I lived as if it were 1993 for a week and here’s what happened

Last week I embarked on an experiment. I wanted to know how it would feel to live as if it was 1993 again. That year was the tail end of the analog time, just before the Internet and Windows 95 and the first dot com bubble. I was little then, so I had some memory of what things were like. But could I still work in that world today?

For a week I lived without modern technology unless it was absolutely necessary for work and relief. I carried a diskman, cut in a paper planner and called phone calls instead of sending text. It was chaotic to begin with, but strangely soothing when it was over. That’s how my week went.

Woke up as normal. Wait, no I didn’t. My phone alarm did not go off because I no longer had a smartphone. They had not been invented yet. I was late. Got up, rushed around, got my kids fed and dressed and at school.

I completely forgot what to do next because I had no reminders or even a calendar. At this time, I thought I might have prepared a little before I started this experiment.

Fortunately, I actually lived through 1993 once already, albeit as a child, but at least I knew what to look for. However, tracking a functioning disk man was no simple feat. The sparseers had a bunch, almost everyone. Finally, I found one that worked well enough, along with some CDs: Alice in Chains, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Ace of Bass.

For those who never used one, a Discman is a portable CD player about the size of a pocketbook. It skips as you walk, eat AA batteries and look like a museum object. I usually stream music from YouTube music, but for this week I had to rely on physical records.

I also took a Blue Jays-Vimpel celebrating their two back-to-back World Series victories in 1992 and 1993.

Media in the 90s struck differently

The disc was fragile and drained AA batteries almost as quickly as I could replace them. I had to charge them overnight. Yes, I used charges, so I guess I cheated a little. Discman was also incredibly quick to skip unless I stood perfectly.

There was none podcast In the 90s, I replaced those with Am Talk Radio for about a minute, and then switched to FM. It felt strange not to choose what to listen to On Demand, but it was also liberating. There was a minor thing I needed to worry about.

Admittedly, I used my xbox to play DVDs I borrowed from the library. Nobody had VHS, and I couldn’t even find a VHS player in the second hand stores, so we had to settle for DVD. But going to the library with my kids and picking out some movies brought back a deep nostalgia for blockbuster. My kids even had the same excitement I remember having, so this was a total victory. So to look at Simpsons every day, just like when I was a teenager.

I had to recreate the feeling of having a landline. We don’t have a landline here in the Drescher home so I turned my reliable Redmagic 10 Pro Over on a table in the hallway and it became our Defacto Home phone. It was strange. Every time I wanted to get in touch with someone, I had to go to the hallway and pick it up, just as I used to do with the family phone on the kitchen wall in the 90s.

I forced myself to call instead of sending messages, an event that surprised one of my friends completely surprised when his phone rang and I was at the other end. It may have been the first time I have ever called him, despite knowing him for years.

Discman began to jump like Mad on one of my daily jogs, which turned into a slow movement. For some reason it started to do this thing there when it started to skip, it never stopped. I found out that I had to remove the CD and put it back to reset it. I wanted to take an iPod over this, but I would have had to wait for another ten years.

Without my FastMail calendar Or Todoist, I was lost. My first two days were a slip, although in Wednesday I already got used to not having messages or social media. It was surprisingly refreshing, to be honest. I had also solved my task management problem by retrieving a daily planner from the dollar shop. I figured I would only use it for a week, so there was no point in squirting.

This required some initial self -discipline. There were no push notifications or buzzing smart watches, so I had to check the planner several times a day. Everything was manual. Adding events took the kind of thoughtful precision I had completely forgotten. There was more work, but I found out that it helped me focus. Writing tasks by hand made them feel real, and I seemed to remember them better too.

Thursday: Sending a postcard in the old way

I drove through my week by Thursday. I hadn’t gotten sick of Alice in chains or ace of bass, surprisingly. It would have been nice to have spread on a few more CDs, but I decided not to spend too much money on this.

I also sent a postcard to a friend living in Alberta, on the other side of the country from me here in Ottawa. I sent it as a joke. A real postcard. I even went and bought a stamp for that and everything. Normally I would have sent him a meme or gif over RCS or Messenger, but these things did not exist in 1993. In the 90s, I didn’t expect an immediate answer anyway.

I have been spoiled with games in modern times, because when I downloaded a copy of the original Sid Meier’s civilizations and fired it up, I was horrified. The graphics are practically neolithic. The alternatives are as basic as anything. I realized how far We have come into play.

I play on a modern PC or an Xbox Series X today, or strap my mission 2 on my head and play golf when I feel motivated. I am used to detailed graphics, radiation effects, wild -growing stories and high frames. Games in 1993 had none of it! And yet I remember playing civilization, Wolfenstein and Lemmings for hours at a time.

What I learned from a low -tech week

The day ended and with it, my living week in 1993. I realized how little any things have changed. For example, the microwave, the fridge, food and other appliances were pretty much all the same. But life was definitely slower and calmer in 1993. This experiment reminded me how often I trust modern technology to fill each free moment. Dropping it for a week made me more present at the moment, at least temporary.

I listened to the whole album instead of playlists. I remembered plans. I talked to people on the phone and laughed with my kids. This kind of thing means something.

Would I do it again? Sure. Would I recommend that? Maybe, especially if you feel overwhelmed by life. Just disconnect a little and track to an ace of bass.