Retro Thing

My "New" Retro TV

I've got a number of old TV's around (probably too many!) that I've shared with you in the past. The oldest ones either don't work, or I'm too fearful to plug them in so I'll never know. However my newest acquisition not only works, but is the most intact of all of my retro TV sets. Why? Because it had been built into a wall for the last 50 years.

Getting a television to blend into home decor has always been tough, especially as viewers desired larger displays. My mother isn't a technological prognosticator, or even a fan of electronic anything, but for decades she has wished for a thin television. Her friends scoffed, but now jokingly admit that she "invented" flat panel TVs. I love the new breed of slim televisions (my 32" CRT was a cow) that offer a large picture without necessarily dominating a room. In the past if you wanted your TV to blend in, you had to take elaborate measures.

I was at an estate sale not long ago inside one of the finest retro houses I've ever seen. This family clearly took care of their home, and the decor and furnishings looked almost untouched since the 50's. Their basement was in the top 5 best 1950's rec rooms I've ever seen, one of the best features being the television built into the wall. I'd only ever seen that pulled off in fancy home improvement magazines, but the handyman patriarch of the family figured he could build his own.

The TV made its home in the wall for decades, which not only gave the room a sophisticated look, but also preserved the television set itself from decades of sunlight & scratches. The family was hesitant to sell me the TV as they thought I was proposing to tear the wall down! Fortunately the trim was only press fitted into place, so it was an easy job to take the still-functioning Philco 22C4011X home with me. Now to just hook up a DTV tuner, and this old TV will live on for decades more.

links:
Video sharing some old TV's left behind in the DTV transition
Break The TV Habit By Watching A TV/Waterfall/Clock
Westinghouse Portable TV Mystery

Devo Demonstrates LaserDisc - 1984

Devo say it themselves in this 1984 video, it's their job to stay up on the latest technology. This footage is from an in-store demo LaserDisc hosted by the Ohio boys showcasing the superiority of LaserDisc over VHS. One of the sales tacks that Pioneer took with their beloved LD format was to say that it's video for those who care about audio. Of course LD never really took off as it was always quite a bit more expensive than VHS, offered few rental titles, and of course the discs weren't recordable. Later Pioneer marketed the LD format mostly to cinephiles, with letterboxed films often appearing only on laser (which makes it funny that they only use full frame 4:3 footage in this demo disc).

Devo finds ways to make this testimonial into more of a performance, kudos to them on that. However I have to add that while having Devo as folksy pitchmen might work on me, I'm part of the rather small "weirdo" demographic. Those of us with our foil hats and Amigas weren't enough of a market to save poor old LaserDisc. It wouldn't be until the DVD era that a non-recordable video format would co-exist happily with VHS & DVR Recorders.

related:
More information about latter day LaserDisc
LaserActive LD based video game system
25th anniversary of Dragon's Lair - the first LD based video game

Adding Set-Top Box To Your TV Is Nothing New

Today there's a battle raging for the top of your TV set - metaphorically speaking. it's no longer enough to just have a television. You need add-on hardware to bring your TV additional services like cable and even the internet. I find the continued use of the term "set-top box" amusing since new televisions are far too narrow to balance anything on anymore.

There are plenty of new media moguls duking it out for this new bit of media real-estate (along with the genuine real-estate in your entertainment center), but this battle isn't as cutting edge as many might think. In the 70's and 80's, cable subscribers received set-top boxes that were additional tuners to bring in all of those snazzy new cable channels, and even decode the special shows that only *ahem* ran after dark. That's not the beginning either. Set-top boxes go back even further, almost to the earliest days of television.

Early TVs had VHF tuners that could only receive channels 2-13. It didn't take long to see that this TV fad was going to stick around for a while, and that there was a genuine need for more channels. The only way to create new channels was to broadcast on the UHF band. The problem for these new broadcasters was that TV's weren't required by law to build in UHF tuners until the All-Channel Receiver Act of 1962. So TV fans had to rely on external UHF converters like this unit from Johnson.

This is frankly a cheapie. Dark plastic with swirled in colors to give a vaguely woodgrain effect. Earlier units were actually quite lovely, some Bakelite beauties have the good look of classic radios (check out this awesome collection), but not my Johnson. This workaday unit was set up to pass the VHF signal, until you turn the serious-looking UHF knob on. You tune the channels via the control on the right which oddly enough does not click between channels. You just have to slide it into place and hope for the best. I imagine a lot of knob twiddling to get the reception just right. 

I don't know the year of this particular converter, but I do know that UHF converters were still available into the 1970's if you were still stubbornly holding onto your VHF-only TV. Of course for those of us still watching TV on CRT televisions these days, we all had to get our own external set-top tuner boxes to benefit from the digital broadcast changeover. When we did, we joined a long history of external TV upgrades that are almost as old as TV itself.

Curtis Mathes - The Most Expensive TVs In America

 
Curtis Mathes is one of those brands that's been around forever, but isn't necessarily a household name. This old black & white television is from the company's earlier days when they were still making TV's in the US (they were actually the last fully US owned electronics company when they closed their doors in 1988). Curtis Mathes used to be a private label brand that billed itself as "The most expensive television set in America; and darn well worth it", and were only sold through special channels. Sometimes they had stand-alone stores that sold CM product exclusively. In my neighborhood Curtis Mathes equipment came from the hardware store.

I was most aware of the brand when the home video market really warmed up in the late 70's/early 80's.  Curtis Mathes was there with their own branded VCR's and TV's. They were quite a bit more expensive than other brands, and the TV commercials were quite proud of the very long 4 year warranty included in the price. So these appliances must have been very special, right?

While CM started out making their own TV's, by the 80's they were re-branding electronics from Matsushita, Daewoo, Pioneer, and more. This wasn't an unusual practice since many large retailers also rebranded electronics to sell under their own banner (usually the strategy was that you could get the same Panasonic VCR cheaper if it was branded for JC Penny). While CM joined in the relabeling game, my Curtis Mathes store they heavily implied that there was something extra special about the products they were offering and priced it accordingly. The approach must have worked as I know people who still think of Curtis Mathes as being a deluxe brand experience. After losing their last US factory in the late 80's, Curtis Mathes became a bit of a zombie brand. America's most expensive television became the in-house label for Kmart electronics in the late 90's.

As for this classic black and white 10M070 TV, I couldn't get it to power up. It could just be that the switch is broken, but the whole thing could be kaput. Neither would be surprising given how old the TV is. The thing that left me scratching my head is that this TV is from a time when CM was heralding their American roots in their advertising, yet this model was made in Japan.

Among TV collectors, opinions of CM engineering are definitely split. I read a few  online message board postings claiming that many old CM televisions weren't even custom engineered, that they were simply rebranded Zenith units (which would actually be good news given the high quality of that brand), or that the internals seemed to be sourced from multiple big name vendors. That's where I first saw this argument between those who think that CM is something special, versus those who think that's it's always been rebranded overpriced junk. Since I never had a Curtis Mathes product, I don't have a dog in this fight - but it does remind me of the power the kind of (dare I say it?) passion that brands can arouse in people.

The legend of Curtis Mathes lives on. The brand is being used to sell HD televisions, Blu-Ray players, and wooden home entertainment cabinets today. I don't know whether they are still positioning themselves as being expensive and worthwhile. Given how competitive the world of consumer electronics is, that would seem to be an unwise course to take (and I doubt it since their brand is represented in big box stores such as Wal-mart).

Does CM still have the ability to pull in customers based on memories of the old brand? I suppose that if I had grown up around Curtis Mathes (we were a Toshiba family, oddly enough) and their self-appointed reputation for quality, I might lean in that direction when buying a television even today... and nothing makes marketers happier than when consumers choose products not only with their wallets, but also their hearts.

Sony EV-C200 Hi-8 VCR Never Had A Chance

Once the VHS vs. Beta wars of the 80's finally died down, Sony took another crack at a compact video format with Video8. Roughly the size of an audio cassette, Video8 delivered somewhat better visual quality than VHS. More importantly, it meant camcorders could get considerably smaller. Video cameras were where Video8 ruled, but the format never gained much success for TV recording or movie rentals, though Sony tried really hard with VCR's like the EV-C200.

Later Sony found a way to double the video quality of Video8 to just about the same as broadcast television (VHS is less than half of that). The thinking was that they could attract a more demanding videophile crowd with this new "Hi8" format. That never really happened either, but Hi8 found a home in the emerging field of desktop video production. So a new type of customer - the "prosumer" - emerged, using Hi8 as a way to shoot videos that looked as good as broadcast TV.

Hi8 gear could outperform professional equipment at a fraction of the pro price, but it did suffer a few issues. The tape was very susceptible to dropout, so it was a poor choice for editing - though some soldiered on with the kicky EVO9700 dual deck unit from Sony. So the preferred method was to shoot on Hi8, but then transfer to a more stable video format (or perhaps an early editing computer) for the actual editing, sadly losing a little quality when dubbing.

Hi8 decks like the EV-C200 were rare since so many people simply used their camcorders for playback, which has had unfortunate consequences. A lot of Hi8 gear just doesn't work anymore. Perhaps it's the smaller size, the tight tolerances, but when I've run into Hi8 equipment in recent years it has almost always croaked. Decks like my EV-C200 were never very popular to begin with, which may explain why this simple (except for the built in Faroudja time base corrector circuitry) 15 year old VCR still gets a couple hundred bucks on Ebay.

Sony still hasn't quite given up on Video8. In the shadow of the digital video revolution, they introduced "Digital8" in 1999. It uses the same DV codec as miniDV cameras, it's just that the hardware is targeted at budget minded consumers. Digital8 is also disappearing, but the good news is that the equipment is backwards compatible so you can still play back your old Video8 and Hi8 tapes to digitize them to your computer via firewire..

It's all a reminder of just how fragile our video taped memories can be. If you have material you want to save, now is the time to get it cleaned up and digitized onto your computer.

Ode To Videotape

I really miss my VCR. It still lives under the TV in the living room, but it's only been used once this year. The reason is simple -- it can't record modern HD digital signals, making it absolutely useless. As the parent of a young child, I used to time-shift a lot.

I know I could buy a Tivo, but I'm reluctant to sign up for yet another service that demands a monthly fee. And Blu-ray recorders still haven't caught on, thanks to multi-thousand dollar price tags. That leaves me with few options (and no, I don't want the 'fun' of maintaining and debugging a media PC that has to work flawlessly to keep my family happy).

The reaction in my household was simple. Since we can't record stuff, we started skipping episodes. And, eventually, we found ourselves skipping entire shows. It got to the point where we realized just after Christmas that we weren't watching TV at all. So we suspended our satellite service.

Technology companies have finally succeeded in removing the record button from the living room, something they've wanted since the dawn of home taping. They're happy to offer à la carte viewing at exorbitant prices -- who in their right mind honestly believes that a single 40 minute episode of House should cost $3.49? I've grabbed a handful of episodes from iTunes, but it's too costly to do that on a regular basis.

So we do without. By making it harder to record shows, the major networks and cable companies have made their product so awkward and costly that people are looking elsewhere for entertainment.

Former viewers are venturing out to 3D movies, attending Maker Faires, exploring sites like this one, learning new hobbies and spending more time discovering quirky bands on YouTube.

Ironically, the media conglomerates are too greedy to realize what they've done. They blame declining viewership on copyright infringement and piracy, not their own missteps. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off for a bike ride...

There Are "Ironclad" Warranties, And Then There's...

Back in the 80's, before the superstores really took over, a lot of electronics came from local dealerships. A few bought advertising time on local TV stations, but I've never seen a spot like this. Is this commercial for real? Looks like it is. This is Joe Pierre who takes an informal approach in this local TV commercial for his electronics business in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He invites viewers to come down and check out the latest cassette Walkman - and check out that back wall with even more 80's gear.

Pierre's business promises that they service what they sell. He purrs in the direction of the Walkman, promising that they will "fix the little turkey if it breaks down". You know what? I believe him. In my electronics shopping career, the best service has come from small, locally owned electronics businesses. I've gotten some of my best deals that way too.

Big box stores are great if you know exactly what you want, and don't have any customer service expectations (either before or after the sale). But if I'm buying something that really matters, something that I really want to last, going local still feels right to me. Obviously caveat emptor still applies (don't get me started on the guy who's been "repairing" one of my turntables for the last 7 years), but if you shop around you can still find those dealers who specialize in their product, have actual useful advice, and know the value of your business.

To quote Joe, "That's worth something, isn't it?"

Glasses Case Celebrates Ruining Your Eyes Watching TV

 
I'm so lost. Have you noticed how the meaning of the word "irony" has been eroding lately? People are labeing countless situations "ironic", whether it's someone getting their just desserts, or witnessing something I'd simply call humorously apropos. So it is with some trepidation at this amateur expansion of the definition, I ask you to help me decide whether this eyeglass case is ironic or not?

From the printed-on art, I think we can guess that this is from the early 60's, but it might be slightly older. Actually, there's something almost timeless about it. Children have their butts firmly rooted to the flooor, fascinated before the glassy gods of television - as they still do. Tilting the glasses case brings the TV to life via 5 frames of an animated lenticular cartoon; a little man on a unicycle. The kids are immobile, while the television unspools hour after hour of cyclic fascination of dubious value - as it still does. 

Certainly at some point mom leaned out of the kitchen warning the kids about their proximity to the TV. "You'll ruin your eyes! You don't want to wear glasses for the rest of your life, do you?". There, my friends, is where I think the sweet irony lay. The kids are commuted to a life sentence of wearing glasses, every night slipping them into the cruel glasses case that's a constant reminder of what they did in the name of TV.

Ironic, isn't it?

Break The TV Habit By Watching A TV/Waterfall/Clock

 
TV kitsch is no stranger to the pages of Retro Thing. Even after TV had been around for a while, lots of TV-shaped things celebrated the ol' boob tube for those who wanted to spend even more time thinking about the miracle of television. This TV/Waterfall/clock is an amusing collision of ideas that probably had just as many people scratching their heads back then as it does now.

About the size of a 1960's portable TV, this clock hangs several inches off of the wall, the woodgrain sides giving the fake TV a realistic depth. The clock is ordinary enough, but it's the "broadcast" that's of interest. This now faded waterfall picture is not only backlit, but using polarization effects actually has an animated waterfall! It's like those old bar signs, where you can see alternating stripes of light and dark animate behind a backlit picture (also used to great effect in Star Trek: The Next Generation for their control panel displays).

I haven't been brave enough to hang this up yet. Having a prop TV hanging off the wall just looks a bit odd. Similar animated light "paintings" are still available today, and are much thinner than this one. Is there any chance anyone will make one soon that looks like a flat panel HD television?

related:

TV coin bank, salt & pepper shakers
Classic Westinghouse portable TV
GE's enormous widescreen TV from 1978

Sony Universal Remote Inspired By Star Trek?

I still have my 32" CRT Sony television that I bought in the early 90's - one of my first "grown up" purchases. It's a great TV set that still pumps out a great picture (contrast looks great since Sony tinted the glass used in some of their picture tubes to darken their natural neutral grey color) even after nearly 20 years of daily use. I got it at a great price since it was the last one (you know I love a bargain), but the remote was missing. I didn't care much, but the clerk enthused about the "Star Trek clicker".

Sony wanted $50+ for the remote but I cajoled them into sending it gratis. I asked about this Star Trek reference, and the lady on the phone said "yeah, I guess so", but wouldn't say anything more. I had to wait until the RM-Y119 arrived. It was my first universal remote (which I could never get to talk to other devices, as usual), and it did have an unmistakable resemblance to the communicator from the classic Star Trek series. In its closed state, you've got a few large buttons for channel and volume control. Hit the button on the side, and the spring loaded flap swings open to reveal everything else you need to operate the TV. Trek fans often cite flip-open cell phones as being inspired by the communicators from the TV show. Maybe so, but this universal remote would also make Scotty proud.

At the time, remotes were getting more and more complex as the televisions (irritatingly) had fewer and fewer physical controls onboard. This led to larger and more awkward remotes (wait till you see the nightmare that runs my laserdisc player!), but a few companies figured out that the viewer typically only uses a few buttons day to day. The solution I'd seen back then was bundling two separate remotes with each device. One large remote bristling with every kind of knob, and then a much smaller one with a reduced set of controls.

With the trouble that most people have keeping track of a single remote, doubling that number wasn't a popular solution. Not only does Sony's RM-Y119 look slick, but it's an elegant solution to the problem. It's unfortunate that this didn't become the norm. I have a coffee table full of remotes engineered by sadists who only begrudgingly acknowledge potential human interaction. I doubly curse those credit-card sized remotes with the little plastic dimples you pucker top operate (these easy to lose remotes usually accompany appliances rendered useless without their teeny tiny remotes).

The remote control is how we relate with our electronics every day, but it's rare to encounter one that gives any thoughts to ergonomics or aesthetics. This Sony remote solves a number of these problems neatly, and has endured a lot of use in our relationship. Sony has had their share of misses to in the usability department in years before and since, but every once in a while they get it exactly right.

If you'd like to get a Star Trek remote of your own, there was a universal remote in the mid 90's modeled after the phaser gun from "The Next Generation". They turn up on Amazon and Ebay from time to time.

Star Trek remote on Amazon
Star Trek remote on Ebay

related:
Too many buttons on your remote?
Ominous looking Radio Shack remote control extender
Calculator watch + universal remote

Pocket TV Was An Internet Meme Decades Too Soon

There's nothing remarkable about this Citizen LCD TV these days. When it rolled out in the 80's, carrying broadcast TV around in your pocket was really something. Today's portable video devices do a lot more at a much smaller size (though I've yet to find one that receives over-the-air broadcasts yet). I can't use this TV much anymore since the US digital TV changeover, yet even now this little TV can still make me laugh.

What makes me smile when I look at this TV is the logo in the corner for ORLY. It wasn't uncommon for these TV's to be used as special promotional items, so it's not surprising to see a corporate logo on one. I don't know who ORLY was back then (possibly related to the ORLY cosmetics company today?), but I know what "ORLY" means now. It's one of those internet memes that went from deeply obscure to almost a cliche.

If you hang out in internet discussion groups, you may have seen "image macros". They are usually a provocative or funny photo with a string of jokey text superimposed. One of the most popular has been "O RLY" written in big friendly letters beneath a funny picture of an owl. It's a sarcastic barb that translates into "Oh, really?". Simply ctrl+C this to someone, and you've immediately established your superiority for a few microseconds before your inbox gets letterbombed.

It makes me smirk to see a meme reach across the decades to touch an unrelated product. Obviously it's just a coincidence, but a fun one. I also wonder how many microsceconds before the picture of my little TV ends up used on some messageboard. Here's one version to get you started...

 

related:
Portable TV's get left behind in digital switch

"Thumbs Up" For Hands-On Video Editing, Even If You're All Thumbs

 
An alarming number of years ago I worked for one of the first companies to create a digital video editing machine that was easy to use. Try to remember a time before iMovie and Firewire et al had come along to make video really accessible to the masses. Even in the late-ish 90's, computer based video meant lots of hardware jiggery-pokery, and long waits while computers generated even the most basic edits and effects.

What the boss of that company really wanted was a sophisticated editor that was as easy to use as the Videonics Thumbs Up (rebadged Radio Shack version pictured here) editor from the early 90's. At that point, editing video meant synchronizing two video decks and selectively copying clips from one to another. For professionals, this expensive enterprise entailed special VCR's and a Rube-Goldberg rat's nest of wires. For amateurs it meant finding a pair of VHS VCR's with Flying Erase Heads (a nifty band name?) to keep the picture free of blemishes during cuts. You also needed quick thumbs to pause and unpause the decks, hoping that the edits would somehow happen where you wanted them to.

The Thumbs Up editor solved a number of problems when editing with consumer gear, while keeping the process rather simple. The device controlled a camcorder and VCR, allowing you to review your master tape and chose segments to copy as part of your project. All of this happened with a much higher degree of control than the ol' two-thumbs method.

Speaking of thumbs, to select scenes for your final edit you'd hit the "thumbs up" button at the beginning, and "thumbs down" when it was over. You could buffer 62 edit decisions in the unit itself, which would then cleverly take control of both VCR's to execute your edits automatically while you pop the popcorn for premiere night.

The chunkiness of the design and the beguiling simplicity of the few buttons concealed the sophisticated goings-on within. The Thumbs Up was an early device to display commands on the television for much better workflow than a single blinking light or some LED digits. You could fade to black during edits, and the device even included an enhancement circuit to help compensate for the loss of image quality during the dubbing process.

This might sound a bit too simple for a $200 device now, but in 1992 being able to assemble video with this degree of automation for that little was quite a feat. Determined amateurs went the extra mile and edited in some home computer generated graphics to join the earliest generations of home video pros. Today it's easier than ever for an amateur to edit video with a level of sophistication miles away from the Thumbs Up video editor. We live in a time where communicating with video is easier and more accessible than ever, with only a few notable and inexcusable exceptions (Microsoft Movie Maker, I'm looking at you...)

related:

Kalart movie editor in bright red
The agony of film editing
Slate your movies - just like the pros!

BT's Vision of the Future

Back in 1969, some boffins from the Post Office research station at Dollis Hill put together their vision of telecommunication in the 1990s. It is darkly disturbing, especially the notion that telecommuting workers would strut around the house in a suit and tie while coldly brushing off an army of annoying children. These days, we just toss the little sprogs outside and let them fend for themselves.

Incidentally, Colossus -- the top secret code-breaking computer that cracked the German Lorenz ciphers during World War II -- was also created at Dollis Hill.

GPO (BT) Vision of the Future [YouTube]

Record TV All Day Long With A TDK Six Pack Of VHS Tapes

One of the great thing about TiVo-type DVR's is that you can, in the words of TV junk impresario Ron Popeil, "set it and forget it". The hard drive inside can often hold dozens of hours of video. If you're a sports fan or want to record every episode of a TV series, it's a no-brainer.

I don't miss the days of having to keep a steady stock of VHS tapes around for the same purpose. I was admittedly obsessive about recording every episode of some shows, so I'd have several tapes going that I'd have to shuffle between over the course of months. My favorite record speed was "LP" the 4 hour mode; a good compromise between image quality and how much I could fit on a tape. By the 90's most VCR's weren't equipped to record in that mode anymore. Pretty much everyone was content to record at the slowest EP speed that fit six hours of smeary video onto a single cassette. I shouldn't complain. It's those long record times that helped win the war between VHS & Beta.

Here's a pre-packaged set of six TDK videos designed to capitalize on that idea. Sold as a "Special Event 6-Pack" back in 1980, this case packs a half-dozen "super avilyn" formulated VHS tapes (a tape formulation they used well into the 90's). From the graphics on the box, I think that they're cashing in on 1980 being an Olympic year. These TDK tapes were among my favorites to use back in the 80's. The tapes were really solid performers, and (I feel a little odd saying this) I really liked the cardboard sleeve. The matte cardstock and unmistakably 80's "tech" graphics looked pretty sophisticated, and there was a well though out space to list the contents of the tape. Eventually the cardboard sleeves became quite flimsy, as did the cassettes shells themselves... but back in the 6-pack days TDK's were king.

I recall blank tapes being sold at retail in packs of 2 or 3 in the late 80's, but never a six pack in elaborate branded packaging like this (with a plastic handle yet!). A six pack of tapes would have been on the expensive side in 1980. I remember paying nearly $20 for my first VHS cassette (yes... I still have it) in 1984, so what would a six-pack of a higher end brand cost?

Perhaps this pack was sold by a discount warehouse club type store back then, but I think it still would have been a pricey proposition. For this reason (and I admit to feeling silly predicting this now) when there are VHS collectors someday I think this little oddity could be interesting to them. Then again, perhaps I'm being a little too precious about a box of everyman blank media. The person who originally bought this pack wasn't thinking into the future beyond the many hours of TV he was about to record. He probably left the store with this six-pack of VHS tapes under one arm, and a six-pack of something even more fun under the other.

related:

VHS vs. DVD
Did you know the first VHS camcorder was bright red?
ION USB VCR - last chance to "be kind & rewind"

Sir Clive's really small TV

Sir Clive Sinclair has a never-ending fascination with small things. He started with pocket radios, moved on to pocket calculators, and released a line of really small computers in the 1980s. It stands to reason that he'd also try his hand at really tiny TV.

Sinclair released the MTV-1 Micro TV in 1978. It featured a minuscule 2-inch B&W tube and included a built-in rechargeable battery pack. Sinclair had a tradition of employing UK-based manufacturers to produce his goods and he chose Welsh manufacturer Wolsey Electronics for this product line.

The MTV-1 was incredibly small by late 1970s standards: it measured a mere 4 x 6 1/4 x 1 5/8 inches (102 x 159 x 41 mm). Not exactly small enough to fit in a pocket, but definitely compact enough to slip into a bag or toss into the back of a car. The Micro TV also earned the distinction of being the world's first multistandard TV. It shipped with the ability to switch between European PAL and North American NTSC television standards, making it ideal for gadget-hungry jet setters.

It's obvious that a lot of thought went into this tiny marvel. In fact, it took over ten expensive years to bring it to market. Sinclair was often on the bleeding edge of product development; an exciting and astronomically expensive place to be. Sinclair Radionics Ltd (his original company) raised over £1.6m from the UK government to finish MTV-1 development in 1976.

Unfortunately, the price tag ($395 in the USA) was too much for a toy television and the company lost more than £1.8m in 1978. By 1979, companies like JS&A were buying up remaining inventory at fire sale prices. Sinclair quickly started a new company -- Sinclair Research -- that produced a brilliant lineup of dirt-cheap home computers.

Micro TV Breakthrough (JS&A Surplus Ad via Modern Mechanix)

Previous Sinclair posts:
Your Chance to Build a New Sinclair ZX81
A £7 Million Toy Car
Sinclair QL
Timex/Sinclair 1500
Cambridge Z88