Automatic Writing

Gopher

The U's Gopher system was the early way around the Net
Sherri Cruz
Star Tribune
Published November 5, 2001

Before Jeff Bezos, before Marc Andreessen, software engineers Mark McCahill, Farhad Anklesaria and a team of developers at the University of Minnesota created a campus-wide information system that changed the way people used the Internet.

The system, which came to be known as Gopher -- named for the school's furry, buck-toothed mascot and its fetching quality -- caused quite a stir when the Gopher team presented it to the design committee in 1991. Seems Gopher wasn't quite what the committee had in mind, but the Gopher gang said it was better than the committee-designed system. So there was nothing left to do but set it free on the Internet.

Gopher was a hit. Universities and libraries all over the world quickly began using Gopher. The University of Minnesota eventually adopted it, too. With Gopher, users could quickly find, search and retrieve information and resources from computers (Gopher servers) connected to the Internet. The user was presented with a menu that listed choices linking to plain-text information.

The user-friendly Gopher made the Internet a neat and orderly place, like a library. Soon other technologies were built to enhance Gopher. One example was Veronica, a searchable index of Gopher menus, which did for Gopher sort of what Google does for the Web.

But Gopher was just the beginning.

Within three years, Gopher was being pushed aside by the World Wide Web, another protocol for the Internet conceived by Tim Berners-Lee and others at CERN, the European Organization for Nuclear Research, based in Geneva.

Still in college at the time, Andreessen launched the Web browser Mosaic, one of the early ways to view Web pages. Andreessen later founded Netscape, which released Navigator, and was followed by Microsoft's Internet Explorer.

Then regular people wanted home pages, and companies sprang up to build those pages. Businesses got in the game. Start-ups formed to help businesses put up their Web brochures and later e-commerce sites and then business-to-business sites. Advertisers dug in, too. Now there are banners, pop-ups, pop-overs and pop-unders, the incessant pop-all-over XCam ad as well as brilliant graphics, animation, audio and video and the awesome potential that the Internet still holds.

Hogs and portals

Ten years later, the Internet landscape has changed. Gopher has been virtually knocked out by the Web but maintains a cult following. As McCahill and Anklesaria, both 40 years old, look back at the Gopher days, they find themselves where they started.

"In a funny way, I'm still working on a campus information system" for the University of Minnesota, McCahill said.

Only this time the rage on campus is portals. The team, led by McCahill, is working on a "personalized dynamic portal site" for the university's Academic Health Center. It will stitch together the related systems and offer custom interactive news delivery for faculty via the Net.

They also are working on software to make personalized hog futures contracts so farmers can negotiate better deals. Hog contracts are complex because the pricing for next year's hogs is the market's best guess, McCahill said. The program works by mixing in current futures pricing, historical pricing data, different types of contracts and various calculations, to reach the market price for hogs and what a given contract might pay.

"We learned a lot about hogs," McCahill said. Next up: Cattle contracts.

This kind of outreach work is becoming a more common way for the university to earn money because it's getting less state support, he said.

McCahill's office looks like what you might expect from someone who leads a bunch of developers: a windsurfing board leaning against the wall; computer plugs, cords and motherboards in scattered heaps; an array of Internet books lining the shelves, including a stray "Atoms and Molecules" text from his days at the university as a chemistry major; and piles of CDs including the Ramones, Herbie Hancock and Steely Dan.

Tall, thin and ponytailed, McCahill plugs away on his Apple laptop, a nifty G4 Titanium model. He prefers the Mac (with a Linux operating system) for a few reasons. One, he dislikes the extent that Microsoft operating systems have saturated the industry. And two, he's working on video applications, and Apple's iMovie video software is easier to use.

Those were the days

These days he has a lot more managing to do because his department -- Academic and Distributed Computing Services -- has grown. Ten years ago, he had six people; today he has 20. He writes enough software to stay in the loop. "I'm always suspicious of mangers that don't write software," he said.

While McCahill enjoys what he's doing today, he is nostalgic about the Gopher days.

Ten years ago, the Internet was undeveloped territory, and it was easier to be inventive, McCahill said. "Back then a small group of developers could make a difference." The insights were a little easier to come by, and most of the players were individuals or small teams. "You didn't have the big computer companies muddying the water," he said. Microsoft didn't get into the Internet until much of the pioneering work was done.

Today, he said, everything has been mined, and millions of eyes are exploring Internet technologies.

In the Gopher era, the Internet wasn't yet commercialized and people weren't developing applications to make money. The Gopher project didn't even have a budget, McCahill said.

"We did it because we thought it was a cool piece of software," he said. In addition, the capital markets weren't Internet-hungry yet. "There wasn't a big venture-capital market trying to commercialize this stuff," he said.

"We were boring," Anklesaria said facetiously. "We were just academic guys."

Chaos over order

Over the years, McCahill and Anklesaria have received a lot of flak about missing the boat, failing to see the coming Web trend and earning virtually nothing from Gopher. The university didn't make money from Gopher either. By the time it began charging a server access fee, it was too late -- the Web had consumed the Internet. "We didn't think to license or patent it," McCahill said.

McCahill and Anklesaria have given a lot of thought to what could have been, but they both contend that Gopher was a means of organizing the Internet and wasn't meant to compete with the Web. The Web and Gopher easily could have coexisted.

To some extent they do. Today there are plenty of avid Gopher fans, such as Cameron Kaiser. He said he still uses Gopher because it is lightweight and fast and delivers information without ads and long download times. He even uses Gopher on his Commodore 64 -- which says a few things about Kaiser. "Mind you, the Web isn't going to go away, but I think there's definite room for both technologies to coexist," Kaiser said.

"The Web definitely has a bigger variety, but I'm sure many will agree that quantity doesn't mean quality." Much of the information that exists on Gopher servers is academic-and government-oriented.

But good luck tapping into a Gopher server. Most aren't being maintained anymore, and Microsoft's Internet Explorer will not get you anywhere near a Gopher. Netscape 4.0 and higher or a Lynx browser will, however.

Philip Frana said that while Gopher is a good illustration of pioneering an Internet culture, its downfall says something about society. Frana is software history project manager for the Charles Babbage Institute, a center at the University of Minnesota devoted to the history of computing.

"The major thing -- that tells us a lot about ourselves -- is we like the Web better," he said. Gopher prestructured everything, while the Web "isn't like that at all." People chose disorganization over order.

Tea with his son

Anklesaria, who wrote much of the Gopher software, is less than enthusiastic about the Internet's future. The Internet has taken a detour, he said, "In many ways, a bad one." He calls the dot-com days a "dark, dead time" in Internet history -- not because the dot-coms withered, but because glitz and banner ads reigned and hardware innovation was stagnant. Corporations such as Microsoft have taken over, Anklesaria said. He is adamant about maintaining his "Microsoft-free" status.

The one spark, Anklesaria said, is the open-source movement, which means sharing free or near-free software and code via the Internet. Red Hat's Linux operating system is an example of open-source software. "We try to pay back in kind," Anklesaria said. If they use a company's free software, they might in turn buy the company's server products. One other advantage of open-source is that a developer can take over and enhance an application where the original developer left off.

Today McCahill and Anklesaria also have a life; they don't go home to tinker. "Heck no," Anklesaria said. He has a wife and an 8-year-old son with whom he shares tea after school. "That's very valuable because that time will never come again," Anklesaria said.

McCahill just bought a synthesizer and is interested in music.

They're not looking to invent the next Internet technology and are content with being onetime Internet rock stars. Those were the days when they spoke at Internet conferences and annual GopherCons -- conventions revolving around Gopher and Internet technologies. They mingled with fellow pioneers such as the Web's Burners-Lee, Internet hero John Postel -- who died in 1998 -- and Vint Cerf, who developed Internet protocol.

"It was a big deal when Vint Cerf said, 'Hey, you did a good thing with this,'" McCahill said.

"It was fun," Anklesaria said. "My father still looks at me curiously."

There is a sense of satisfaction too, that Gopher has earned a place in Internet history.

"We were in the right place at the right time with the right answer," McCahill said.

Old School Meets Urban Hip at Hawleywood's; Reality Show?

I walked into Hawleywood's Barber Shop in Costa Mesa and tattooed barbers and men bibbed in chairs glowered. Owner Donnie Hawley promptly banished me to a chair outside.

From the outside looking in, I could see the signs in the window: "The Biggest Little Shop in Costa Mesa," "World Famous," "The Proper Way to Barber."

Alas, Hawley popped his head back out.

"I talked to the guys," he said. "They're going to let you come in."

Rule No. 1 broken: "No broads."

The next unspoken rule: Don't call Hawley a "hairdresser."

He's a barber, a decidedly old school one at that with rockabilly flair.

He and his fellow barbers give hot-towel shaves using a straight razor.

"You'll feel like a million dollars," he said.

It's a place where guys drink Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, cuss, flip through Playboy and share manly woes (think women problems).

Some more rules: No Ugg boots, no Oakley Razorblade glasses, no fanny packs (unless you're a cop), no "tough guy attitudes."

On the jukebox: Eddie Cochran, Gene Vincent, early Elvis, Ronnie Dawson, Johnny Cash.

The decor: A tuxedoed monster named Benson at the door, a mounted deer head, Hank Williams and Johnny Cash photos, two-tone brown tiled floor, Pabst Blue Ribbon signs.

This ain't no metrosexual salon.

"I wanted to have a place where men can come to be men," Hawley said.

Glass beer mugs sit on window shelves. Each has a customer's name on it.

"That's the Pabst VIP club," he said.

Pabst Brewing Co. sponsors the display.

Guys who don't show up for three months are kicked out of the club, he said. If Hawleywood's finds out you've been to another barber, you're out for sure.

Hawleywood's customers range from the everyday to the famous. They include a local high school principal (who shall remain nameless), pilots, cops (the police station is nearby) and doctors.

Even Newport Beach hairdressers featured in a reality TV pilot go to Hawleywood's, according to Hawley.

Bigger celebrity customers include Kiefer Sutherland and Lee Rocker of the Stray Cats.

Clean-cut guys such as Costa Mesa entrepreneur Milo Benigno are regulars.

Benigno considers Hawleywood's a sanctuary.

"The guys here actually listen to you," he said. "It's like therapy."

The haircuts?

"This is by far definitely the best," Benigno said.

"People see our haircuts and know it's our haircuts," Hawley said. "See how everything blends. You can only get that with the razor and the clipper."

Hawleywood's does flat tops, tapers, pomps and puffs.

Cuts are $15.

Hawley is opening another shop in Long Beach.

Hawleywood's Two is set to have four times the space of the teeny tiny Costa Mesa shop. It also will have an outside area with a bar and Tiki grass huts.

Hawley has a side business selling his Layrite brand of pomade.

Layrite is sold in about 70 barbershops and stores, including Flamingo Barbershop in Las Vegas, Red Zone in Los Angeles and Grease Monkey in Canada.

"This holds like wax but washes out like gel," he said.

Dressed in a tie and white barber jacket, Hawley sports a gold star on his front tooth and is covered in tattoos.

On his left hand is "Love Lost," or "Lost Love," depending on which way you look at him. He's got clippers inked on his thumb, a razor on his neck, a barber pole under his right eye and a star in his ear.

He got some of them at Sid's Tattoo Parlor in Santa Ana, which also did Hawleywood's kitschy logo.

Hawley travels to tattoo and art festivals spreading his brand of barbering. He just got back from Japan, where they think he's famous. He said he even signed autographs.

"I was a star in Tokyo," he said.

So where's the reality show, you ask.

Hawleywood's is being filmed for a possible A&E reality series, he said.

Hawley has little competition in at least one respect: There are few barbers.

The profession has faded since its 1940s and 1950s heyday. Barbers became stylists and men got used to going to places such as Great Expectations and Supercuts, he said.

"Everything turned unisex," Hawley laments. "It makes me sick and hurts my heart."

The technical difference between a barber and a stylist is a barber also does shaves and trims beards. But Hawley argues there's more to being a barber than that.

Barbers know better how to cut men's hair, he said.

Recruiting barbers is tough, Hawley said.

"I apprentice everybody," he said.

He hired one of his four barbers from a nearby coffeehouse. All barbers need a state license, so they have to go to school. There are plenty of cosmetology schools but few barber schools.

Augustine Souza, owner of Real Barber College in Anaheim, said his students are in demand.

"Schools don't teach men's haircutting," he said.

Souza was a barber for 52 years, including 30 years in the Navy.

"We have jobs waiting for students," he said.

Right now, the school has about 50 barbering students, mostly guys. Barbering is good money, he said. Barbers who complete the state's required 1,500 hours of coursework can earn $800 to $ 1,000 a week.

A short history of barbers, according to Hawley: They "were the first doctors."

The red in the barber pole symbolizes blood and blue veins, he said. Barbers kept bloodsucking leeches in a container that looked like a barber pole for medicinal purposes.

"They also pulled teeth," he said. "It's in our history."

Hawley said he got the idea to be a barber as a kid, when he moved in with his aunt and uncle. They owned a few barbershops in Torrance.

After giving Mohawks to a local high school football team, he said he discovered his calling.

"I haven't stopped since," he said.

One more rule: As you leave Hawleywood's, there's no handshaking-because of greasy hands-only knuckle taps.

Hawley with customer: "People see our haircuts and know It's our haircuts," he says