In the world of personal computing, 35 years is a lifetime. Technologies rise, fall, and vanish into the archives of forgotten hardware. Yet, standing defiant against obsolescence is my Casio PB-770 — a machine born in 1983, and still very much alive today.
For a “personal PC” of its era, the PB-770 was no desktop tower nor bulky workstation. It was a sleek, programmable pocket computer, armed with BASIC in ROM, an alphanumeric LCD, and the solid, almost indestructible build quality that Casio engineers seemed to pour their pride into.
Even after decades of service, the PB-770 remains flawless. Its keyboard still responds with that crisp tactile feedback, its display remains sharp and readable, and its programs — some written in my much younger days — still execute without complaint.
It has never once failed me, whether for quick calculations, data logging, or running small, custom BASIC programs. While modern devices boast gigahertz processors and terabytes of storage, the PB-770 proves that reliability, simplicity, and thoughtful engineering outlast sheer specifications.
35 years on, it still serves me best — a reminder that sometimes, the smallest computers can carry the largest legacy.
For a 35-year-old "personal PC", the PB-770 remains a tough survivor — flawless in operation, humble in design, and still serving me best.
Released in 1983 as part of Casio’s pocket computer series, the PB-770 was never meant to compete with desktop giants of its time. Instead, it was built to be reliable, portable, and enduring — a companion for engineers, scientists, and business users who needed computing on the go before laptops were commonplace.
Specifications in its prime (and still relevant today for its intended purpose):
- CPU: Hitachi HD62002, efficient and cool-running
- Memory: 8KB RAM, expandable via memory modules
- Display: 24-character monochrome LCD
- Programming: Built-in BASIC interpreter
- Connectivity: Cassette interface and printer dock support
- Power: Runs for weeks on standard batteries
Timeline of Casio Pocket Computers (1979–1985)
- 1979 – Casio FX-502P / FX-602P
Hybrid programmable calculators — the prelude to pocket computers. BASIC-like keystroke programming.
- 1981 – Casio PB-100
The first fully BASIC-programmable Casio pocket computer. LCD display, expandable memory, serial connection to printer/plotter.
- 1982 – Casio PB-110 and PB-300
Slimmer body, better LCD contrast, more RAM options.
- 1983 – Casio PB-770
Flagship model for professionals.
- 1984 – Casio PB-2000C
First model with detachable keyboard modules, improved LCD, and faster execution.
- 1985 – Casio FX-850P
Larger display, spreadsheet-like capabilities, and multi-line LCD — a leap closer to laptop functions.
Price in 1983 vs. Today (Inflation Adjusted)
- Launch Price (1983): USD $179.95 (approx. ¥42,000 in Japan)
- Adjusted to 2025 Dollars: ≈ USD $530 (± Rp 8,600,000 in Indonesia)
- Actual Second-Hand Value Today: USD $50–$200 depending on condition
The inflation-adjusted price reminds us: in 1983, buying a PB-770 was as big a decision as buying a mid-range laptop today. And yet, unlike many modern gadgets, it was designed to last decades — and it has.
Why It Still Matters
The PB-770 doesn’t nag for updates. It doesn’t slow down. It doesn’t care about Wi-Fi or cloud sync. It does one thing: process calculations with total reliability.
Its survival is a quiet defiance against the disposable culture of modern tech. While today’s devices are measured in months before they “need” replacement, the PB-770 has seen the fall of floppy disks, the rise of the internet, the birth of smartphones, and still blinks back to life instantly — ready for work.
What truly amazes me is not just that this unit still powers on instantly after decades, but that it performs daily calculation tasks as flawlessly as it did in 1983. While modern devices demand updates, reboots, and patches, my PB-770 simply waits for a button press — then delivers.
In an era where technology often has a planned expiry date, the PB-770 is a quiet defiance against obsolescence. It stands as a testament to over-engineering, simplicity, and mechanical honesty — the kind of product you could trust your work to, even after 35 years.
And so, each time I slide the power switch, I’m reminded: durability is the ultimate luxury.