I'm typing this out on my recently acquired IBM Model M. It's currently missing one of the removable stems that rests between a keycap and the membrane underneath, as well as a cap for the "1" key on the number pad. The replacement parts are on the way and once that's settled, my new-old keyboard will be in perfect condition—at least, perfect to me. I wasn't exactly sure if I'd enjoy typing with buckling springs; while I'm far from inexperienced with mechanical keyboards, there's a noticeable difference between Cherry MX switches and this particular technology from four decades ago. After a bit of getting used to, I'm happy to report that this board feels fantastic for everything I'll ever need it for.
I can't deny that I've been on an extended retro technology kick lately. Early on in the month, I found a seller in my local area willing to part with a 19-inch Gateway CRT computer monitor and I just had to jump at the chance. It's in great physical condition and the visual experience is honestly like nothing I can remember, even from my childhood. Later this week, I'm planning on setting aside an afternoon to discharge it, clean it up and inspect the insides thoroughly so I can ensure it's in good working condition for what will hopefully be a long time (if you know anything about CRT repair, well, let's just say that hopefully this isn't the last time you hear from me). The IBM keyboard was ordered not long afterward when I found an unbeatable deal online, better than anything else I'd seen in my admittedly brief searches. Even with a couple of parts missing, the initial price more than made up for whatever extra add-ons would be required.
Unbelievably, about a week and a half later, I scored a 27-inch Sony Trinitron CRT television for free. It's a hulking beast of a thing to carry up the stairs, no doubt about it. I'd still carry it up however many stairs it would take, because this is the greatest looking CRT TV I've ever owned—it's not particularly close. Access to component video and a large, clear picture makes this the ideal game room TV for all my retro consoles. I've been slowly adding more stuff to my PS2 and Wii, complementary systems that fill almost every gap I'd need when they are in a fully modded state. I just got an adapter in today that lets me use my arcade stick and nearly any other controller I own on the PS2. I tinkered a bit more with the Wii to have it boot straight into the Homebrew Channel as well as play 4:3 video content on the CRT using the WiiMC media player app. With the exciting developments around Bad Update on the Xbox 360, I definitely had to set aside an entire week's worth of free time to tinker with one of my systems and get it working as well as could be hoped. After a while, I decided it would be best to acquire an RGHed Xbox 360, and found somebody online who'd sell it for a great price. It should arrive tomorrow if all goes well!
If it seems like all I have to talk about is a bunch of old junk I bought on the internet, well, that's pretty much the entirety of what has occupied my mind lately. I'm straddling a line between the pursuit of little upgrades to my retro tech collection and a daydream-like haze, a land of bubbly nostalgia, though, I'm not sure if nostalgia is the right word to describe what's driving me to hoard all these old computers and video game systems. I genuinely get a lot of enjoyment from using this stuff today, even over modern alternatives that should theoretically be superior. It all feels new and fresh to me, mostly because it is.
Still, I can't deny that escapism lies near the root of what motivates me. It's a rough world out there and it's not poised to get better anytime soon. Since most of these objects I acquired in April 2025 are from the distant past, they hold an inextricable link to my past, the context I existed in when these things were more current. I used to feel more secure in this world, things felt more sure, there was always a logical path forward. It's clear to me now that this security was always coupled with a sheltered existence. I've long had this faint inkling in the back of my mind that I didn't get to experience a lot of what other normal kids got to experience on their way to becoming well-adjusted adults. It's a silly thing to think looking back; my childhood was far from lacking in terms of positive experiences. I guess it just comes down to what you value in this life, without regard for what others want for you.
The truth is, I'll always feel like I need to play catch up with other people. Is it possible to be nostalgic for an experience you missed out on? Can you learn to be okay with never getting to see everything the world has to offer?