A Dick Smith VZ200 without the Dick Smith (but with a serial port)

Australians! They walk among us! Do not be deceived by those charming faces! They might be your parent! They might sleep in the same bed as you at night! A half-breed might write the very blog you read! For the preservation of our precious bodily fluids, we must remove the scurrilous larrikin influence of Australia upon our American home computers, and I know exactly where to start! Why allow Dick Smith's name (even though he'd already sold Dick Smith Electronics' controlling interest to Woolies by then but stop ruining my intro) to corrupt this, um, rubber-keyed diminutive beige home computer when we can return it to its prior, pristine, plasticky state as it once rolled out from a glorious Asian factory? Let us restore it to its purest virginal roots! Let this American, possibly sold in Canada, original of a Hong Kong-manufactured super-cheap home computer that was also sold in Europe but never mind that flourish once more! ... after, of course, we compare this seppo VTech VZ200 with the Dick Smith units and the bumper crop of crap American home computers in 1983, and fix the keyboard and video. Then, to avoid wrecking it with a botched logic board repair, we'll bolt on a USB serial port using the very latest peripherals from down under, write cycle-counted Z80 assembly language to blast data to it at 57.6kbps, and hack a few games. Because only this will make the VZ200 great again! Let us also acknowledge that the cultural context of 1980's home computers was naturally somewhat different between the United States and Australia, and I think that's primarily why the NTSC VZ200's fate was rather unlike the DSE rebadge's. There's not a lot of early history on these particular machines, but we'll try to construct a coherent one; similarly, as there are many down-under perspectives on this machine, I'll give an alternative view from the North American side as a kid growing up during that era. The introduction of the Intel 4004 in 1971, one of the earliest microprocessors (though see also "TI vs. Everybody"), was a seismic event in computing. Hong Kong entrepreneurs Allan Wong and Stephen Leung were two of many to realize that the microchip would trigger a revolution in consumer electronics, and over several years accumulated sufficient funding to establish Video Technology Ltd in 1976. Their first factory operated from the Freder Centre in Ma Tau Kok, a semi-industrial area on the west side of Kowloon Bay. Initially VTech, as it became known, concentrated on video games, primarily as an OEM for the more profitable North American and European markets. Their first products were Pong clones, released in the United Kingdom as the Grandstand Adman T.V. Game 2000 (black and white) and Adman T.V. Game 3000 (colour) in 1977, both based on the Texas Instruments TMS1965N, TI's clone of the well-known General Instrument AY-3-8500 Pong-on-a-chip (compare with the rather more complex MOS 7601). Grandstand was a brand name of Adam Imports, then a substantial toy and games importer to the UK and for a period of time New Zealand, and had other Asian contacts, notably Tomy. If the picture on VTech's history page is to be believed, and I point out there are some verifiable inaccuracies on that page, VTech continued to produce other consoles for Grandstand/Adam like the (deep breath) Grandstand Adman Colour TV Game 3600 Mk III, which used a regular AY-3-8500 and was produced until 1979. For the portable market, VTech produced a number of handheld LED, VFD, LCD games, sold under various brands and through retailers such as Radio Shack. VTech was hardly the only such Hong Kong tech company, of course; across the Bay in Kwun Tong was EACA, established in 1975 by Guangzhou escapee Eric Chung. EACA also produced consumer products such as radios and its own video games, notably the 1978 Colour TV Game, also based on the TMS1965N and variously sold under other brands such as the Sonesta Hide-Away TV Game. Meanwhile, in August 1977 Tandy Corporation's Radio Shack subsidiary introduced the TRS-80 (retroactively named the TRS-80 Model I) computer. It was based around the Zilog Z80 microprocessor, no doubt due to the influence of the MITS Altair's Intel 8080, provided a 64x16 display with 128x48 semigraphics, and came with BASIC, cassette support and built-in keyboard for $399 [$2200 in 2026 dollars]; the higher-end model added an integrated monitor and tape recorder for $599 [$3300]. Tandy made many compromises to get it to that base price, such as its relatively slow 1.774MHz CPU clock (derived from an oddball 10.6445MHz crystal), complete lack of lowercase, stuttery keyboard, low base RAM (4K), weak BASIC and temperamental video circuitry, but it was cheap, it was credible and above all else, it was available. As a result, it outsold the competing Apple II by a significant margin and was in Radio Shack stores well before Commodore could clear its notorious backlog on the PET. EACA, among others, noticed all three systems used largely off-the-shelf hardware and discrete TTL logic, and quickly planned for a clone computer to expand their product line. With respect to the TRS-80, the only custom part other than the system ROMs was a Motorola MCM6670 "character generator," effectively another ROM with character bitmap data used by the video circuit. Since it was the market leader, third-party support for the platform was growing and Tandy had little presence outside the United States, Chung decided to start there first. In summer 1979 EACA introduced the Video Genie, ostensibly the first original design from a Hong Kong technology company (as reported in Creative Computing in August), but in fact ripped off from and largely compatible with the TRS-80, and advertised as such (well, the compatible part, anyway). While there were some internal differences and significant changes to the keyboard layout, EACA mostly copied the TRS-80 system ROMs for production with only minor changes, shipping it with a licensed version of Microsoft Level II BASIC. At Summer CES in Chicago it directly competed with the APF Imagination Machine and the Texas Instruments 99/4 (the original), and indirectly with the Atari 8-bits which earlier debuted at the Winter show. While it lacked the $599 model's monitor (a TV set or Tandy monitor was required), it had a better keyboard mechanism and a built-in cassette recorder, and was variously announced between $500 and $600 with 16K of RAM [$2200-$2760]. Down under, Dick Smith Electronics had grown far beyond its car park roots in 1968 Sydney and was already by this point making early steps into the computer business. For readers unfamiliar with the chain, DSE shops in Australia and New Zealand occupied the same market niche back in the day that Radio Shack and Heathkit outlets did in North America, catering primarily to the home enthusiast with hobby parts, kits and rebadged consumer electronics. (There were also a small handful of stores in California but they were never successful.) In 1977 the company started selling a kit computer detailed in Electronics Australia, John Kennewell's National Semiconductor SC/MP-based MINI-SCAMP, running the CPU at roughly 500kHz (based on a typical 2μs cycle time) and 256 bytes of RAM expandable to 1K (64K addressable). DSE advertised the machine as "33% of the cost of the EDUC-8," an earlier Electronics Australia bit-serial TTL hobbyist system inspired by the DEC PDP-8 and designed by Jamieson Rowe — remember that name — who became an enthusiastic proponent of the new machine. Over in Silicon Valley, Palo Alto arcade game builder Exidy had developed their own Z80-based computer in 1978, the Exidy Sorcerer, a premium system featuring programmable character graphics, a faster 2.1MHz CPU and a built-in internal S-100 bus. Exidy saw the export market as a growth opportunity and aggressively inked deals with multiple foreign distributors, including DSE, who were taking ready advantage of the Whitlam government's 1973 import tariff reduction to bring more finished goods to DSE stores. The Sorcerer arguably found greater success in Europe than it ever did in the United States, particularly in the Netherlands where the licensed Compudata Sorcerer became the default government-supported educational system, and certainly in Australia due to Dick Smith's dogged promotion. Still, even in the US it was considered relatively expensive at $895 [$4580], and with tariff and import costs tacked on it didn't price itself well to the Aussie working class nerd. Conversely, the EACA Video Genie had meanwhile achieved some popularity of its own within Europe, notably West Germany, in no small part due to its lower cost. That alone made it a logical system to transition to, and better still, EACA had absolutely no objection to DSE outright rebadging it as a Dick Smith unit. New for a new decade, the EACA Video Genie became the Dick Smith System 80 in (wait for it) 1980 and started at A$595 for a 4K version, approximately US$510 at prevailing spot rates and around US$2060 in 2026 dollars (the 16K version was A$695). Peter Hartley in Micro-80 disliked the altered keyboard (no CLEAR and TAB, no left and right arrows, up and down replaced by ESCAPE and CONTROL), complained about its changes to the character set and video circuitry, found the built-in cassette deck hideous, and noted the lack of board sockets and the missing-at-launch S-100 expansion box, but approved of the "brilliant" and "attractive" appearance, its overall functionality, and most of all its purchase price. "Even if you buy a decent tape deck from your local Big W and put it in the System 80," Hartley concluded, "you end up at least $150.00 [US$130 spot, US$520 in 2026 dollars] ahead — and that pays for your next 16K of RAM chips ... the machine has an identical computing capacity to the TRS-80, for a lot less dollars." At this point it was inevitable someone would poke the Tandy bear, and that someone was Recortec (they're still around),