Updated: Apr 9
I will admit that my peer group and I are of a certain age, but we refuse to be called elderly. Nevertheless, this quarantine stuff has forced those of us no longer in the work force to learn yet another app, and it’s not a pretty sight.
After spending years successfully mastering Skype and Facetime, Spotify, Smart TVs, Iphones and the Amazon shopping app for supposed discounts at Whole Foods (but is really a tracking device), we now come upon Zoom, the only way to get together virtually with more than one person, in this time of extreme isolation.
Those who are single haven’t touched another human in a month. Those who are married are exchanging wicked jokes about mutual annihilation. So we meet up on Zoom, drinks in hand, to battle cabin fever.
There’s no better way to describe what a Zoom meet-up among the Boomer class is like than to transcribe an actual excerpt from my virtual happy hour with girlfriends last night:
“Hey, there you are!”
“I can’t see you.”
“Click on gallery view.”
“I can only see myself.”
“There’s a button. I think it’s on the upper right unless you’re on an Ipad. Then it’s on the lower left, I think. I don’t know. I don’t have an Ipad.”
“What are you on?”
“I went in through the invite, not Zoom. Maybe I should go in through Zoom.”
“Marian, we can’t hear you.”
“Marian, turn the volume up on your computer.”
“Uh oh. We just lost Marian.”
“I still can’t see anyone.”
“Take the sticky thing off your camera.”
“I’m on my phone now.”
“When you get the screen, do you click on join meeting or the meeting ID thingy?”
“Nothing happens when I click.”
“You have to restart your computer.”
“I’m not on my computer.”
“Wait, ok. Can you hear me?”
“I clicked on the link in the email and it didn’t work.”
“We can hear you. We just can’t see you. But your photo is very pretty.”
“Are you still there?”
—time to refill my wine glass.