Zoom, BlueJeans, Houseparty…to name but a few…are all wonderful video conferencing facilities. They make lockdown work life just about practical. On average I have half a dozen meetings a week using such facilities including Friday drinks with my distanced team. Conference calls on top keep us all busy.
Such facilities connect friends and family across the globe whilst this terrible pandemic runs its course, bringing much needed relief from isolation. Individuals appear on your screen from just down the road to far flung places such as San Francisco and New York. It is a joy. And yet…and yet…
Last weekend five zoom calls appeared in my diary mostly arranged by my better half, speaking to over 20 people. That was on top of several other social ones during the week. I was told not to be late for any of them whether that was due to work commitments or coming back from my limited (but essential for my sanity) exercise regime. I sensed my narrow window of freedom narrowing further.
Contact lists are compiled and for fear of missing anybody out, video chats are arranged with all and sundry. I have ended up speaking regularly to people I usually do not see for several months on end. Obviously, I am fond of them all, but it always involves talking intently into the screen to those whose company is normally combined with the atmosphere and people watching of a bar, restaurant, or dinner party.
Two back-to-back video conferencing calls can last for well over an hour. It can be exhausting. Thank goodness Zoom limits free group video conferencing to 40 minutes. But for some contacts, we recently agreed to just dial out and dial back in again. And, recently, old school friends also decided a ‘pub quiz’ should form the basis of the next conversation. I hate pub quizzes but find I cannot escape…
Such a medium of communication is stressful. Even with friends and family, you are staring closely at the screen to check jokes and opinions make the desired impact. With work (actually, socially too) you are checking your dress sense looks fine on screen, that the bookshelves behind you are sufficiently stuffed with mind improving tomes and that your glasses are on straight. I realised I went through an entire consultant call last week with wonky specs, so fixed was I on the conversation and everybody talking over each other.
I have become an ‘expert’ in interpreting body language from afar without any idea whether I am right or not. And what really grates is that any bad news is still never delivered face to face but via email.
Oh, the joy of all these multiple channels of video conferencing which allow you from home to visually and conversationally embrace colleagues, clients, family and friends at the click of a mouse. All undiluted. The end of lockdown cannot come soon enough!
Inside Right Politics 
I’m with you on all of that. I don’t use any of the above but have a “to call” list as long as your arm. I’ve done them all now – either phone or email – and now don’t feel at all guilty waiting for any of them to call me. Incidentally, Rosselli was on the list as it was his birthday on Monday. I haven’t heard from him since February and hope he is OK. By the end of this situation we’ll all have permanent earache and need new glasses. Not to drink out of. Hope all is well with you and Mike. Fay.
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