Ars Technica:
To get “online” was to sit down at your computer, open up an application called a “terminal program” (or just “term program” for short), pull up your carefully hoarded list of BBS phone numbers, and start dialing. Inevitably, most would be busy and you’d have to wait, but eventually you’d be treated to the sweet sound of ringing through your modem’s speaker, followed by the electronic beeping and scratching of a modem handshake.
I remember all of this. In related news, I’m old.
When I was in college we had “internet in every dorm room”. You had to do something kind of like that–there were several different numbers you could try–and then you accessed your email via telnet and the internet via Netscape. Brutal. But also amazing.
I had an awesome shell script that would run a series of ftp downloads without any intervention. During the day, I’d edit the text file with the file URLs I wanted, then fire up the modem before going to bed, and in the morning… shareware!
In related news, I’m also old.
Internet?!? You young folk don’t know how easy you had it. BBS were run locally and usually didn’t have the luxury of being connected to the Internet. Shareware was distributed manually. You’d upload it to one BBS, and folks would download it and upload it to other BBSs. That’s the only way it could spread.
*Small point of correction: you accessed the World Wide Web via Netscape. The Internet encompasses web, email, usenet, gopher, telnet, and whatever other services run on it.
I had no Mac-based BBS in my local calling area, so I had to phone long distance to get access. I remember having to reimburse my mom to pay for the long distance charges I racked up.
Semantics, but yes. We browsed with Netscape.
I’m also old enough to remember the sound of the modem handshake…and fidonet…and calling long distance (to Chicago in the mid-late 80’s…from Mexico)…damn, those were the days.
How many people here were members of The WELL? A typical session would be: 1) Connect to The WELL, 2) Download all the activity in the forums I was following, 3) Disconnect, 4) Read the forums and make posts, 5) Re-connect, 6) Upload my posts and download new ones, 7) Repeat. I couldn’t just stay connected while reading and writing because then no one could reach me on my phone.
I remember this well. Does anyone remember The Manhattan Project (TMP)? It was a pretty big board back in the day (1984 or so). I think they had 10+ phone lines coming in. Although I think the fastest I had at that point was 1200 baud. Hell I remember 300 baud!
“Get off my lawn! Why, I remember back when 14.4k was terrifyingly fast, and people would have killed for 56k Frame Relay!”
I also remember the sounds and the magic of text slowly scrolling down the screen. Delphi was loads of fun.
While I don’t feel any less old, I find I have lots of friends…..
Same. The internet special back then since you could possibly not get connected and when you did it blocked your phone calls, until call waiting hit.
Good times.
How about the JOY of upgrading to the 9600 baud modem—how freaking cool was that? In related news, we are all old….
Great story. My first modem in 1984 had a switch for either 300/300, or if I knew I was going to be downloading, a blistering 1200/75. Yup 75 up! Oh but the scorching speed of 1200 down.
We lived in a company house and had no utility bills – including phone. Dad did get a call when I discovered the Compuserve number in the States (I’m in Australia). That got some attention. We got in trouble but more people were interested in what I was doing and how they could do it for work and at home.
I remember a couple of times when I would go on holidays, I’d research and contact the local Sysop, then visit and swap files using floppies for a day. Sneaker net plus tyres!
Yet in 1993 we dropped bbs for the inter web so quickly it was incredible. Best of breed bbs setups we had spent years perfecting suddenly sat in the corner, disconnected while we explored on mosaic, gopher, FTP and Veronica.
Yet I still miss those chat room days. The internet has never felt as personal.