The Computer Lab

My first brush with computer games was way back in kindergarten. To this day, I swear I can still smell the mix of hot plastic and ancient carpet that lingered in the school’s furnace of a computer lab.

One afternoon, while we were all scribbling away in some paint program, my attention wandered to our teacher sliding a huge floppy disk into her computer. I was locked in as this green, digital map suddenly popped onto her monitor. Tiny characters at the bottom were busy working under these futuristic (for the time, at least) computers, pounding away at their keyboards. Words began typing themselves in bright yellow across the screen. Though from where I sat, I couldn't quite make out the message.

Next thing I knew, she was piloting a bright yellow submarine, skillfully dodging pixelated baddies to reach new sections of the level.

I was hooked.

In later grades, we had one single classroom computer that became the bone of contention between me and this girl during indoor recess. Eventually, the teacher made us share. It was there, sitting next to my nemesis, that I discovered an incredible treasure trove of games: Cosmo's Cosmic Adventure, Word Rescue, Math Rescue, and Super Solvers: Treasure Mountain. These games were beautiful like nuclear rainbows that might actually burn your retinas if you stared too long.

What I (and my nemesis) didn’t know back then was the tech powering these games had its own rich history. That very same room, with its peculiar scent of overheating plastic and musty carpet, was showcasing hardware that had started evolving years before I was even born.

In October 1984, IBM introduced the Enhanced Graphics Adapter, better known as EGA. I wouldn't show up on the planet for another two years. By the time I was taking my first wobbly steps, EGA was already on its way out, soon replaced entirely by the more advanced Video Graphics Array–or VGA as everyone knows it.

Even though the EGA was a bit before my time, those early computer lab visits left me hopelessly nostalgic. The games I loved so much were built around the EGA’s unique 16-color palette. They etched themselves into my memory, far beyond the walls of that overheated lab. When my family finally got a computer at home in '94, I quickly realized I could download similar games thanks to this strange new thing called "The World Wide Web."

Prior to EGA, there was something called the Color Graphics Adapter—or CGA—which could only manage a mere 4 colors simultaneously in 320x200 resolution, unless you dropped down even further to 160x100. Admittedly, that super mega low-res look had its charm, chunky and pixelated enough to pull off something genuinely cool. But having completely missed the CGA era myself, it doesn't hold quite the same pull for me (maybe someday I might explore it).

So how big an upgrade was EGA from CGA? Not earth-shattering, but it could crank out 16 colors in a crisp 320x200 resolution. It might not sound impressive today, but those limitations gave rise to a distinct visual style that is forever ingrained in me.

As a kid who wasn't allowed a Super Nintendo, but whose parents didn't object to a trusty 486 PC, I found these computer games to be the perfect loophole around their rules against the brain-rotting Nintendo.

“A computer does more than just video games,” they said.

I was okay with that.

What started in that elementary school computer lab soon moved to our home, where I no longer had to fight anyone (except my dad occasionally) for screen time. My perpetual obsession over the EGA is a continuation of that computer lab experience, bridging those early days with adult me. A part of me remains stuck in that hot room, surrounded by the hum of old computers, or at home unloading TSRs to run certain games that required more RAM, discovering whole new worlds through jagged sprites and limited palettes.

I wish I had appreciated those days more. It’s all just too sterile today, and—to quote Lethal Weapon—I’m getting too old for this shit!

From my first glimpse of that digital yellow submarine to downloading shareware games years later, that computer lab shaped the rest of my life. If I had never stepped foot in that lab, I wouldn’t have this obsession with computers.

It keeps getting worse.

I think I may be going a little insane.