I wrecked my bike almost a decade ago. Not the first time, but the most violent wreck I’ve ever experienced.
Got thrown into traffic, broke some ribs, messed up my shoulder, and cracked my helmet almost in two.
After healing tried riding my bike again. Absolutely did not expect PTSD, but could not otherwise explain how wholly unconfident I felt while trying to ride a bike, even til this day.
I had a radio shack “trash” 80. But this was in 78-79.
I played pong and space invaders on it.
It also came with a manual that had the computer’s commands on it in basic language.
I got it to play happy birthday to you when you turned it on; alas, without breaks between the notes.
At that time, the word ‘programming’ was not in my vocabulary.