A Day at the Thomas M. Wernert Center — 2004

August 2004

I woke up this morning and, for a second, completely forgot what year it was.

No smartphone sitting beside me. No notifications. No endless scrolling.

Just my alarm clock, a little radio playing quietly, and the sound of a city already waking up outside.

I got dressed and headed over to the Thomas M. Wernert Center.

Walking through the doors felt like stepping into another world. The TV was on in the background, probably some morning program, while people talked around the room. There were computers sitting on desks, bulky CRT monitors glowing with that familiar Windows XP screen.

I sat down at one of them.

You've Got Mail.

I couldn't help but smile.

I opened MSN Messenger and checked to see who was online. A couple of friends had those little green status icons beside their names.

My screen name was something ridiculous, because apparently that's what everyone did in 2004.

After a while, I wandered away from the computer and grabbed something to drink.

Someone had a CD playing.

It was one of those moments where everything just felt... normal.

No TikTok.

No Instagram.

No smartphones.

Just people hanging out.

Someone was talking about a new movie they'd seen. Someone else was talking about their weekend. Another person was flipping through a magazine.

Later, I played some games for a while.

The afternoon went by slowly, but in a good way.

Eventually I found myself sitting near the television, watching whatever happened to be on. The room was filled with the sounds of conversations, the TV, and the occasional ring of a landline phone.

I looked around and thought:

I could get used to this.

There's something strange about 2004.

Everything seemed slower.

You actually had to wait for things.

If you wanted to talk to somebody, you called them.

If you wanted to see what they were doing, you had to actually go somewhere.

If you wanted music, you carried around a CD player or an MP3 player.

And if you wanted to disappear for a while?

You just logged off.

By the time I left the center, the sun was starting to go down.

I headed home with my headphones on, listening to my favorite songs and watching cars pass by.

For once, I wasn't thinking about the future.

I was just enjoying being here.

August 2004.

No smartphones.

No social media feeds.

No constant notifications.

Just a regular day.

And honestly?

Maybe that's what made it special.