"Teaser" press kit
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The press kit, as you can see in the photos, consisted of a cardboard box about 7" x 7" x 3".
The outside, done up in
the official Microsoft Forest Green corporate color scheme of the time, minces no
words:
MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT ON THE FUTURE OF SOFTWARE." |
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Once opened, what's revealed is a small brass squeegee and a cotton waffle-weave washcloth. (Note for the humor impaired: You know, like, stuff people use to clean windows.) Actually, both of these are of pretty high, professional-level quality - each kit must have cost Bill and company at least $10 to put together, not including the FedEx charges they presumably paid to get them to their destinations quickly. |
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FOR A CLEAR VIEW OF WHAT'S NEW IN MICROCOMPUTER SOFTWARE...
...please join Microsoft and 18 microcomputer manufacturers for a press conference to be held at 10:00 a.m. on Thursday, November 10, 1983 at the Plaza Hotel in New York City.
A light lunch will be served and you will have an opportunity to interview each OEM and Microsoft throughout the rest of the day.
Please plan to attend. We will be in touch to confirm.
MICROSOFT ("blibbet"logo)
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[note: Pam Edstrom was the first director of Microsoft's PR department, who went on to join a very successful Portland-based PR firm, now known as Waggener-Edstrom - of which Microsoft is still the largest client.]
Measured by the yardstick of "actual shipping product", this announcement of "Windows" was highly premature; a poster-child for the then still-new software category of vaporware. Though promised by Microsoft to be on store shelves by April 1984 (announced retail price: $100), Windows Release 1.0 didn't actually ship until mid-November 1985 - over two years after this announcment. Reportedly the development project was initially pegged at 6-man years of effort, but ended up taking 90-man-years.
Kind of puts the wait for the release of Longhorn in perspective, no?
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1) How'd you come by this?
Around late '84, the small Bellevue, WA-based Pick OS start up where I was
managing tech support hired a (very attractive :) young advertising assistant, who brought it with her from her former
employer - a media agency somehow peripherally associated with Microsoft's ad or PR efforts. Unfortunately, she got
caught soon thereafter in one of our company's all-too-frequent downsizings. A week or two post-hottie-departure, I noticed this was still on her bookshelf, and decided to snag it. (And only for the geekiest of reasons: because I thought
the squeegee was pretty cool and would be good for cleaning small spaces like the inside of my car's windshield :). I promptly
stuck the thing in the closet and forgot about it for 15 years.
2) You should see if Microsoft wants to buy this!
Yup. You'd have thought that our Redmond friends would be pretty interested in acquiring this bauble for their historical corporate collection - or at least to put proudly on display in some executive office area . I mean, it essentially represents the birth announcement for the product that eventually let the company dominate the entire personal computer software world and earn them untold billions of dollars. The natural assumption would be that they'd be pretty eager to have this particular piece of history safely back at home, right?
Wrong, bit boy.
A few years back (around the time of the launches of Windows 98 and then later, XP) I tried numerous times to interest someone at Microsoft in acquiring this. But despite a slew of phone calls and emails trying to find someone - anyone - interested in taking it off my hands, I met mostly vast indifference and many unreturned voicemails. It wasn't like I was asking for untold riches in return, either. At the time I wasn't exactly flush with cash, and I'd have happily settled for no payment at all outside a few days of personal shopping privileges at the Microsoft employee store, a gesture that would have cost them pretty nearly nothing.
(Among other seemingly likely candidates, I tried several times to get someone at the on-campus Microsoft Museum the tiniest bit interested. You'd think that given their department's name, it'd be in the basic job description to be on the lookout for this kind of stuff to add to their official corporate historical collection. Apparently not, though.)
At one point I do recall a low-level staffer telling me they'd be happy to take it from me for free. I declined the offer, thinking it just a tad cheap for a going concern with give-or-take $60 billion available in the
petty cash drawer to be asking
for a handout.
3) Would you sell this to me? It's really cool! I'll give you $xxxx!!
Thanks, but no. Right now, I'm thinking I'll keep it. It's got more value to me as a historical curiousity and conversation-starter than what I'd get by selling it off. (On second thought: Steve Jobs, if you're ever interested in getting the ultimate in gag office accessories, Little One and I would surely consider a trade for a private a tour of that little cartoon studio you have down there.)
More seriously, were I to ever part with it, I'd probably stick it up for Ebay auction with proceeds to benefit charity: perhaps this one or these folks.
Though if I ever was going to sell it privately, it would necessarily be with the understanding that the buyer was not someone currently
employed by, or representing, Microsoft Corporation, or anyone currently working there. You had lots of chances to get this one
on the cheap, guys, and you blew them all - sorry.
4) You made a real bonehead mistake in your history/grammar/spelling/photography/moral outlook, or I've got to inform you of something vital that MUST be here...
Sure, I'm game. Email me at squeegee /at/ sambadance /dot/ com. Nice emails will be very likely to get a response.