Zooming

Zoom. A word that used to apply to race cars and superheroes. Now nearly everyone's doing it. We've had Skype and FaceTime for checking in with one or two people. Now, miracle of miracles, anyone who wants to, or has to, can gather in groups from the comfort of their home. I almost said "privacy," except I know I'm not the only one who cleans up the room behind me before I Zoom. A friend reminded me recently of how fortunate we are to have all these options, including videos of landmark events, to help us weather this time when we can't actually be with our loved ones. And she's right, but ... I know several people who have been doing these sorts of meetings for years in their office situations and find them perfectly normal. And that's great, but ... I truly am thankful to have these options, but ... I've been trying to figure out how to finish these sentences. For one thing, it's harder to hear people. Sometimes the sound blips and I miss something, other times I lose the thread of the conversation while I try to figure out which little face is speaking. But it turns out the truth is simpler than mechanical issues. I'm craving personal contact without a device between us. I'm craving a more intimate encounter, the ability to read body language, and have a personal back-and-forth conversation where the only problem is that we sometimes talk at the same time. I miss hugging people. I especially miss hugging people and then having lunch with them. And I miss being able to snatch a few fries from their lunch plate.