Internet Archaeology (Brian Katcher)

Next week, I'll turn 50. This event is being overshadowed by my daughter, who somehow thinks her high school graduation is also an event worth celebrating. We'll barbeque, which is somewhat complicated by the four baby birds whose mother built a nest in my BBQ grill (luckily, I have two). 

I think back to the only time I was ever truly disappointed by my birthday presents. It was my 11th birthday, and my friend Matt was spending the night. My parents presented me with my gifts. Oh, what would it be? A new gaming cartridge? A board game? Some books?

No, it was a bat, mitt, and ball. I thanked them, but later Matt said it was obvious I was disappointed. After all, I showed no interest in sports whatsoever. I dutifully played with them for a month or so, but the mitt was later taken by my much more athletic younger sister.

Five years later, on Christmas 1990, my parents got me what was one of the best presents ever: a computer. A real one, with a monitor and everything. I think they finally accepted and even celebrated the fact their son was more of an academic. At in 1991, I did what the rest of America would do later in the decade: I got on the internet. 

Now for you younger people out there, this was a feat. Computers back then operated on your land line. You'd have your computer dial a phone number, there'd be a god awful screeching noise, and your computer would be connected to someone else's computer (long distance calls applied). You could leave messages, play games, and chat with other people in your area. This was called the BBS, the bulletin board system. What's more, those messages could be shared with other people in other communities. It was like some sort of a web, encircling the whole wide world. Even better, almost all the users at that time were young people, so at 15, I was truly chatting with my peers. I'd spend hours battling with my more popular sister over use of the phone line.

The net was slow at the time (2400 bits per MINUTE), tied up your phone, and if someone picked up the receiver, it would kick you off. But I was doing something few others did. My mother was convinced I was doing something illegal, as I was communicating with people far away, but there were no long distance charges.

What was even better, I could be cool around girls. You know what they say about women who look for boyfriends among computer guys: the odds are good, but the goods are odd. During high school, I set up more dates with girls who I'd never met and had never seen my face than girls who actually went to my school.

We'd occasionally arrange events where we'd all meet at an amusement park or the zoo. Online, we'd discuss hobbies and pop culture. The BBSes were one of the first places where LGBTQ youth could talk freely.

By the turn of the century, most of the world was online. In 2000, I remember staying in a hotel in Guatemala with no hot water, and then going to an internet cafe the next day as asking someone who used to go to my church to stop forwarding me such stupid stuff (remember email forwards?). I eventually had to throw that computer away, as it had become so antiquated that no one even wanted it for free. I did plug it in one last time. The doomsayers were right, it said it was the year 1900.

I'll always fondly remember those earliest days of the net, where it was kind of a secret society, where nerds ruled, and teenagers would share their home addresses with someone they met online so they could mail them a photograph.