Some people got married on Valentines and some people proposed on Valentines. But for me, Valentines is about a whole different kind of anniversary- a love affair I couldn't live without, and yes, allows me to communicate with you my dear friends here tonight.
Valentine's Day is my anniversary with the internet.
The year: 1995. The place: my parent's house.
Growing up, we had always had computers. Granted, they didn't do much other than type papers and play the occasional game, but still, we were a computer literate family. In 1995, my parents decided to get on board with this new thing called "the internet" and "connect to the email."
I vaguely remember someone coming by to install it, with all the wiring, CD-ROM's, cable jacks, etc. My parents somehow managed to set up an email account, with the longest name ever, DumasfromBlvdSix@prodigy.net (our address in Canada) and creatively set their password to "Casey" (the name of our late dog).
I had asked them to please get AOL, because I knew some of my friends were on there, and they promised me there was a way that we could set up screennames to talk to each other without our parents knowing. However, I was met with the same argument.
Tom: "Zoe, what do you see in our yard?"
Zoe: "Nothing."
Tom: "Do you see a money tree growing?"
Zoe: "No."
Tom: "Money doesn't grow on trees. And when you're an adult, you can get your own AOL and computer. Until then, we're using Prodigy."
Well, it so happened that one of my dad's co-workers had sent him a Valentine's Day e-card to his email and he wanted to look at it. And hey, let's face it, I was rather chubby and trollish looking in my youth, so it wasn't like any boys from my class were going to show up on my doorstep with freshly picked flowers or even in the very least, a card from Kroger. So we all trudged upstairs to where the computer was.
I was on the phone with my friend when Dianne told me to hang up.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because we need to connect to the World Wide Web," she replied.
"Can you call me back on your cell phone?" my friend Emily asked.**
"Nah, they said I can't use it until after nine, because it costs too much. Besides, lemme figure this out, then we can talk to each other on the computer. Cool?"
"Yeah, I have AOL."
Dammit.
After a few tries of clicking the requisite buttons and a lot of "dammit," "dammit," and "screw this," we heard the glorious sounds.
Rrrrrrrriiinnnnggg.....eeeeeeekkkkk....rrrraaannnnggggyyy....rrrrrrriiinnnggg...aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrnnnnggggggg....
Followed shortly by:
"Welcome to Prodigy!"
Next, there was the task of figuring out how to get into the email. Which icon was it? Did you double-click? Right click?
"I can't log in!" complained Dianne, trying in vain to untangle her feet from the 50 feet of wiring.
"I told you the email address!" Tom said, exasperated, and trying to remove Casey from chewing on said wiring.
"Is it the number six or the word six?
"Did you spell Casey with a capital C?"
"Wait! I'm in! It says you have two emails. Which one is it?"
So twenty minutes after our first login attempt, we came to the email. It looked like most e-cards today, but what we didn't realize was that you could just click on the link.
"So I have to type that address in the line up there?" Dianne asked.
I, being worldly as I was, had actually done this at school.
"Yeah, that line up there. No no! It's not the \, it's the /."
"Hit shift before that!"
"No, don't hit enter!"
"Now you've got to do it again!"
Ten minutes after opening the email, we got to the e-card site, where we were greeted with dancing porcupines and hearts.
"Oooh."
"Ahhh."
"Is it a skunk?" asked Lindsey.
"Shut up, it's a hedgehog. Or a porcupine."
"Awww."
"It's playing music! Turn it up so we can hear it!"
"No, not on the keyboard, I think you have speakers."
"Are they under the computer? I think I need to plug them in."
More wires got tangled and we added yet another extension cord to the power strip, and voila! Music!***
"That's so cool. Play it again!"
And thus it began. We all stood around the computer in amazement at the dancing porcupines and hearts filling our screens, wondering how someone in New York could have sent something that arrived in just one day, not knowing that only a little over a decade later, we'd be able to watch videos of porcupines dancing, google "Valentines Porcupines" (and get images of Kate Gosselin- WTF???), and probably order a porcupine online- all from our phone (which we can use before 9 p.m.)
So on this Valentines, I share with you a Valentine's Porcupine (or maybe it's a hedgehog) and lots of hugs from me to you!
*This is usually followed by a late night visit to match.com where they somehow manage to drunkenly put in their credit card number and create a desperate-looking profile in which they try to downplay their weight problem and number of cats.
**By cell phone, she meant the brick sized Motorola thing my parents forced me to carry in my backpack "for emergencies only."
***Most people would be worried about a fire hazard, but not us. After Tom's Christmas light debaucles of years past, the fire department had probably idiot-proofed our house.
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