1998: A driver in Marseilles, France is distracted by her Tamagotchi virtual pet. She plows into a group of cyclists, killing one and injuring another.

Tamagotchi, created by the Japanese toymaker Bandai in 1996, kicked off the "digital pet" craze. It was an egg-shaped electronic keychain with a tiny black-and-white LCD screen that played a simple, yet addictive game: You raised a little creature from an egg, feeding, washing and cleaning it in regular intervals.

The creature would beep when it needed attention, and if you were a good "parent" it would evolve into a cuter animal. Neglect it too much, and it would die.

The adorable chirping Tamagotchi (the name was a portmanteau of the Japanese words for "egg" and "wristwatch") were a constant distraction for the kids and adults who bought the toy, presaging the ubiquitous use of cellphones a few years later.

The driver in question, a 27-year-old woman, heard her digital creature bleeping while she was on the road, and asked a passenger to take care of whatever was wrong, Reuters reported. While she was distracted, she failed to see a group of bicyclists ahead of her and hit them, police told the news service.

Besides its addictive qualities, Tamagotchi was also a case study in fad behavior. When it was first released in Japan in 1996 it became a surprise hit, and Bandai didn't have the resources to meet demand.

Reports said Japanese consumers were paying between $500 and $1,000 on the secondhand market for the $20 toy. But by the time Bandai was able to get enough of them into stores, the craze was over.

America had its own Tamagotchi craze, with sold-out stores across the country. Tamagotchi didn't last long, but it primed the pump for the avalanche of Japanese kids' entertainment that was to come, like the somewhat similar Pokémon. Bandai continues to sell Tamagotchi keychains today.

The first time I heard about the toy was when I walked into FAO Schwarz in New York City in 1997. The store, in its characteristic fashion, had dedicated an entire massive section to Tamagotchi, with the toy's logo and characters plastered up in giant size on the walls.

Over by the cash register, a middle-aged Japanese businessman stood conversing with the cashier, showing him the Tamagotchi on his keyring.

It was all new to me, and I wanted to inspect the clever device. "So, um, where are they?" I asked the cashier.

"Oh, they're sold out," he said to me, as we stood together in a giant display full of nothing.

Source: Various

Photo: Pony Kid-/Flickr

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