Technologically Timid Torpedos

Top 10 Reasons I Refuse to Zoom With Prince Harry Naked

Stop asking me to join your nude silent meditation on writing!

Satire. Prince Harry wrote a book, I write, and I’ve been asked to join writing groups. Some use Zoom. Prince Harry hasn’t propositioned me personally — yet.

People used to wake up on the ground, don their best loin cloth, and bravely head outside their cave into the bright light of 1600 BC. They dodged mastodon stampedes, avoided dinosaur poop, and slayed their own snacks to seek a mate.

Now, we can meet in the Vaporverse to avoid all human contact.

We communicate in shorthand using emojis and gifs when words require too much effort.

• Anything beyond 256 characters is TL;DR.
• Speaking is too much of an ask — text me.
• It’s possible to coordinate cutesy semen and egg meetups at a lab after being delivered by Doordash.

Yet people still connect through video conferencing on electronic devices as though it’s a biological imperative. At a minimum, this means getting dressed from the waist up.

Presenting as socially acceptable and following the rules of engagement is entirely too difficult. Despite what my therapist and scientists say, skin-to-skin contact is not necessary. Hugs are over-rated and germs are deadly unless delivered by Mommy. Exceptions are made for brilliant philosophers/musicians bearing high-balance electronic debit cards and chocolate mousse.

Remember the movie Field of Dreams with Kevin Costner and James Earl Jones? Shoeless Joe Jackson, played by Ray Liotta told the farmer to raze his cornfield to build a baseball diamond.

“If you build it, they will come.” promising a happy crowd of paying sports fans to ease the struggling family’s financial difficulties.

A dear friend stood in line to get a personally signed and dedicated copy of the film for me. He hoped I’d eventually get around to becoming a writer instead of developing technology. I do both and don’t have enough time or energy to finish what I’d like to.

If you build a Zoom meeting and send an invitation, I likely won’t come. Sorry. Zoom meetings require a dedication to other people using the singularly focused senses of eyes, ears, mouth, and brain to be polite.

I’m just not that talented. At the ripe old age of 22 (cough, fingers crossed), I can’t realistically hope to master those skills before I keel over.

Some listening problems ex-spouses have cited -

• I can’t sit still and just be. My fidgeting inspired break-dancing.
• I listen to podcasts and music constantly, even while talking.
• Supposedly, I jump to the end of books, movies, and topics before anyone else gets there.

I find myself exhausting and promise you would too.

Some of my favorite excuses for not meeting up via the airwaves

1. Hazards getting there include moving the “good chair” past a dead body. I’d have to repaint a bloody wall and shoo my hungry pet python off the monitor.
2. Social grace and politeness dictate I not interrupt your silent meditation on writing. But, my renegade nature and ADHD may be an unwelcome intrusion. Sometimes I scream, bark, or do a really loud peacock impression just to break up monotonous conversations. Cops love it.
3. Limited time and attention! Must maintain focus! Can’t stop for introspective reflection, pondering the meaning of punctuation, or the beauty mark on Apollo Andrew’s bicep!
4. My video camera/cellphone/laptop doesn’t work and I can’t fix it just because. Huh? 1) the python is hungry, 2) there’s a new Bette Midler DVD coming out soon, 3) I’m crocheting a baby blue hat with cut-out Budweiser panels. And, I didn’t hear the question.
5. I’m a deaf-mute blind person with arthritic hands. Removing my clothing means dealing with zippers. My aide won’t be here until next Never. He claims I barked at him and the bite required stitches at the ER. He should have gone to the kennel.
6. Hate the technology / Zoom company: Video conferencing took off during the pandemic when people couldn’t leave home. Zoom stole personal information, allowed invasion of privacy (Zoombombs), and paid a relatively teeny tiny fine as a result of lawsuits brought by individuals and the government. And I live in darkness. Yes, I cut off my nose to spite my face.
7. Privacy concerns — can’t control distribution & taking things out of context. The last time I said, “In your dreams, asshole.” it ended up being played in an infinite loop each time the FBI or Senate Subcommittee members tried to question me. It wasn’t shared by me.
8. Self-consciousness/fear of rejection/abduction. When I Zoomed in May, someone did a magic trick. Poof! Suddenly half the attendees were gone. I awoke in Borneo, had to swim home, and the python ate my parakeet. Plus, I’m missing a nose.
9. I’m just not comfortable with meditation. If I came, I’d yell “What? I can’t hear you!” repeatedly. Then everyone shouts their answers about favorite fonts and endlessly debates when to use “this, that, or the other”. Eventually, each person would be wet as tears of frustration fell on bare skin.
10. I’m dying and parsing out the remainder of my days in 8-second increments. If you comment on the weather or ask “Whazzup?” my last resentment-filled breath may be taken while I’m hating on you. The resulting bitterness could last for eternity.

You’ve been forewarned.

Caveat: If there are walnut-spice cupcakes with a burnt caramel drizzle and Zinfandel, I may reconsider. JK — bring them over.

Thanks to Andrew Rodwin and BOFace for editing!

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