<story><title>Thanks for Trumpet Winsock</title><url>http://thanksfortrumpetwinsock.com/</url></story><parent_chain><item><author>peckrob</author><text>Oh man, the memories.&lt;p&gt;For people who have grown up in a hyper-connected always-online world, it&amp;#x27;s hard to explain the pure &lt;i&gt;joy&lt;/i&gt; of hearing the sound of your computer picking up the phone and sending those tones [0]. Because it meant going from isolated, disconnected and unitary to being part of a wider world.&lt;p&gt;Suddenly, everything was at your fingertips and it was intoxicating to me as a teenager. Fire up Trumpet Winsock and dial into the local mom and pop ISP. Suddenly you&amp;#x27;re surfing the early web using Netscape. Or open up WinVN and read some newsgroups. Or spend way, way too many hours playing MUDs (seriously, I think I spent almost every night MUDding during my teenage years).&lt;p&gt;Or learning cool HTML tricks by looking at the source of a page (back when pages were simple and you could tell things by looking at the source). Some of my earliest exposure to &amp;quot;programming&amp;quot; was because I wanted to make cool web things on my 1mb of ISP provided web space.&lt;p&gt;So yes, thank you Trumpet Winsock. Without you my formative years would have been very different and I likely wouldn&amp;#x27;t be in the career I&amp;#x27;m in now.&lt;p&gt;[0] &lt;a href=&quot;http:&amp;#x2F;&amp;#x2F;www.windytan.com&amp;#x2F;2012&amp;#x2F;11&amp;#x2F;the-sound-of-dialup-pictured.html&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;http:&amp;#x2F;&amp;#x2F;www.windytan.com&amp;#x2F;2012&amp;#x2F;11&amp;#x2F;the-sound-of-dialup-pictured...&lt;/a&gt;</text></item></parent_chain><comment><author>jlgaddis</author><text>&amp;gt; &lt;i&gt;those tones&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http:&amp;#x2F;&amp;#x2F;evilrouters.net&amp;#x2F;56k.mp3&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;http:&amp;#x2F;&amp;#x2F;evilrouters.net&amp;#x2F;56k.mp3&lt;/a&gt; (MP3)&lt;p&gt;It&amp;#x27;s my ring tone.  I love the weird looks on people&amp;#x27;s faces when I&amp;#x27;m in a meeting and my phone rings -- especially the &amp;quot;older&amp;quot; crowd (some of the &amp;quot;youngsters&amp;quot; don&amp;#x27;t recognize the sound).</text></comment>
<story><title>Thanks for Trumpet Winsock</title><url>http://thanksfortrumpetwinsock.com/</url></story><parent_chain><item><author>peckrob</author><text>Oh man, the memories.&lt;p&gt;For people who have grown up in a hyper-connected always-online world, it&amp;#x27;s hard to explain the pure &lt;i&gt;joy&lt;/i&gt; of hearing the sound of your computer picking up the phone and sending those tones [0]. Because it meant going from isolated, disconnected and unitary to being part of a wider world.&lt;p&gt;Suddenly, everything was at your fingertips and it was intoxicating to me as a teenager. Fire up Trumpet Winsock and dial into the local mom and pop ISP. Suddenly you&amp;#x27;re surfing the early web using Netscape. Or open up WinVN and read some newsgroups. Or spend way, way too many hours playing MUDs (seriously, I think I spent almost every night MUDding during my teenage years).&lt;p&gt;Or learning cool HTML tricks by looking at the source of a page (back when pages were simple and you could tell things by looking at the source). Some of my earliest exposure to &amp;quot;programming&amp;quot; was because I wanted to make cool web things on my 1mb of ISP provided web space.&lt;p&gt;So yes, thank you Trumpet Winsock. Without you my formative years would have been very different and I likely wouldn&amp;#x27;t be in the career I&amp;#x27;m in now.&lt;p&gt;[0] &lt;a href=&quot;http:&amp;#x2F;&amp;#x2F;www.windytan.com&amp;#x2F;2012&amp;#x2F;11&amp;#x2F;the-sound-of-dialup-pictured.html&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;http:&amp;#x2F;&amp;#x2F;www.windytan.com&amp;#x2F;2012&amp;#x2F;11&amp;#x2F;the-sound-of-dialup-pictured...&lt;/a&gt;</text></item></parent_chain><comment><author>oinksoft</author><text>It surprises me how clearly I remember the first time I used the internet in 1995 (I was barely 7). My father worked on a predecessor to modern email in the 80s and by then was no longer programming, working in telecom instead. He had a keen interest in the internet, but it was a long time relatively speaking before we could justify the expense of a computer, modem, and home connection (service provided by Erols).&lt;p&gt;He loaded up AltaVista and explained what a search engine was, in terms that I could understand, by relating it to a library catalog. I&amp;#x27;d only used those DOS catalogs to that point, and they were picky. I carefully typed on the Power Mac&amp;#x27;s keyboard, &amp;quot;Davis, Jim&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;As the results crawled down the screen, I knew immediately that this was a world apart from reading old Garfield books at the library, that it was something totally new (and daunting). I really didn&amp;#x27;t know what to make of it.&lt;p&gt;A few days later I snuck into the office and printed out the career statistics of &amp;quot;Moon, Warren&amp;quot;.</text></comment>