[sharpened jazz music plays] [computer buzzing, beeps]
[handle clonks down, keyboard plops out] [power switches on]
[PC beeps, display quietly hinges open]
Well, isn’t this neat!
Greetings, folks, and y’know what?
Sometimes you’ve just gotta reset and go back to the 1980s with your computing experience.
Or at least I do.
And the experience I’m interested in today is this lovely cinder block of a system, the
Sharp PC-7000, selling for $1,795 upon its introduction to the US by Sharp Electronics
in October of 1985.
A portable machine from the days when storage was measured in kilobytes, color graphics
weren’t a priority, and batteries weren’t even a consideration here.
Sure, slimmer, lighter, battery-powered portables existed.
But if you wanted a proper IBM PC-compatible to take with you on a trip in ‘85, chances
are you’d choose a luggable like this.
Which, believe it or not, was on the less ridiculous side of things,
in terms of size and weight.
Chunky next to more modern machines, no question, but relative to some of its contemporaries?
The thing was downright slim.
Compare it to something like the IBM Portable PC 5155 released a year prior, which was closer
in size to a sewing machine than the lunchbox look of the PC-7000.
Not only that, but the IBM was too large for the new 1985 FAA carry-on luggage size restrictions.
The Sharp, however, conformed nicely, measuring roughly 16 by 8.5 by 6 inches,
well within airline stipulations.
And though it weighed 2/3rds less than certain competitors, it still had some heft, weighing
21.5 pounds or 9.3 kilograms, including the keyboard.
But yeah, it’s a short and wide little thing and I enjoy its company,
so let’s take a closer look!
Which we can do thanks to LGR viewer Woody
who kindly sent it this way for the cost of shipping.
He was under the impression it was unused, but ehh, I have doubts.
There are scratches, stains, and signs of wear in the spots you’d most expect, plus
this decidedly not stock strip of... tactical Velcro.
All pointing towards a previous life of service.
But whoever first used it certainly kept it in great shape over the decades, with things
like the serial port still having its protective cap installed, and the carrying handle still
wrapped up in what I assume is its original plastic wrapping.
Really, beyond a few nicks and scuffs it should clean up well!
So lemme go ahead and do that before moving on, because after nearly 38 years,
I think this PC-7000 deserves a bath.
[jazz intensifies] [copious cleaning commences]
Oh heck yeah, and with that we have a significantly cleaner system.
I didn’t think it was too dirty, but after seeing all the grime that wiped off and scraped
out of those crevices, I’m feeling much better.
There’s just one thing that remains, and y’know what?
I know this may have been here over three decades, but it’s MINE now dang it, and
I wanna caress that handle.
[plastic crinkles]
Ahh much better.
A little wipe down of the residue and wow does this feel fresh.
As does the entire PC, just in general, even before the cleaning!
I’ll admit the single biggest reason I took this thing in was due to its shape, its form
factor, its overall style and pizzazz.
I’d say it’s quite sharp-looking but that’s too on the nose,
so uh, I’m gonna go with “spiffy.”
This is a spiffy system, and even if it didn’t work, I’d be happy to have it sittin’ around
being awesome.
And part of that awesomeness can be attributed to Vadem Limited out of San Jose, California.
An ODM company that Sharp brought on to co-design aspects of the PC-7000 back in the day.
The same Vadem that had previously designed the Morrow Pivot, which somewhat evolved into
the Zenith Z-170 – a direct competitor to the 7000.
I don’t have any big point to make here I just find it amusing.
And I think they did a nice job, with a more appealing look than the Pivot, and a better
design than its predecessor, the 1984 Sharp PC-5000.
That was their first computer targeted for sale in the US, and while its clamshell design
was sweet, that skinny little 8-line LCD was a real hindrance.
So the 7000’s larger 10.5” STN monochrome LCD was a solid improvement,
while still leaving much to be desired.
On the positive side, it was illuminated, with electroluminescent, or EL, backlighting
making it glow bluish green.
Kinda like a souped-up version of Timex Indiglo, if you ever had one of those watches.
It also adjusted to 5, 10, and 15 degree angles, allowing for better viewing
depending on where your head’s at.
And the 2.1:1 aspect ratio could display up to 640x200 graphics or 80x25 characters in
text mode, ideal for DOS, word processing, and spreadsheets.
But while having backlighting is nice, low contrast is not,
and boy is this some low contrast.
Adjusting the wheel above the tilt control lets you waft between contrast that’s always
somehow too high and too low at the same time, and it gets worse
depending on ambient room lighting.
This was improved on the PC-7100, but here it’s just kinda blah.
Inverting the display helps at times, but truthfully
it’s just an alternative style of bad.
Oh well, at least the rest of the hardware was pretty darned decent for 1985, starting
with the processor, an Intel 8086-2 running at 4.77 or 7.37MHz.
Along with 384KB of RAM, though it’s limited to less than that to the user.
As well as graphics that can switch between MDA and CGA,
both in monochrome through the built-in display of course.
And dual 5.25” 360K floppy drives, slim ones at that, being packed inside a rather
small space narrower than a single full height drive.
Around back is the PSU taking standard IEC power cords, a spot for the $255 CRT adapter
upgrade with RGB output, 25-pin parallel and serial ports,
and another spot for the $349 1200 bps modem upgrade.
There was also the $399 CE-700P thermal printer, which would neatly snap in place on the back
of the system for transportation and storage.
Though it did have to be disconnected to be used, unlike some other systems with bolt-on
printers that printed while attached.
On the left-hand side is a lovely power switch, up top is the carrying handle, and on bottom
is an interface for Sharp’s CE-710E expansion unit, which added a hard drive and three ISA
expansion slots, creating a real tower of power situation.
So yeah, no hard drive was included normally, but it did come with MS-DOS version 2.11 on
floppy disk. Something this didn’t have so I grabbed a copy online.
It’s a slightly customized version of DOS with some small additions.
Namely the Sharp diagnostic program that performs a variety of tests on the PC-7000 and makes
sure everything’s in fine working order.
Even cooler is the built-in setup program, accessible via this dedicated keyboard key.
Anytime you need to change system settings, you can press that button and enter the menu,
which lets you do stuff like change display settings, serial and parallel options, CPU
speed, time, date, and so on.
This kinda thing in ROM was not a guarantee back in ‘85, so it’s a welcome inclusion.
And of course, along the front of the machine is where the keyboard clips in place, attaching
to the system and protecting the LCD when stored,
and easily detaching when you need it.
The coiled keyboard cable packs into this little slot, with RJ-11 jacks on either end.
It’s more custom than that though, with the pinout and wiring
differing from a standard phone cable.
The board itself is pretty decent, with 84 full travel keys and a layout similar to the
PC/AT just with function keys along top, an overlay row above those, and backslash to
the left of Backspace allowing for a larger Enter.
And the LED indicators for Caps, Scroll, and Num Lock are neatly built into the key switches
themselves for each respective key.
On that note, they’re all linear Alps keyswitches,
with both SKFL and integrated dome round slider style switches underneath.
Same as you found on a number of Japanese MSX systems back then.
They don’t feel great, and no doubt need a deeper cleaning, but even at their best
I’m not a huge fan of this type of lighter-weight linear switch.
[keys clack with light dissatisfaction]
Getting inside the PC-7000 is simple enough, just remove a few screws and the whole back
panel comes off, revealing a crowded yet tidy motherboard.
Here you can see that 8086-2 CPU and its co-processor companion socket ready for an 8087.
As well as the on-board RAM, which could actually be doubled to a total of 768K.
There’s also the real time clock battery, which I really need to replace
but hey, it still works for now.
And as mentioned earlier, this model had no hard disk.
But later variants replaced one of the floppy drives with a 10 or 20 megabyte drive, giving
the system some real desktop replacement potential.
And really, that describes the PC-7000 overall.
Potential!
In its base configuration, it might not have had everything you’d ever need if you were
a power user, but dang if it didn’t cover a whole lotta bases for a lotta folks.
It’s a properly capable MS-DOS PC, and it runs... not much, if we’re being honest.
Especially with only 320KB RAM and no hard drive.
But whatever, that’s half the charm these days, so I say enjoy for it what it does rather
than lament what it doesn’t.
Like hey, Flight Simulator 2.0 works great!
Always a good test of IBM PC compatibility, and being able to fly around a deeply disappointing
Chicago skyline on this thing is a treat.
And so long as you fall within RAM and CPU restrictions, a number of late 80s titles
work as well, from Sierra AGI adventures to Wheel of Fortune.
It’s a good time, no alcohol required.
And of course there are no shortage of early 80s CGA and MDA classics to boot up and enjoy,
from Tetris to Digger, Burgertime to Bouncing Babies.
Sadly some of my CGA favorites, like Round 42 and Paku Paku, do not work.
They half start up, but due to the modified low res trickery being utilized,
it’s graphically messed up enough to be unplayable.
But that’s an exception, thankfully.
And games like Pharaoh’s Tomb, and other CGA shareware classics, work just fine.
This is not far off from how I played it back in the day at my aunt and uncle’s place,
so it’s oddly nostalgic stuff.
Mm, this kind of EL backlit LCD panel with its smeary low contrast imagery never fails
to take me back.
I may have grown up in the 90s, but obsolete hand-me-down machines like this were never
too far away, it seemed like there was always some cousin, some friend of the family, some
weird dude who showed up to live in your basement that had an obsolete PC kickin’ around and
was like “hey kid, wanna try some DOS?”
[chuckles] Can’t have only been me, right?
I dunno my childhood got weird, filled with strange individuals loaning out even stranger
computers, slowly molding me into the LGR I am today.
And that is the Sharp PC-7000.
A decidedly middle-of-the-road machine in the middle of the 80s, but one that was easily
and continually recommended as a result.
The thing sold well, in the hundreds of thousands, with new models featuring various integrated
upgrades being sold until 1990.
Not a bad run at all for a portable PC clone!
It would have benefited greatly from an improved LCD, and from what I’ve read even the 7100’s
improved display wasn’t all that.
But really, just add a hard drive and that CRT adapter to plug it into a real monitor,
and you’d have a system that would serve as a nice PC at home on a desk,
and out on the road, on another desk.
[chuckles] Like a hotel room or airport lounge or whatever, I dunno.
It’s no laptop, that much is clear.
But it is a lovely portable/luggable/lunchbox machine for its time, and should you ever
run across one for a nice price, I’d say snatch it up!
It provides a proper mid-80s portable PC experience, with all that entails.
[jazz intensifies] [computer game beeping]
And if you enjoyed this computery retrospective then do stick around!
Making stuff like this on LGR is just what I do, and more is always in the works for
your future viewing pleasure.
And as usual, thank you for watching!