Where better to ring in the millennium than cyberspace? Entering the Year 2000, the Internet symbolizes bold hope -- innovation, wealth, intimacy -- and some noteworthy fears, too. With the world more dependent on technology every day, what future crises like the Y2K problem await?
So I spent New Year's Eve online. My wife and I had already decided to stay home in New York City for the big event, preferring to mark the momentous occasion with our one-year-old daughter. Logging on seemed like a plausible surrogate for all those parties we were missing, an opportunity to interact instead of just soaking up television images.I wanted to roam the globe virtually, inserting myself digitally into celebrations I couldn't actually visit. But much of the time I felt isolated and overwhelmed. Despite all the metaphors about cyberspace as a virtual world, the Net remains mainly a tool, not a place. Here's my New Year's Eve diary:
Dec. 31, 1999, 4:46 a.m. EST: I sign on to catch the arrival of 2000 in Tonga and Kiribati, the first nations to greet the new millennium. After frantically flipping through sites that promised around-the-world Webcasts, including one called ForTheNews that claimed exclusive online rights for Tonga, I can't find any news from these locales.
4:52 A.M.: A dozen or so people are hanging out in a Yahoo! chat room devoted to the millennium, but the conversation is interrupted repeatedly by a doomsayer named RockinJoe1999 who proclaims, "LESS THAN 23 HOURS TIL Y2K! There will be TERRORIST ATTACKS, water SUPPLY shortages, chaos in city areas...be prepared."
5:02 a.m.: It's now 2000 in Tonga, and I've failed to connect to the celebration. I can't find any sites with live updates from the island nation. I do, however, learn that Tonga's population is 109,082, and that squash and coconuts are the main crops.
3:34 p.m.: The new millennium has already swept across Asia, so if Y2K problems are going to crop up, there should be word by now. I stop by the International Y2K Cooperation Center site, which informs me that China, Japan, Korea, Australia and others are "reported normal." The few bugs I can find don't appear apocalyptic. At the official Star Trek Web site, the program guide says a "Star Trek: Voyager" episode will air on "1/1/1900."
4:20 p.m.: New Year's has come and gone in Moscow. I've been struggling with a site called EarthCam, which touts Internet cameras providing images from every time zone. I try St. Petersburg and Jerusalem, too. No matter which city I try to view, the camera images refuse to appear. The ads, however, pop up just fine.
4:33 p.m.: Thinking ahead for New Year's Day, I visit Kozmo.com and rent "Arlington Road" on DVD (none of those premillennial videotapes for me). A messenger arrives 50 minutes later with the movie.
6:59 p.m.: One of the biggest celebrations of all, the arrival of the millennium in London, is a minute away. Since the Webcams have failed me, I try the MSNBC.com site, which carries live video from the MSNBC cable channel. This works splendidly, and I watch London's fireworks light up a tiny window on my screen. Then I realize I'm simply watching TV on the Web. What's the point?
7:40 p.m.: At the Zone 2000 site, I learn of another Y2K mixup: slot machines at Delaware racetracks have stopped working.
9:50 P.M.: My daughter is tucked into her crib, so I'm ready to start celebrating, virtual-style. I find a New York City chat room and hang out there for a while, but the conversation never gets much past "r u single?" One chat-room denizen remarks, "We should get out and do something."
10:35 p.m.: To break the silence at my computer, I stop by Spinner.com, a site that broadcasts music over the Web. Spinner has set up a special Y2K-theme station for the big event. Pink Floyd's "Goodbye Blue Sky" erupts from my laptop's speakers.
10:51 p.m.: After talking to strangers all evening, finally someone I know pops up online. My friends Doug and Caroline, who live just down the street but are staying with family in Cincinnati, have just contacted us through a private chat room. My wife and I spend an agreeable half-hour chatting with them.
11:25 p.m.: Yahoo is hosting a chat from Times Square in cooperation with EarthCam, the live-image site I've battled with all day. Others also complain about not getting images. "I am going to watch it on the tube so see y'all later," types one visitor.
11:39 p.m.: On AOL, a chat host stationed in Times Square describes the scene for the online audience. The host mentions helicopters flying over constantly. I can hear them myself, out my window: the first sense of connection I've felt to this virtual party.
11:47 p.m.: I make a final Y2K news check at WSJ.com, where my colleagues have been filing updates from around the world. No disasters.
11:59 p.m.: The AOL chat host, named NYC LIVE2000, begins constant updates: "The ball's starting now ... one minute ... everybody is roaring! Ball's flashing like crazy!"
Jan. 1, 2000, 12:00 a.m.: A little AOL window pops up on my screen to notify me that the millennium has officially arrived. My wife and I exchange happy New Year's wishes with our friends in Cincinnati while the AOL host is gushing. "Even policemen are hugging civilians!" reads the feed from Times Square.
12:15 a.m.: I'm ready to call it a night. I stop by the Citibank Web site for a final bit of Y2K paranoia and check my account balance. Yep, the money's still there. I log off for a glass of nonvirtual champagne.