90s

The website had one paragraph, seven animated workers, and a promise to return soon.

A text window became a room, the person with an at-sign became law, and one mistyped command became public.

Friendship required memorizing a number longer than your home phone and waiting for the little uh-oh.

A tiny music player opened a portal of colors powerful enough to make homework impossible.

The song took four hours, reached 99 percent, and became something recorded from a radio in a bathroom.

Portable digital music arrived with enough room for an album, assuming the album showed discipline.

Four batteries charged all night so the handheld could survive part of a car ride.

Thirty tiny buttons transformed your wrist into a business computer nobody could actually type on.

A digital camera saved photographs onto the same square disks as homework.

A scooter ride became a tour of the boxes, cables, pipes, towers, and one camera that keep a neighborhood interesting.