JOHNNY INTERNET: Chapter One

Johnny was usually a good boy. In school he was always smart enough to get someone else to pull the tricks he thought up on those long, boring afternoons. Then he would step in and join the fun, of course, like with the famous "aphid races" in 6th grade social studies class:

One day during the teacher's temporary absence he discovered tiny green aphids on the potted geraniums set along the sunny windowsills at the back of the room. All it took was a whispered "hey, what if we -- " and the next thing you know the back of the room was in an uproar! Johnny and four or five associates had lined up a herd of of aphids, picked favorites, and were urging the "racers" on -- the silly little bugs went nowhere, of course, and the ultimate absurdity of it all was simply hilarious. The giggle fits went on long into the afternoon, even after order had been restored!

Years later Johnny went to the university and earned a couple of degrees. He was a good boy and got mostly A's, but there was something disquieting about the whole process that caused him to pull back and rebel toward the end. The closer he got to the world of his professors, the less he wanted to go there. Somehow he served his time and escaped with honors, only to find he was. . .a teacher!

One divorce, several resignations, and a couple of monumental lifestyle upheavals later, Johnny found himself on the road, determined to live the life of an artist. And for the record, Johnny still considers himself one -- if you walked through his house, you would quickly agree. But the gist of these years is best summed up in a line from one of the songs he wrote early on:

"Fighting to make it, the life of an artist, is something a sane man should fear!"

Johnny created one ignored masterpiece after another. His unsold wonders followed him through an amazing sequence of flips-flops, revelations, and part-time jobs. They litter his life still. His paintings cover the walls. The bronze castings perch on every shelf and table. A pile of dusty cassettes marks his contribution to rock and roll: one of them is a master recording of the only official live, public performance by the Zoo Pilots ©. . .songs like "You Have Been Blown Up in the Name of the Lord," "Anthrax Boogie," "Butternut Street," and "El Salvador" still bring a grin and sound as fresh as ever. Their genesis coincided with something else, too: his first Mac!

It was a wondrous thing. He used it mostly to make band posters and weird promotional materials to send to publishers and record companies. Other than that, Johnny called it "the two thousand dollar typewriter." In that capacity it was fantastic, of course: who could ever return to the days of cranking a roller up and down to align the printed words on the page -- no more erasing, no more correction tapes, and being able to change fonts and type sizes on the fly was simply outstanding! But it was the old MacPaint graphics that sucked him in, and Johnny cranked out crazy pictures by the score.

Eventually he discovered color: the LC II opened up whole new worlds, even if the black-and-white StyleWriter limited what he could actually show to anyone. By this time Johnny was also back in college taking studio art courses in drawing, painting, bronze casting, mold-making, and design. The Zoo Pilots belonged to another time. He would show them all what he was made of, how good he was and how unique. He got local arts council grants and completed major projects. He had a show in a downtown gallery and sold a sculpture for a thousand dollars. He forgot the words to the old song and charged ahead. Dust gathered on the LC. . .

Then something happened: he'd read about the Internet before, and now there was something called the "World Wide Web." He heard about the pictures. He heard about the creativity. (Some of this sounded like 6th grade aphid races, too, which really got him excited.) People were having great fun somewhere, and it sounded like anyone could join the party! When Internet access finally came to the small town where he lived, he took a deep breath, plunked down way too much for a modem, and jumped in!

The time was mid-autumn, 1995. His 14.4Kbps access was activated. Johnny booted up the LC II, connected, fired up Netscape, and experienced one of the greatest epiphanies of his life: "so THAT's what this thing is for!" (Fireworks! Choirs of angels!! Atlantis rising from the deep!!!) He opened the digital spigot and the universe gushed out -- he was browsing the Great Magazine Stand in the Sky. He was stunned. . .more than that, though, he was stirred up! This was new. This was beyond imagining. This was also a stage, a venue, an incredible opportunity. He would have his own web site or die trying. He would build it around the bizarre cat-skull bronzes he had recently cast and the songs he had written. He would be a star. He would call it the "ZOO ZONE"!

That's when it all started. He didn't realize it at the time, of course, but this was one giggle fit that was going to last. The ZOO ZONE slowly came to life the following spring as Johnny read the articles and figured out what to do. Using PageMill at first and then discovering the joys of manual coding, he built what he conceived of as a giant poster in cyberspace. Just minutes before leaving the house to go to a party where there would be an Internet-ready Mac nearby, he uploaded the first files. Upon arriving at Jaimo and Diane's place, he went straight to the computer: there, for the first time ever, he typed in his own domain name and saw the page come to life in beautiful color on someone else's machine. The thrill was impossible to describe. He was prouder than proud: he had done it! The first thing anyone said to him when he rejoined the gathering and sat down was, "Why John, you're beaming!"

No more than a handful of people in that particular crowd had ever seen a web site or could say what one was, but it didn't matter. He was Mister Bleeding Edge. He was newer than new. He possessed esoteric knowledge. To himself, at least, he was a (bleep)ing star! Although he didn't know it yet, he was on the road to his next incarnation. Before summer turned to fall, he'd be staying up later and longer, redoing the ZONE with more and more graphics, laboriously rendered and uploaded at 15 MHz with 8 MB of RAM. When the leaves began to turn and drop, his former self fell by the wayside too. He was happily lost in cyberspace. He had become. . .Johnny Internet!

(Next week: Chapter Two)

Don't forget! The Farr Site Discussion Board is always open, day or night. What could be more comforting?

Offficial Farr Site Lifestyle Disclaimer and Tip: All stunts performed by professional manic-depressive weirdo. Do not try this at home! If you absolutely must, do what Johnny did and marry someone with a real job. Tell him or her that creative types are like human lotto tickets: most of 'em aren't worth ____, but every now and then you hit it big! (That might buy you a decade or two. . .)

Sneak Preview! Chapter Two will cover "Zoofloovia '96," the worlds first virtual web site, and we'll take a peek at the Great Vision of '97. And what does El Rito have to do with it all?

John H. Farr also edits the Apple Computer News for Applelinks.com) and welcomes your comments. His own web site, the ZOO ZONE, is now on steroids, thanks to Grover and his G3-upgraded server. Cool!