Two months ago, I didn't know their names.
Two months, ago, I didn't know what they looked like, how they dressed or how they liked to furnish their homes. (lava lamps, really?)
Two months ago, they were perfect and total strangers.
Now I am in their house. I am at their kitchen table. I am in their bedroom. Sometimes for 4 or 5 hours a day!
Of course I'm referring to the phenomena of video conferencing, be it Zoom™, Meetings™ or Teams™. Can behemoths like Google and MicroSoft really trademark those words? I think under the current regime and free-floating corruption, corporations with enough money and morally ambiguous congresspeople like Susan Collins or Lisa Murkowski or Tom Cotton, can do just about anything they want.
But I digress.
I'm new to the little green light that sits atop my computer like a well armed sniper/guard sits in a prison tower. And I must say it's a little disconcerting. Don't get me wrong, I love working from home, free from the noisy distraction found at The Long Table of Mediocrity™.
But I don't love being tethered to the computer. Good writing requires focus. And unfocus. I know I'm at my best when I can walk, exercise, read a newspaper, and let my mind flitter about.
I also don't love being on camera. As Seth Myers so aptly put it, the camera not only adds 10 lbs. it adds 10 years. And believe me, no one is going to want to hire a 54 year old copywriter.
Even worse, now I have to listen to my wife who insists I replace all my favorite old T-shirts, with the worn out collars and the holes in the underarms, and replace them with something respectable.
Damnit, I hate when she's right.
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