I Got a 30-Year-Old Macintosh to Browse the Modern Web
The World’s Slowest YouTube Video
I found a beautiful Macintosh SE/30 from 1989 at a garage sale. My challenge was to get it online. After sourcing an ancient networking card on eBay, I managed to connect it to my router. Modern websites were a complete non-starter; the browser would crash instantly. But I eventually found a stripped-down, text-based browser that could handle simple pages. As a final test, I tried to load YouTube. It took about fifteen minutes to even render the search bar. The experience was useless, but seeing that iconic red logo slowly appear on the monochrome screen felt like a monumental victory.
The “Retrobrighting” Secret: How I Un-Yellowed My Super Nintendo
I Gave My Old Console a Chemical Peel
My childhood Super Nintendo had spent twenty years in the attic, and its classic gray plastic had turned a disgusting, sickly yellow. I learned this was due to a fire retardant in the plastic reacting to UV light. The solution felt like a science experiment. I submerged the console’s shell in a tub of hydrogen peroxide and left it in the sun for an afternoon. The UV light and peroxide work together to reverse the chemical reaction. When I pulled it out and rinsed it off, the plastic was restored to its original, beautiful 1991 gray.
Why My 1995 ThinkPad is My Favorite Writing Tool
The Ultimate Distraction-Free Machine
I write for a living, but I was constantly distracted by notifications and the urge to browse the web. On a whim, I bought a 1995 IBM ThinkPad for $50. It runs a basic word processor on Windows 95, has a world-class keyboard, and, most importantly, it cannot connect to modern Wi-Fi. When I sit down with it, the only thing I can do is write. There are no pings, no pop-ups, no temptations. Its limitations are its greatest feature. I get more focused work done on this 25-year-old machine than on my new $2,000 laptop.
I Resurrected a Commodore 64 from My Parents’ Attic
Waking Up a Sleeping Giant After 30 Years
While cleaning out my parents’ attic, I found it: my original Commodore 64, covered in dust. I had to know if it still worked. I plugged it in, connected it to an old TV, and flipped the switch. Nothing. My heart sank. But after some research, I discovered a common failure point is the external power supply, which can fry the computer. I ordered a modern, safe replacement online for $30. I plugged the new one in, held my breath, and flipped the switch. The iconic blue boot screen instantly appeared. I almost cried.
The Joy of Using a Palm Pilot in the Age of Smartphones
My Week With a Gadget from 1999
Overwhelmed by my smartphone, I decided to run an experiment. For one week, I used a Palm V organizer from 1999 for my calendar and to-do lists. The monochrome screen was simple, the stylus was precise, and the battery lasted the entire week. Syncing it with my PC required a physical cradle and a serial port adapter. It was wonderfully inefficient. But it was also focused. It did two things perfectly and never buzzed, pinged, or tried to sell me anything. It was a tool, not a taskmaster, and it was a profoundly calming experience.
How to Get Data Off a 3.5-inch Floppy Disk in 2024
Rescuing My Digital Memories from a Plastic Square
My mom found a box of old 3.5-inch floppy disks labeled “College Papers 1998.” I was desperate to see what was on them, but no modern computer has a floppy drive. My quest began. I had to buy a USB floppy drive on Amazon for $20. The first disk I put in was unreadable—a common fate for old magnetic media. But the second one spun up with that classic ker-chunk sound. A moment later, a Word document I had written at age 19 popped up on my screen. It was a true digital time capsule.
I Upgraded My Original iPod with a 1TB SSD and Bluetooth
My 2004 iPod Now Holds More Music Than Spotify
I have a deep nostalgic love for my old iPod with its iconic click wheel. But its original 20-gigabyte hard drive was tiny and failing. I decided to bring it into the modern era. I found a special adapter that lets you replace the spinning hard drive with an SD card. I installed a one-terabyte card, giving it more storage than I could ever fill. Then, I soldered in a tiny Bluetooth transmitter. Now, I have the perfect device: the classic, distraction-free iPod interface, but with a massive library and the ability to connect to my wireless headphones.
The Ultimate Guide to Collecting and Maintaining Vintage Computers
My Collection Isn’t Junk, It’s a History Museum
My friends see a dusty beige box; I see the first consumer PC with a graphical interface. Collecting vintage computers is about preserving history. My first rule is to focus on machines that were significant or that I have a personal connection to. My second rule is preventative maintenance: I immediately replace the internal batteries and check the capacitors on every new acquisition, as these are the most common points of failure. The thrill is in the hunt at thrift stores and the satisfaction of seeing a piece of computing history boot up successfully on my workbench.
I Played Doom on a “Smart” Toaster (Using a Vintage PC)
If It Has a Screen, It’s a Challenge
The old hacker mantra is, “If it has a screen, it can run Doom.” I saw a new smart toaster with a small color touchscreen and knew I had to try. The toaster itself couldn’t run the game, of course. The trick was to use an old Raspberry Pi—a vintage piece of tech in its own right—to run the game. I then had to figure out how to hijack the toaster’s screen and send the video signal from the Pi to it. After hours of tinkering, I was playing the classic 1993 game on my breakfast appliance.
How to Replace the Belt in an Old Walkman or Cassette Deck
The $2 Rubber Band That Saved My Mixtapes
I found my old Sony Walkman and a box of mixtapes from high school. I eagerly popped one in, but the music was a slow, warped, demonic crawl. The problem, in almost every old cassette player, is the drive belt. It’s a tiny rubber band that connects the motor to the tape spindles. After decades, that rubber turns into a sticky, black goo. I found a replacement belt kit online for $10. After carefully cleaning out the melted mess with alcohol, I looped the new belt on. The music played back perfectly.
The “Capacitor Kit”: The First Thing You Should Buy for Any Retro Console
An Ounce of Prevention for My Original Nintendo
When I got my hands on an original Nintendo Entertainment System, it worked, but the video was a bit fuzzy. I learned that the capacitors inside these 30-year-old machines are like tiny batteries that are all failing. They leak over time, which can ruin the picture and eventually destroy the circuit board. So, before I even played a game, I bought a “capacitor kit” for my specific console model for $15. It came with every capacitor I needed to replace. It took an hour of soldering, but now my NES is future-proofed for another 30 years.
I Got My Old Game Boy to Look Brighter Than a Nintendo Switch
My Game Boy Screen is Now Brighter Than My Future
I love my original Game Boy, but its dim, non-backlit, pea-green screen is impossible to see without direct sunlight. I decided to perform the most popular modern upgrade. I ordered a kit that includes a brand-new, full-color IPS LCD screen—the same technology in modern smartphones. The installation was delicate, requiring me to carefully remove the old screen and solder a few wires for power. But the result is breathtaking. My 1989 Game Boy now has a screen that is brighter, more colorful, and sharper than a brand-new Nintendo Switch.
The Lost Art of Dial-Up: Connecting a Vintage PC to the Internet
The Sound That Defined a Generation
I wanted to experience what the internet was really like in 1996. I installed an old 56k modem in my Windows 95 PC. The real challenge was finding a dial-up service that still existed. I eventually found one for about $10 a month. I plugged my phone line in, typed the number, and then I heard it: that glorious sequence of static, beeps, and screeches. The sound of a dial-up handshake is pure nostalgia. It took two minutes to connect and another five to load a basic webpage, but hearing that sound again was worth it.
Why Vintage Audio Receivers Sound Better Than Modern Ones
My Dad’s 40-Pound Receiver Crushes Your Soundbar
My friend bought a new, expensive soundbar. It sounded thin and lifeless. I invited him over and hooked up my dad’s old Marantz receiver from 1978. It’s a 40-pound beast of brushed aluminum with huge capacitors and a massive power transformer. We played the same song, and the difference was staggering. The vintage receiver produced a sound that was warm, rich, and powerful in a way the modern digital device just couldn’t replicate. They truly don’t make them like they used to; all the weight in that old metal box serves a purpose.
I’m Archiving My Family’s Old VHS Tapes. Here’s My Workflow.
Saving My Childhood from Fading Away
My parents have dozens of VHS tapes of my childhood birthdays and holidays. I knew that the magnetic tape was slowly degrading, so I began a project to digitize them. My workflow is simple but effective. I bought a used, high-quality VCR and a cheap USB analog-to-digital video converter. I connect the VCR to the converter, and the converter to my PC. I play each tape in real-time while the software on my computer captures it as a digital file. It’s a long process, but I’m building a permanent digital archive of priceless family memories.
How to Build a “Time Capsule” PC from a Specific Year (e.g., 1998)
Building My Dream Computer from High School
In 1998, I desperately wanted a Voodoo2 graphics card to play the latest games, but I couldn’t afford it. Last year, I decided to build that dream PC. I spent months on eBay sourcing period-correct parts: an Intel Pentium II processor, a Sound Blaster audio card, and yes, two Voodoo2 cards to run in SLI mode. The final step was installing a fresh copy of Windows 98. Booting it up and hearing that classic startup sound on the machine I could only dream of as a teenager was an incredibly satisfying journey back in time.
The “Gotek” Floppy Emulator: The Best Upgrade for Any Vintage Computer
A Thousand Floppy Disks on a Single USB Drive
The biggest hassle with vintage computers is dealing with unreliable, physical floppy disks. The ultimate solution is a Gotek floppy emulator. It’s a small device, the exact size and shape of a regular floppy drive, that you install in its place. But instead of a slot for a floppy, it has a USB port. You can store hundreds of floppy disk “image” files on a single USB stick. You use the buttons on the Gotek to select which disk image you want to “insert.” It’s the single best quality-of-life upgrade for any retro computer enthusiast.
I Restored a Vintage Rotary Phone to Working Order.
Bringing the “Click-Clack-Whirrrr” Back to Life
I bought a classic black rotary phone from the 1960s at a flea market for $10. It was grimy and didn’t have a dial tone. The restoration was more mechanical than electrical. I took the whole thing apart, cleaned decades of dust from the internals, and polished the bakelite body. The main problem was the contacts in the handset cradle, which I cleaned with a bit of sandpaper. It still doesn’t have a modular plug, so I had to buy an adapter. But now it works perfectly on my modern phone line, and the tactile feel of spinning the rotary dial is amazing.
The Surprising Value of Your Old “Junk” Tech
My Old iPod Box Paid for My Dinner
Before you throw out that box of old cables and accessories, check their value online. The market for vintage tech is booming. I was cleaning out a closet and found the original box for my 2005 iPod Nano, complete with the manual and plastic insert. It was empty—I just had the box. Out of curiosity, I looked it up on eBay. Collectors who had the iPod but not the packaging were paying for these. I sold the empty box for $45. Your “junk” might be the missing piece of someone else’s collection.
How to Use a CRT Monitor Safely on a Modern PC.
The Best Gaming Monitor Was Made in 2002
For playing retro games, nothing beats an old CRT computer monitor. Their instant response time and deep blacks make games look more authentic than on any modern LCD. To connect one to my modern gaming PC, I needed a special DisplayPort to VGA adapter that can handle the high refresh rates. The result is incredible. Playing a fast-paced game at 120 frames per second on a CRT is a uniquely smooth and responsive experience. It may weigh 50 pounds and take up my whole desk, but for certain games, it’s the best display in the world.
I Cleaned the “Heads” on an Old VCR to Make Tapes Play Perfectly.
A Q-Tip and Some Alcohol Can Fix a Snowy Picture
I picked up a VCR from a thrift store to watch some old tapes, but the picture was snowy and the sound was garbled. This is almost always caused by dirt and residue from old tapes building up on the VCR’s “read head,” the shiny metal drum that spins against the tape. The fix is simple but delicate. I opened a bottle of 99% isopropyl alcohol, dipped in a Q-tip, and gently held the alcohol-soaked tip against the head while manually spinning the drum. After a few rotations, the gunk was gone and my tapes played perfectly.
The “Nokia 3310” Challenge: Can I Survive a Week With It?
A Vacation from My Smartphone
I felt addicted to my smartphone, so I challenged myself to use a Nokia 3310 from the year 2000 for a full work week. It could make calls, send texts (on a number pad!), and play Snake. That’s it. The first day was terrifying—I felt disconnected and phantom vibrations in my pocket. But by day three, a sense of calm washed over me. I was more present in conversations, I read a book on my commute, and the battery lasted the entire week. It proved that most of what my smartphone does isn’t essential; it’s just noise.
How to Install Windows 95 on a Modern Machine (Virtually).
A Sandboxed Trip Back in Time
I wanted to relive the glory days of Windows 95 without having to build a whole vintage PC. The solution is virtualization. I used a free program called VirtualBox, which lets you create a “virtual computer” inside your modern one. I created a new virtual machine, assigned it a small amount of RAM and hard drive space (like 32 megabytes of RAM!), and then installed Windows 95 from an old CD. Now, anytime I want a nostalgia hit, I can just launch the program and be instantly transported back to 1995, all within a safe, sandboxed window on my desktop.
The Best Places to Find Vintage Tech for Cheap.
Skip eBay and Go Local
Everyone thinks eBay is the place for vintage tech, but it’s often overpriced. The real treasures are found locally. My number one spot is weekend garage sales, especially in older neighborhoods. People just want to get rid of “that old computer in the basement.” My second favorite is local e-waste recycling centers. Many have a “shop” or designated area where they sell testable, working equipment for pennies on the dollar to keep it out of the landfill. You have to be patient and persistent, but the deals are out there.
I’m Using a 25-Year-Old Digital Camera. The Photos are Amazing.
The Charm of a “Low-Resolution” World
Tired of the sterile, hyper-sharp images from my new smartphone, I bought a Sony Mavica camera from 1998 for $20. It saves a glorious 0.3 megapixels onto a 3.5-inch floppy disk. Each disk holds about ten photos. This limitation forces me to be incredibly deliberate about what I shoot. The low-resolution images have a soft, dreamy, and nostalgic quality that is impossible to replicate with an Instagram filter. The colors are unique, and the imperfections give the photos a soul and character that my modern camera lacks. It’s a joy to use.
How to Fix the “Click of Death” on an Old Iomega Zip Drive.
Saving a Relic from Its Inevitable Doom
In the late 90s, the Iomega Zip drive was the cool way to store data. But they were notorious for a specific failure mode: the “click of death.” When you insert a disk, you hear a rhythmic click-click-click, and the drive fails to read it. I had a drive doing just that. This is often caused by a dirty read/write head. I carefully opened the drive’s metal shell, found the head mechanism, and used a Q-tip with isopropyl alcohol to gently clean it. I put it back together, inserted a disk, and it spun up silently.
The “SCART Cable” Secret for the Best Possible Retro Game Picture.
Unlocking a Console’s True Colors
I had my old Sega Genesis hooked up to my TV with the standard RF cable that came in the box. The picture was fuzzy and blurry. Then I learned about the secret weapon of European gamers: the SCART cable. Most classic consoles were capable of outputting a high-quality RGB video signal, but this was only accessible through the large, rectangular SCART port, which was uncommon in North America. I bought a special SCART cable for my Genesis and an adapter for my modern TV. The picture quality was transformed. It was sharp, vibrant, and looked arcade-perfect.
I Replaced the “PRAM” Battery in a Classic Macintosh.
The Tiny Battery That Causes Big Problems
I had a classic Macintosh that would refuse to boot, instead showing a blinking question mark. I thought the hard drive was dead. However, the problem was much smaller: the PRAM battery. It’s a small, cylindrical battery on the logic board that keeps track of things like the date, time, and—most importantly—which disk to boot from. After 30 years, it was long dead. I found a modern replacement, soldered it in, and the computer booted right up. It’s a tiny, $5 part that can make the difference between a working classic and a paperweight.
How to Preserve Old Video Game Boxes and Manuals.
The Cardboard is as Important as the Cartridge
For collectors, the cardboard box and paper manual of a vintage game are often more valuable and harder to find than the game cartridge itself. To preserve them, I treat them like historical documents. First, I store everything in acid-free plastic box protectors to guard against shelf wear and UV light. For manuals, I keep them in a cool, dry place to prevent the pages from yellowing. For flattened boxes, I store them inside the pages of large books to keep them from getting bent or creased. It’s about preserving the entire nostalgic experience.
The Community Keeping the Amiga Computer Alive Today.
A 40-Year-Old Computer With New Software
The Commodore Amiga, first released in 1985, was years ahead of its time. I thought it was long dead, but I discovered a massive, passionate online community that still actively supports it. Talented developers are still writing new operating system updates, creating new games, and even designing new hardware upgrades like accelerator cards that make an Amiga faster than a Pentium PC. It’s a testament to the machine’s brilliant design that a global community is not just preserving it, but actively pushing it forward four decades after its release.
I’m Writing a Novel on a 1980s Word Processor.
Typing on a Green Screen Time Machine
I found a Brother Word Processor from the late 80s at a thrift store. It’s not a computer; it’s a dedicated typing machine with a built-in keyboard, a tiny monochrome CRT screen, and a floppy drive for saving. I decided to write my next novel on it. The screen shows only green text on a black background. The keyboard is incredibly clicky and satisfying. There is no internet, no distractions. The act of saving my work to a floppy disk feels deliberate and final. It’s the most focused and enjoyable writing experience I’ve ever had.
The satisfying “click” of a restored IBM Model M Keyboard.
They Don’t Make Keyboards Like This Anymore
My dad’s first office PC was an IBM PS/2 from 1988, and it came with the legendary Model M keyboard. This thing is a five-pound tank. Its secret is the “buckling spring” mechanism under each key. When you press a key, a spring buckles, causing a tiny hammer to strike a membrane. The result is an incredibly satisfying tactile feel and a loud, distinctive “CLACK” sound. I spent a weekend taking it apart, cleaning every piece, and putting it back together. Typing on it now is a joy. It’s a piece of engineering that has never been surpassed.
How to Power On and Test a Mystery Piece of Vintage Equipment.
The “Smoke Test” Protocol
When I find an unknown piece of vintage tech at a garage sale, I never just plug it in. That’s a great way to fry it. My first step is a visual inspection: I look for obvious damage, bulging capacitors, or signs of corrosion. If it looks okay, I’ll open it up and check for loose parts. If it has a fuse, I test it with a multimeter. Only then will I perform the “smoke test.” I plug it into a power strip, stand back, and flip the switch, ready to kill the power instantly if I see or smell any magic smoke.
I Connected My Apple IIe to Wi-Fi.
Giving a 40-Year-Old Computer a Wireless Life
My Apple IIe from 1983 is a workhorse, but getting software onto it via floppy disks is a pain. I wanted to connect it to the internet to download programs directly. I found a brilliant modern device called a “WiModem.” It’s a small box that plugs into the serial port of the Apple II. You connect the WiModem to your home’s Wi-Fi network. Then, on the Apple II, you use a terminal program to “dial” the modem. It connects you to old-school Bulletin Board Systems (BBSes) where you can chat and download vintage software.
The “Tube Radio” Restoration Project for Beginners.
The Warm Glow of Analog Sound
I wanted to get into restoring older electronics, and a simple tube radio from the 1950s is the perfect place to start. The circuits are simple, the components are large and easy to work with, and the schematics are widely available online. My first project was a tabletop radio I bought for $20. I learned how to safely handle the high voltages and test the vacuum tubes. After replacing a few old paper capacitors, I powered it on. The tubes started to glow warmly, and the rich, analog sound of a local AM station filled the room.
Why I Collect Old Calculators.
A Pocket History of Computing
My strangest collection is vintage calculators. Each one is a snapshot of technology at a specific moment in time. I have a huge desktop model from the 60s with mesmerizing Nixie tube displays. I have an early LED model from the 70s that cost $400 new and drained its batteries in an hour. I have a slim, solar-powered LCD model from the 80s that still works perfectly. Holding them and using them tells a physical story of the rapid miniaturization and evolution of computing power in a way that reading about it never could.
How to Maintain and Use a Vintage Film Camera.
The Joy of a Fully Mechanical Device
I inherited my grandfather’s Pentax K1000 film camera from the 1970s. It’s a completely mechanical device; the battery only powers the light meter. Using it is a deliberate, tactile process. You have to manually advance the film with a lever, focus the lens by hand, and set the aperture and shutter speed. Before using it, I had to replace the foam “light seals” inside the camera back—a common repair job to prevent light from leaking onto the film. Shooting with it is a refreshing change of pace from the instant gratification of digital.
I Found My Old Pager. Can I Make It Work Today?
A Beep from the Past
I found my old 90s pager in a junk drawer and became obsessed with a single question: could I make it receive a message in the 2020s? The original paging networks are long gone. But the pager itself just listens for a specific radio frequency. I discovered a community of hobbyists who use a small, low-power radio transmitter connected to a computer to create their own personal paging networks. After some programming, I sent a command from my laptop, and a moment later, the pager on my desk buzzed to life with the message “HELLO WORLD.”
The “A-to-D” Converter: Bridging the Gap Between Old and New Audio.
Getting My Mixtapes into My Spotify Playlists
I have a treasure trove of old audio: cassette tapes, vinyl records, and even some old reel-to-reel tapes. To preserve them and listen on my modern devices, I needed to bridge the analog-to-digital gap. The key is an Analog-to-Digital Converter (ADC). It’s a small box that takes the audio output from my old tape deck or turntable and converts it into a digital signal that my computer can understand via USB. Using free software like Audacity, I can capture this signal, clean it up, and save it as an MP3, adding my old mixtapes to my digital library.
The History of a Forgotten Tech Giant, Told Through Its Old Products.
The Rise and Fall of Palm, Inc.
I was fascinated by Palm, the company that created the first successful PDA. To understand their story, I started collecting their products. I began with the original Palm Pilot 1000 from 1996. Then I acquired the sleek, metal Palm V, the color-screened Palm IIIc, and a Treo 650, one of the first true smartphones. Holding each device, you can feel the innovation, but also the missteps as they tried to compete with BlackBerry and the iPhone. My collection isn’t just a pile of gadgets; it’s a physical timeline of the rise and fall of a tech giant.
How to Turn an Old Car Radio into a Bluetooth Boombox.
Giving a Dashboard a Second Life
I found a beautiful chrome car radio from a 1970s Ford at a junkyard. It was too cool to leave behind. I decided to turn it into a portable Bluetooth speaker. First, I built a simple wooden box to house it. Then I used an old PC power supply to provide the 12 volts it needed to operate. The final and most important piece was a tiny, cheap Bluetooth receiver module. I soldered the audio output from the Bluetooth module directly into the radio’s volume control potentiometer. Now I have a unique, retro-styled boombox for my workshop.
The “Demoscene”: Pushing Vintage Hardware to Its Absolute Limits.
Creating Movie-Quality Graphics on a 1985 Computer
I discovered the demoscene, a subculture of computer art where programmers create stunning audio-visual presentations on vintage hardware. They compete to push machines like the Commodore 64 and Amiga to do things their creators never dreamed possible. I watched a demo that had 3D graphics and digital music running on a computer with only 64 kilobytes of RAM. These programmers use every trick and hardware quirk to achieve the impossible. It’s a vibrant, creative community that treats programming not just as a skill, but as a competitive art form.
I’m Building a Library of Old Tech Manuals and Schematics.
Preserving the Paper Trail of Technology
Whenever I get a new piece of vintage tech, the first thing I search for is its original user manual and service schematic. These documents are often more valuable than the hardware itself for repair and preservation. I’ve started building my own digital library. I scan every paper manual I find and upload it to the Internet Archive to share with other enthusiasts. This collective effort ensures that the knowledge needed to keep these old machines running isn’t lost to time. It’s a form of digital archeology, preserving the paper trail of our technological past.
The “Atari 2600” Repair Guide for Dummies.
Fixing a 40-Year-Old Game Console
The Atari 2600 is often the first vintage console people try to repair. It’s built like a tank, but it has common failure points. If the screen is black, the first thing to check is the power adapter. If the games are glitchy, the problem is almost always a dirty cartridge slot. I use a credit card wrapped in a microfiber cloth with some isopropyl alcohol to scrub the internal pins. And if the controllers aren’t working, it’s usually a broken wire right where the cable enters the plug, which is a simple soldering fix.
How to Tell if a Piece of Vintage Tech is “Rare” or Just “Old.”
The Value is in the Story, Not Just the Age
In my early days of collecting, I thought anything from the 80s was valuable. I quickly learned that “old” does not equal “rare.” A common Commodore 64, of which 17 million were made, is just old. But a Commodore 65, a prototype of which only a few hundred exist, is rare. The key factors are production numbers, historical significance (was it the first of its kind?), its condition, and whether it has its original packaging. A pristine, boxed example of a common machine can be more valuable than a rare but damaged one.
The “Museum” in My Basement: A Tour of My Vintage Collection.
Every Machine Has a Story
My basement has become a small, interactive museum of personal computing. On one shelf, I have an Apple IIe, representing the dawn of home computing. Next to it is a Commodore 64, its rival. I have an original Macintosh, which introduced the world to the graphical user interface. There’s a 90s ThinkPad showing the birth of the modern laptop, and a Palm Pilot representing the PDA boom. I keep them all in working order. When friends visit, I don’t just show them the machines; I let them boot them up and experience computing history firsthand.
The Ethical Debate Around “Modding” vs. “Preserving” Vintage Tech.
To Cut, or Not to Cut?
In the vintage tech community, there’s a passionate debate. On one side are the “preservationists,” who believe classic hardware should be kept 100% original, down to the last screw. On the other side are the “modders,” who love adding modern upgrades like new screens, storage, and ports. I fall somewhere in the middle. My rule is that any modification I make must be completely reversible. I’ll install a new screen in my Game Boy, but I won’t cut the original plastic shell to make it fit. It’s a way to enhance the experience without destroying the history.
I Used a 1990s GPS Unit to Navigate a Modern City.
A Journey With a Garmin StreetPilot
I wanted to see what navigation was like before smartphones. I bought a Garmin StreetPilot from the late 90s. It has a chunky, monochrome screen and can only hold a small map area at a time; I had to load the city map from a PC using a serial cable. There’s no voice navigation, just a simple line on the screen and a “beep” when you need to turn. Driving with it was an exercise in trust and paying attention. It was slow and clumsy, but it never lost its signal and it got me there.
How to Transfer Files Using a “Null Modem” Cable.
The Original Peer-to-Peer Network
Before USB drives and Wi-Fi, getting a file from one computer to another often involved a “null modem” cable. It was a special serial cable that tricked two computers into thinking they were talking to each other over a modem. I used one to transfer text files from my old DOS laptop to my modern PC. I had to run a terminal program on both machines, manually set the same communication speed (like 9600 baud), and initiate the file transfer. It was slow and clunky, but watching the text scroll across the screen felt like true, old-school hacking.
The Feeling of Booting Up a Computer You Haven’t Seen in 20 Years.
A Flood of Digital Memories
My friend found his family’s old Packard Bell PC from 1997. It hadn’t been turned on since 2001. We plugged it in, and after a few grinding noises from the hard drive, it booted into Windows 95. The moment the desktop appeared, he was flooded with memories. There was his old school project in a folder, his custom desktop wallpaper, and the icons for games like SimCity 2000. It wasn’t just a machine; it was a perfect digital time capsule of his teenage years. The sound of the startup chime was the sound of his childhood.