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Zoomed out


Two months ago, when the seriousness of the pandemic finally hit Ohio, I didn’t know how I’d fill my days with so much closed. There were fitness and leisure companies offering their website’s paid content for free, but I couldn’t seem to be bothered. With the weather turning warmer, I went out on long walks. I tried buying a few crafting kits at JoAnn Fabrics online, but they sold out before I could go pick them up. Maybe embroidery and latch hook just weren’t meant for me.
The one thing I did connect with was Creative Mornings virtual FieldTrips. I had never used Zoom before, but now two months later I’ve been on probably a hundred of these sessions. I did follow-up with what seems like a more knowledgeable dermatologist, who prescribed a face cream that is helping my skin condition slowly, and hasn’t sent me to urgent care. Still, I’m a bit sensitive about how I look, so have alternated between the standard black screen on Zoom with my name, sometimes the full name, other times either just the first or my initials. Lately I’ve begun using what are supposed to be Zoom backgrounds, which my laptop is too old to fully utilize even if I had my camera on. It amused me last Sunday at a class seeing myself on screen, represented by two lounge chairs at a pool. Clearly wishful thinking.
I’ve also learned about various settings, including the fact that if you are unmuted (I always stay muted) and Zoom picks up audio from you, your screen takes center stage. Yesterday there were two problems with this. The first roundtable session I attended in the afternoon, a person came on unmuted (why the moderator didn’t check off the setting to mute people as they enter the meeting is baffling to me), and then obliviously was distracted, talking away on his phone as the moderator and two co-hosts repeatedly asked him to mute himself. Finally one of the co-hosts figured out how to mute everyone, so we were able to begin with much head shaking and eye rolling from those on camera.
The second encounter was far more frustrating. I was attending a session with two local, but recently heralded, documentary filmmakers, hosted by a film group from a neighboring city. I hadn’t attended any of this group’s events prior to yesterday, and didn’t know anyone in the group. I certainly didn’t expect to see porn right after launching Zoom and joining the session. That’s right – porn. Someone was unmuted and using audio, meaning that his or her screen was center stage, and it showed a penis entering something. I’m assuming it was a spammer of some kind. I heard yelling from people for the moderator to get rid of this person. Shaking my head, I went to the kitchen to finish gathering my dinner, hoping the problem would be quickly dealt with. Then it got quiet. When I came back a few minutes later, I was off the meeting. When I tried to reconnect, Zoom told me that since I was thrown out of the session I couldn’t rejoin. I was thrown out?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
I didn’t know what happened. My husband, who was in the living room at the time, heard someone mention a name that sounded similar to mine, so it’s possible the moderator confused me for the person sharing porn. At the time, I had a picture of the galaxy with my first name; didn’t look like porn to me. I tried switching accounts, but I guess Zoom recognized the IP address and still wouldn’t let me on. I left a note on the event page on Facebook, but no luck, and no email available to contact anyone. I managed to notice you could connect via phone, which after much waiting on hold, I was able to do that, but it wasn’t the same. Hearing the filmmakers talking about various pictures they were showing the group just made me fume all the more. Close to the end it dawned on me that I might be able to connect via my iPad, but by the time I downloaded the Zoom app and connected (by not signing in), the session was almost over. With all my aggravation over the situation, and trying to reconnect, I’d barely heard what was said in the webinar.
Clearly all the breath work sessions I’ve participated in with Creative Mornings are a waste of time since I’m still aggravated. It brings back bad old memories of trying to connect with a local film group that was way too cliquish for me, and way too whiny the last time I did attend one of their in-person get-togethers. I always hear people going on about finding your tribe; I keep trying, but can’t connect.
I also began to see the ludicrous list of Zoom sessions I’d been attending for what they really are – a distraction. Do I really need to take a virtual walk in a Boston park with a dog and a person I don’t know? As entertaining as it might be to some, the answer is No. I’m not saying I’m going to drop out of all of these sessions, since some have had value. What I am saying is that I’m going to put a value on my own time, and determine what’s worth that time and what isn’t. Frantically trying to connect to something happening on a screen is not worth it.
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