cr0sh:
That is quite unusual. What kind of comments have you had?
Next time do it as a mural. <G>
Most people we have had over either have no understanding of what it is or what it is for (the periodic table); when we try to explain its importance, their eyes glaze over like they were back in high-school chemistry class. Its fun to watch the transformation. Some see it, and know what it is, then they avoid it with their eyes - like it was a pentagram drawn in blood or something. We find it amusing, and at the same time, a pity. One of the greatest of mankind's tools for understanding the universe, and it's held in fundamental disregard - and sometimes "fear".
As far as the core memory is concerned - they have no idea what they are looking at, or any comprehension of what it means compared to modern technology (the board, IIRC, has a 1976 date code on it - technically, it was already "obsolete" when it was made). They can't understand that the board, which is about the size of a standard LP record album cover - has magnitudes less memory than is contained on their postage-stamp sized SIM card in their cell phone. Forget even trying to explain the basics of how it worked.
Both pieces effectively scream "major geeks live here" - and all that implies.
Then again, you should see some of the other decorations in this room; we have an old console piano (neither of us play, though, which is a pity - but we found it at Goodwill for $25.00!) on one wall, along with a set of red-painted open shadow boxes we made to display various knick-knacks and such; small old antique items, curio items, and a few fossils. On one wall we have an antique decoupaged pith helmet (my wife and I are fans of Elizabeth Peters' Amelia Peabody series of mystery novels; we fancy to think Mrs. Peabody may have worn such a hat). On another wall we have some very unique pieces of amateur graphic art; they are done in a form of mixed media (pencil and acrylic, I think) - and look mathematical and somewhat inspired by computer graphics; they date from the late-1960s.
Finally, we have sitting on our piano my mother's false teeth in a sealed mason jar of water; she passed away in 2009 from dementia/Alzheimer's, after living with us for about 8 months. She hardly ever wore them while she lived with us, not likely their "fit", but she was too far gone to have new ones fitted; we forgot to give them to the mortician when we had her body prepared for the funeral. They are actually a pleasant reminder of her, from a time in hers and our lives when things weren't always pleasant (and many times were very chaotic). They remind us about those good times than the "bad", and bring a smile to our faces.
They totally whig-out strangers, though - heh.