation that we of TIT Towers journeyed to the town of Warrington in Cheshire for the inaugural RISC OS North show being held at the Village Hotel there (sadly not in a Lotus Super Seven S2, but neither being chased by giant white balloons, so clouds, silver linings etc). With the sad demise of the long running Wakefield show (which for the last three years had been held in Bradford, so another chance for the former West Wing star Bradford Wakefield gag to be exhumed for one last huzzah), RISC OS North found itself much like the titular space station in Babylon 5 - RISC OS's last best hope for a show north of London (by a matter of 8 minutes or so compared to the South West Show, according to Google). So how was it?

Well, pretty bloody good, to put it succinctly. I'm not going to repeat the contents of the rather excellent report from The Icon Bar, nor am I going to cover the four theatre talks in much detail - Mark has already done that here, as well as some nice photo coverage, so aside from the top image of the Soft Rock stand, there's no other imagery in this post - please click the link to TIB. An aside: if you want to keep up to date with all things RISC OS, not only do we have The Icon Bar, but also Riscository as well, so bookmark them to stay in the know. The ROOL forums are another font of knowledge that deserves your attention. What does follow, however, are my thoughts, impressions and random musings on the show and the weekend in general.

With TIT Towers location in deepest, darkest County Durham (north by north west at the cathedral, if you hit the old steelworks, you've gone too far, definitely DO NOT turn left at Albuquerque!), it was something of a near three hour drive to Warrington, including a nice little stop off at Kirby Stephen for refreshments on the way, and then a quiet Thursday night spent at The Waterside pub. The attached hotel to the Waterside was our base for the weekend, and just a couple of minutes walk from the Village Hotel itself - and much more reasonable value for rooms, too. 

The Friday was spent seeing what Warrington had to offer and, should we return (see below), we'll be making a quicker beeline to the Warrington Market, where numerous small food businesses are located along with a large seating area. The food we did have to go was lovely, so plenty of other options to try again in the future. As for the town itself, not a bad little place, and although some of it looks like Consett with the charm, none of it approached the level of Stanley without it. If you know, you know. Friday evening saw us back at the Waterside pub where the first points were scored on the "They're in with the RISC OS crowd" bingo card. Next year, we'll have an Observers book(let) ready. 

Saturday dawned and, after a frankly disappointing hotel breakfast (yet their evening meals were really good, so go figure), we wandered to the show venue. Admittance started at 10.30, and we were soon wandering the stalls. Conversations were had, some money changed hands, and it was great to catch up with familiar faces as well as talk to new ones too. It really is a friendly community should you wish to attend future events.

This year, the hardware purchase was a RISCOSbits DIY Three, as my near six year old PiHard began pining for the fjords a couple of months back. I'm looking forward to the build process as well as giving the new casing something of a funky paint job. 

Other pick ups included the Drag N' Drop back catalogue, Soft Rock Software's revised Software Collection, the latest title from Amcog Games, Morphix, and paying my membership dues for the Wakefield Club. A t-shirt from RISC OS Open covered the last of the cash purchases, and the only other item collected that day was the brand new issue of Archive magazine from its stand, manned this year by Colin from Samcoupe.com. It was nice to have a catch up, despite the very last minute delivery of the issues (about 9am, I believe he said), and he also had some top of the counter SAM Coupe goods for sale - issues of SAM Revival, key rings, a framed ASIC, and he was more than happy to show off some new hardware too. 

One thing I didn't pick up from the charity stall was a huge back collection of Archive issues, and although the appearance of an Iyonix was also a temptation, there simply isn't room at TIT Towers to do it justice. Opposite that stall was a lovely display by the North West Computer Museum. We visited (and donated kit) there last year, and although we had no time this year, quite a few of the exhibitors had either taken advantage of its proximity to have a gander before the show, or were planning to go the next day. Warnings were passed on about the rather generous cheese toasties we "experienced" last year. Seriously, there was a lot of cheese!

The layout of the show was dictated by the venue, with a dividing wall blocking off most of the exhibitors from the theatre area, which in the previous venue was is a separate room. This worked pretty well, but there was the slight quibble that if you were sat at the back rows of the theatre seating, there was a bit of noise overspill from the show area. A minor issue and one that was fed back to the organisers. They have thoughts for a show next year which will see that disappear so, yeah, that was my only criticism of the show.  

Everything else was spot on, and credit to Richard, Andrew and everyone else involved in putting this show together at relatively short notice. It was well organised and seemed to have a buzz that made the whole day feel even better. As you may have noted from the above, there are plans for a show at the same venue next year, and probably around the same time of year. Richard explained their reasoning clearly in his theatre chat, and to be honest, the small window between the winter weather and the wedding season is perfectly suited for a northern RISC OS show. What I can say is that if there is a RISC OS North, I will happily make the journey. It's a worthy successor to the Wakefield shows of lore and long may there continue to be a northern event!

There was also, however, talk of the London show at the end of October, and whilst it would make for a lovely trip (as well as seeing the capital because apart from a trio of wargames shows at the Excel pre-Covid, I haven't been to the capital proper for some twenty seven years, and there's a lot of cool stuff to see - the priority, obviously, would be the RISC OS show). I'll look at the logistics to see if that's a go-er, but in the meantime, it's just good to know that the UK has two RISC OS shows well spaced both geographically and in the calendar, and if you can make it, there's always the RISC OS eXperience in The Netherlands in May.

RISC OS is still a fun and funky hobbyist OS for people to use, and as long as you are aware of its limitations, there's no reason not to give it a try if you want to. Maybe the Moonshots Initiative will pick up support to secure the future of the OS in a 64-bit world (The Register covered that as well), but regardless of that, there has never been a better time than the present to dive in. You'll find the majority of the movers and shakers in the RISC OS world listed on the RISCOS North show website here.

Magazines of Yesteryear - What Micro? - January 1988

What other way for What Micro? to celebrate its fifth birthday than with a declaration of the top ten business machines then available on the market. Given the date, you might be surprised by one or two of the selections, but hey, it was the 80's, and a time that, for computer fans in the UK at least, meant that the 16-bit generation was beginning to hit its stride. 

But first, the news...

Amstrad had launched their portable range, although at 12lbs, the PPC's stretched the definition of portable. Starting at £399 ex for a single floppy, 512Kb model, rising to £499 ex for 640Kb, and an extra £100 each for another floppy (which would make life a hell of a lot easier), these were very competitively priced. That the PPC640 rocked a 2,400 baud modem was a cherry on top. Sure, the LCD was crap, and the keyboard simply mediocre, but if you had to have a computer for use at points A, B and beyond, they did the job.  

Just as Epson's portable could, and with a smaller, but not overly lighter, form factor. There again, that would set you back £1,395 where as a similarly spec'd PPC640 would do you for £599. You pays your money and all that...

The same goes for Apple, and a lot of money too! Even with cuts of up to £300, a hard disk equipped SE would still leave you £2,895 worse off, although the basic Plus was £200 lighter at £1,795 - a veritable bargain... Of the more expandable Mac II, this was a case of there being coughs, near and far. A mono HD model for £5,195 was definitely a far cough moment. 

Back in the clone world, Compaq were trying to tempt users to the joys of VGA graphics, but while you may think that £400 for just the card to get 640x480 at 256 colours was a bit steep, that was a snip considering the accompanying colour monitor was £505. A mono-VGA tube was only £205, but surely you'd never pay that much for a graphics card and not experience glorious technicolour? There again, that £400 in late 1987 is now just over half of the imaginary MSRP of the Nvidia RTX 5090 today! 

Tandy were refreshing their range of machines, and although tempting business options, £595 for a basic 256Kb of RAM was a tad pricey. 640Kb would take the price to £795 with a mono monitor, and £995 for CGA. At this point, the 286 models seemed like a better bet at £895, and with greater expansion options too. Sadly, it was a tad early for the 386 to be anything other than a multi-user (see below) wonder, with the Tandy 4000 expected to start at £1,995 for a system with just a floppy and no monitor. A useable spec with a hard drive and mono screen began at £2,995, and EGA graphics added another £500. 

AST talked of shipping a 20MHz 386, although prices were still to be confirmed. What you would do with a 386 as a single user was a more pertinent question, and providing justification of not spending the money. Meanwhile, Digital Research were upping their efforts to disappear slowly into history by releasing Concurrent DOS 386 2.0. Notable bragging rights were for up to 255 simultaneous tasks on a 386 machine with up to 4 (count 'em) gigabytes of memory, with each terminal user (for what else would you have this OS and such power for in 1988) able to run two MS-DOS programs at the same time. Not bad, but if you could afford that much memory in 1988, the cost of the attached 386 would have been just a mere rounding error. 

VGA graphics got a proper mention with the release of more upgrade boards, although the cheapest still rocked in at £299 and you'd still need the relevant display on top. 

The cover feature next, and by grouping the winners into ten categories, the What Micro? team have tried to cram in as many machines and formats as possible. 

Amstrad won Best Budget IBM Compatible, which is no surprise although comment was made about how the higher end PC1640 with EGA style display option was worse value for money than its compatriots, coming in rather close to some 286 base systems. The 1640 was still better value than the 1512, and it's hard to disagree with that opinion in hindsight. 

Fastest IBM Compatible went to the Compaq Deskpro 386/20, and when something starts at £5,225 ex VAT, it needed to fly off the proverbial shovel. IBM came close, as did the Mission 386.2 (nope, no idea either), but given the scarcity of 386 20MHz offerings out at the time, this was an easy win. 

Most Innovative Micro next and, well, yes, yes it was, and I'm not hiding my favouritism at all here. The Acorn Archimedes beat the Amiga and IBM's PS/2 range for innovation. For its price, it was fast, highly specified, and only lacked software to make it truly fly. If only it had been that simple. 

Cheapest Complete System feels like a section created for one reason and one reason only - the Amstrad PCW must be given its time in the spotlight. And you know what, for the late 1980's, if you wanted a home office system including a printer, there was no better value, and even the runners up section notes that the only real competitor to the £299 PCW would be a PC1512 and printer for about £600. Better, yes, but also double the price of the base PCW, and for that, Amstrad's CP/M wonder deserved its success. 

Back to the PC world with the next two - Best Value AT Compatible and Best Value 386-based Micro. The former was a clear winner given it's from one of the "big" manufacturers, although a tad slow at 8MHz when the competition were turning the dial up to 10 and even 12MHz (Ludicrous speed indeed!). The latter was a timely win for Apricot, being both British (when such malarkey still mattered), and being a relatively long time solid company. Whilst not as fast as say IBM's offerings (which were £2k more expensive, albeit with better expansion options), the Xen-I 386 was seen as a safer bet than the small company offering the cheapest 386 at that time, the Stanhope Baby 386, yours for £2,290. 

Laptops now (and Portables to come), with Zenith taking the honours for a 12 lb wonder that delivered a backlit LCD screen, something of a winner for any user. Toshiba, who would become synonymous with laptops as the 80's turned to the 90's, arrived as a runner up with their 1400LT - nearly half the price of the Zenith and suffering from only a squashed screen. Their more expensive models were considerations if you wanted more power (see below), and the Cambridge Z88 walked off with a nod to extreme portability. 

Ah yes, power. For the true "portable" warrior, the Compaq Portable III and Portable 386 took the larger of the mobile categories. They were expensive (£3.5k plus), heavy (20lbs), and mains only, but if you needed the grunt, these were the ones for you. There were many other options for the form factor, some even rocking under a grand, but Toshiba's T3100 and T5100 (also considered as laptops), were good alternatives as long as you had access to a mains point. 

The final two winners are the polar opposites of the era, Apple and IBM. Apple grabbed the Easiest to Use Micro award, which wasn't difficult to be fair, and with those new, "cheaper" prices... That, and it would take another year and a bit before the beauty that was RISC OS 2 descended from the heights for Archimedes owners... IBM had to settle for the Best Quality AT Compatible, which again wasn't difficult for the time. Yeah, the PS/2 Model 50 was expensive (£3,048 ex VAT), but you got some serious class for that outlay, with only Hewlett Packard and Compaq making up the rest of the running. 

A varied mix, to be sure, the same of which could be said for the AT trio from Dell, Ness and Qubie. Starting at £1,085 with the Ness, the Qubie and Dell offerings clocked in at £1,330 and £1,364 ex respectively, and while none of the machines had any major failings, the key differentiator was the service package - Dell's was highly professional, whereas Ness provided the bare essentials. Whether the extra £300 was worth it for the Dell was the key question. That being said, adding EGA colour to the trio varied wildly in price - Qubie for £325, Dell for £400, and a relatively extortionate £460 from Ness. 

Tandy's latest laptop came under the microscope, a 7.16MHz V20-powered device with 768Kb of memory and two (count 'em!) 720Kb 3.5" floppy drives. At £995 ex, it was a good value proposition compared to its rivals, yes, even the Amstrad PPC. Praise was given for the backlit LCD screen, and although there was a comment about the sheer value of Amstrad's offering (£499 for a similar spec), many would be better off spending more for the Tosh. To be fair, even now, I find the aesthetic really pleasing, although the idea of having a four hour battery life that required fifteen(!) hours to recharge from flat is a very 80's tech memory. 

As this was the fifth anniversary issue, the next feature is an obvious inclusion - a review of major events of the first five years of the magazine's life. It's a good potted history and packed with nice little bon mots of data, such as Amstrad's claim that as of the writing of the article, they had sold 750,000 PCW's. 

The In Brief section hosts a Lotus 1-2-3 competitor priced at under a tenner for the shareware version, and £30 for the full package including a manual, Graph in a Box (a pop up program that could create business graphics from a selection of data sources) was a £95 extra whose usefulness would be devalued as integrated packages came to the fore in the coming years, and Personnel Pal - not an A.I. People Services bot, thankfully, but more of a tech aid for personnel departments in their recruitment goals. No, not sure myself. 

The big software review is for Microsoft Excel, a £395 titan of number crunching. Adhering to the Windows 2 aesthetic, it was a worthy alternative to Lotus 1-2-3, but only for those who could afford the price tag and rocked a hard drive-equipped AT with EGA graphics. Spoiler alert, but as the SBC ad below shows, that set up would be nearly two grand ex VAT, thank you very much, with both Windows and Excel as extras. Onmis Quartz (a database manager/language) and Q&A Write (a would be DOS-based Word competitor) round off the software reviews. 

Hardware wise, NEC's budget (£395 was budget back then) 24-pin printer offered great value for money for the time, whereas the Cameron Handy Scanner was, for £299, limited in its black and white scanning abilities, but seemed good value compared to more feature-rich options if your needs were modest. The usual hardware guides and the like round off the editorial content, so now to the ads. 

Commodore have the first eye-catching offer as they try to convince people to spend £499 (VAT inclusive) on their new Amiga 500. Even before the price cuts and bundles that would see the Amiga rule the 16-bit home computer world, albeit briefly before consoles and DOS/Windows machines took over, this was astoundingly good value, and as such, was a great home computer choice if you had the money. For business or home office use, there were (as you have seen above), more efficiently aligned (Lord, I've been hanging around managers too much!) options offering a more holistic approach to your computing requirements (Shoot me now!). 

SBC (as previously mentioned), grab two pages for their DOS compatibles, and with fairly decent prices too. Kudos also for the ad that, although it looks rather "busy", manages to convey all the relevant information and the dealer network. The mention of Derwentside ITEC brings back memories too, as they were the school's first choice of work experience placement for several of us back in the day. 

Amstrad have a go at trying to shift their DMP range of printers to business users, and yes, they were cheap, and no, they were not great, not even with that impressive 15" carriage (calm down at the back!).

Meanwhile, OKI (via Technitron Data) were trying their same, and to be fair to them, they had a much greater range (and prices), and were often a reasonable choice. 

Our old favourite, Silica, pop up with an ST ad, and for £299, it was a great buy to those wanting to leave the 8-bit era behind, and at 60% of the cost of an Amiga. 

Here's Elonex with their PC range, and although not the cheapest, by no way the most expensive, and they would become a regular name in group tests and awards round ups throughout the 90's, at least until they gave up on computers and went down the novelty tech route. 

Hi-Voltage's spread has the usual Amstrad, Opus and SBC shenanigans. alongside the NEW Amiga A500 from £399 (ex, so don't get too excited, although still a discount), and the A2000. They even had the Acorn Archimedes on demonstration. Great news, and all that, but wait until prospective buyers saw the price tag... 

Speaking of Cambridge's finest Anglo-Italian team, Acorn have an advert, placed lovingly(!) on the back cover, extolling the virtues of the A300 series. Ignore all of the asterisks, they're just copyright nods, and take note of not only the pricing (£795 ex for the half-meg 305 with mono monitor, £1,035 ex for the one-meg A310 with a colour display - i.e. the one you should have gone for!), but also of the 0% finance offer. Not a bad idea, considering the price, but for a maximum period of 12 months, you still had to have some serious incomings to afford nearly £1200 at £100 per month. Dealer prices were a smidge cheaper, but consider the 2025 equivalent (courtesy of the Bank of England inflation calculator) - a total of £3,400 equalling £283.54 per month just for a computer. That might even make some Apple fans wince these days! Back then, however, that didn't even cover the cost of a basic Mac Plus!

That, gentle reader, was January 1988 for What Micro?, and I feel the need to once again move away from the DOS-centric world for the next MoYY. The question is, what publication, and when from... Have you ever considered the aesthetic qualities of a kipper tie?