Man, all this talk about Usenet, trolls, Geek Code…. it just keeps the memories rushing back! I remember so clearly having to compile every stupid application that people wanted to run. Not Windows stuff, mind you – real apps run on Unix servers via telnet clients, character/curses-based. Gopher, Archie, Wais, IRC. There weren’t any handy RPM repos sitting around with pre-compiled stuff waiting to be loaded and run. You searched until you found a copy of the code that had been ported to the O/S you were running, or as close to it as you could find. Then you took a stab in the dark and tried to compile. Rarely, and I mean rarely, did it compile the first time and run without complaining of a missing dependency or library. Take the missing thing, spend hours hunting it down, and try to compile it. Another issue, track it down, try to sort it out. Eventually, with luck on your side, you’d start to get things to compile and install, and then start backing back out the hole you dug for yourself, until you got back to the original program you wanted to install. If all went right and nothing was missed, the main program compiled, installed, and ran without much more issue.
At times the app you wanted wasn’t completely ported to the O/S you were running. So, try to compile it anyway, and then dig through the code to try and figure out what it didn’t like – library file named wrong, in the wrong place – those were things that could be fixed and dealt with. Sometimes the errors were unfixable without being a code-monkey, and you just did without the app.
Anyway, I digress. The reason I started writing this post was because all the memories were flooding back. Those of you who shared that time with me will remember how cool it was to be a geek on the Internet back then. Why, just the mention of DTMF or DNS was enough to make the girls drool. Heck, it was nothing to walk into a bar, mention you were a sysadmin, and the “strange” would line up around the corner. There were times that we got so tired and just wanted some peaceful drinking, that we’d tell the girls we we racecar drivers or pro-baseball players just to get them to leave us alone.
Ah, the good ole days…








