Off to my left is a rather nondescript shipping box with a FedEx label taped to its top, waiting to be dropped off later today. On my right, a heavy hunk of plastic painted vaguely silver on top. Both are pretty important to me.
The box contains the fourth in a line of Polar White Nintendo DS Lite systems I've owned since it hit American retail just under two years ago. Thankfully, I've only paid once; I owe my long streak of covered repairs and replacements to both generous retail policies and Nintendo of America's highly reputable customer service. Since I picked up my first Lite on launch day, I've had it swapped at the store for a dead pixel, substituted for a refurb at NOA's repair center when I sent it in for dead diagonals, and finally advance-replaced when the system's mic gave up the ghost. This time, it's going back for dying diagonals—not as bad as the first time—but making it very difficult to play the copy of Jam Sessions I just picked up.
The chunky "handheld" on my right has not had such a storied history, though it is true its touch screen was once replaced due to my ill-advised use of a heavy third-party stylus. It's an original launch-era Nintendo DS—"Platinum", they called it—and while it will indeed challenge my wrist strength if held aloft for any appreciable period of time, I can't help but wax emotional about the thing. My feelings come in part because of the sweet software I played on it, of course, but this massive piece of hardware, probably rushed from prototype to compete with Sony's purported Nintendo-destroying PSP, had a number of special characteristics that the svelte-and-sexy Lite just doesn't touch.
#1: Solid Construction. I was asked while setting up my DS Lite repair whether I had dropped the system. I honestly answered "no"; I don't believe I've ever dropped any of the many DS Lites I've owned. The irony of the question became apparent to me later, after I'd begun using the old DS again and noted the rough scratches in the corner of its lid. You see, I had indeed dropped my original system at least twice, once in a parking lot, of all places; were it not for the surface scratches from the gravel, you'd not be able to tell.
Back then, we took the durability of the system for granted, of course. Nintendo was just beginning to take steps out of the era of making toy-looking consoles that sold primarily to kids, and one of the key things they needed to do to achieve this was make hardware that could stand up to that target market. Beyond the real durability of the system, though, you can feel the solid construction of the original Nintendo DS. You know just by holding it in your hands that it can take a hard knock or three without flinching. Contrasted with the launch DS Lite, which felt to me like its lid would snap off if I had the audacity to try to open it vertically (something that was thankfully fixed in the fourth system I received), the original DS feels like something built to military spec.
#2: D-Pad and Buttons. Here, I start getting a little controversial; after all, there's a sizable contingent of people who prefer the rubber dome-switch feel of the DS Lite's controls, with their superior key travel. I can appreciate this, especially in certain types of games, but for pure directional control I think I'd rather have stuck with the metal dome-switches from my much-loved Game Boy Advance SP and, of course, the original DS.
The metal dome-switches have a definite feel to them; even though I'm pressing them only slightly, my thumbs can very clearly sense when I've moved from "not pressed" to "pressed", and the system always agrees with my thumbs' assessment. Even with the well-used d-pad from my original system, I could quickly and easily feel all the chord selections in Jam Sessions, from horizontal, vertical, to—yes—diagonal. Of course, I'm not absolutely sure that the rubber dome-switch tech in the Lite is incapable of reliable diagonal presses; it seems that it may just be bad design in the Lite that makes the diagonals a problem, as the cardinals and buttons work just fine. The feel is just better with the old-school "clicky buttons", and I'd rather return to that era.
#3: LCD Refresh. "Okay, now he's totally gone off his rocker," you say. "He's trying to tell me that the original DS's screen was superior." Just hold up for a minute; I'm not blind. The original DS's LCD seemed to be based on GBA-era tech; it was hard to find an ideal viewing angle, and it was simply impossible to view if you were in too bright of an area. Its colors were nowhere near as vibrant, and even in ideal lighting the thing was pretty dark-looking. That said, it has one key advantage: its refresh, something I was reminded of when dallying a bit with Animal Crossing: Wild World on the old system.
I'd noticed when I started checking out Lite units near launch that there was a slight blur when objects were in motion. It was nowhere near as bad as, say, playing the Zelda Oracle games on a GBA SP+, but it was there nonetheless. A slower LCD refresh is responsible for this blur; frames "die off" more slowly than they did on the original DS's screen, resulting in faint yet perceptible trails for objects in motion. Thankfully, it's not particularly severe, but when I went back to my old Animal Crossing village, I was amazed at how after two years of Lite use everything just looked so much sharper without the even slight blur effect I'd grown accustomed to. It's a shame that the rest of the image quality is so inferior to the Lite's bright, vibrant colors and superior lighting.
Don't get me wrong, the DS Lite is a net win, if only for the ability to actually see it under varying lighting conditions. When mine comes back—repaired, replaced, or what not—I'll take it back happily for that reason alone. But there was a lot to love in the original, maligned and unattractive as it may have been, and it seems unlikely that the modern Nintendo will be going back down that path.
The box contains the fourth in a line of Polar White Nintendo DS Lite systems I've owned since it hit American retail just under two years ago. Thankfully, I've only paid once; I owe my long streak of covered repairs and replacements to both generous retail policies and Nintendo of America's highly reputable customer service. Since I picked up my first Lite on launch day, I've had it swapped at the store for a dead pixel, substituted for a refurb at NOA's repair center when I sent it in for dead diagonals, and finally advance-replaced when the system's mic gave up the ghost. This time, it's going back for dying diagonals—not as bad as the first time—but making it very difficult to play the copy of Jam Sessions I just picked up.
The chunky "handheld" on my right has not had such a storied history, though it is true its touch screen was once replaced due to my ill-advised use of a heavy third-party stylus. It's an original launch-era Nintendo DS—"Platinum", they called it—and while it will indeed challenge my wrist strength if held aloft for any appreciable period of time, I can't help but wax emotional about the thing. My feelings come in part because of the sweet software I played on it, of course, but this massive piece of hardware, probably rushed from prototype to compete with Sony's purported Nintendo-destroying PSP, had a number of special characteristics that the svelte-and-sexy Lite just doesn't touch.
This thing will likely out-survive the cockroaches.
Back then, we took the durability of the system for granted, of course. Nintendo was just beginning to take steps out of the era of making toy-looking consoles that sold primarily to kids, and one of the key things they needed to do to achieve this was make hardware that could stand up to that target market. Beyond the real durability of the system, though, you can feel the solid construction of the original Nintendo DS. You know just by holding it in your hands that it can take a hard knock or three without flinching. Contrasted with the launch DS Lite, which felt to me like its lid would snap off if I had the audacity to try to open it vertically (something that was thankfully fixed in the fourth system I received), the original DS feels like something built to military spec.
#2: D-Pad and Buttons. Here, I start getting a little controversial; after all, there's a sizable contingent of people who prefer the rubber dome-switch feel of the DS Lite's controls, with their superior key travel. I can appreciate this, especially in certain types of games, but for pure directional control I think I'd rather have stuck with the metal dome-switches from my much-loved Game Boy Advance SP and, of course, the original DS.
Left: Meh. Right: Oh yeah.
#3: LCD Refresh. "Okay, now he's totally gone off his rocker," you say. "He's trying to tell me that the original DS's screen was superior." Just hold up for a minute; I'm not blind. The original DS's LCD seemed to be based on GBA-era tech; it was hard to find an ideal viewing angle, and it was simply impossible to view if you were in too bright of an area. Its colors were nowhere near as vibrant, and even in ideal lighting the thing was pretty dark-looking. That said, it has one key advantage: its refresh, something I was reminded of when dallying a bit with Animal Crossing: Wild World on the old system.
I'd noticed when I started checking out Lite units near launch that there was a slight blur when objects were in motion. It was nowhere near as bad as, say, playing the Zelda Oracle games on a GBA SP+, but it was there nonetheless. A slower LCD refresh is responsible for this blur; frames "die off" more slowly than they did on the original DS's screen, resulting in faint yet perceptible trails for objects in motion. Thankfully, it's not particularly severe, but when I went back to my old Animal Crossing village, I was amazed at how after two years of Lite use everything just looked so much sharper without the even slight blur effect I'd grown accustomed to. It's a shame that the rest of the image quality is so inferior to the Lite's bright, vibrant colors and superior lighting.
Don't get me wrong, the DS Lite is a net win, if only for the ability to actually see it under varying lighting conditions. When mine comes back—repaired, replaced, or what not—I'll take it back happily for that reason alone. But there was a lot to love in the original, maligned and unattractive as it may have been, and it seems unlikely that the modern Nintendo will be going back down that path.