Will Zoom for smiles

Who knew screen time would bring such joy? Not me. Since we battened down the hatches here in Michigan to follow the state’s stay-at-home order, I’ve disabled my Screen Time counter on all of my devices, mostly because I don’t want to know how long I’ve been texting, emailing, surfing, scrolling and watching mindless drivel.

We’re talking years of my life I won’t ever get back. Oh well.

We have a rule in our house: An hour before turning in, we must turn off all of our devices. That’s right. Screen time’s over, kids. Or, as my new favorite YouTube star, Pluto the talking dog, says, “The two-leggeds are unplugging the internets.”

Considering we’ve been staying up till midnight and beyond binge-watching old “Ray Donovan” seasons on Showtime, shutting down at a decent hour isn’t saying much. How did we miss this show when it began in 2013?

Ray, and I do feel as if we’re on a first-name basis with Liev Schreiber’s haracter after finishing Season 3, is a hot mess. At least now I understand why. Priests and prostitutes and prisons. Good grief. And the drinking! My liver feels pickled just watching.

Bingeing a free month of Showtime isn’t the only new pastime we’ve adopted during the COVID-19 pandemic.

I bought a Zoom subscription.

Those are five words I have never written on purpose.

If you work from home, you’ve probably heard about Zoom, one of the leading video-conferencing software apps on the market. It allows you to virtually interact with co-workers when in-person meetings aren’t possible.

Founded in 2011 by Eric Yuan, a former Cisco Systems executive, Zoom Video Communications is based in San Jose, Calif. It has been thrust into the spotlight in the last couple of months, becoming the top free download in the Apple App Store.

While the stock market plunges, shares of Zoom soar, according to a recent New York Times article. The company is valued at $29 billion, more than airlines like Delta, American or United.

Don’t you wish you had bought stock in Zoom? I know I do, especially after opening yesterday’s snail mail that’s been de-germing in the garage for two days. The sanitized pile included my March financial statements. (That blood-curdling scream you heard was me.)

And it’s everywhere. Zoom church services, Zoom concerts, Zoom art shows, Zoom blind dates and even Zoom tarot card readings. Too bad there aren’t Zoom haircuts and pedicures.

Teachers at tens of thousands of schools across the United States dialed into Zoom for the first time in March and began delivering virtual lessons. The schools were taking advantage of Zoom’s decision to make its services free for kindergarten through high school in the United States, Italy and Japan.

You may be isolated, but with Zoom you’re never alone. It’s amazing on so many levels, to see and chat with those we’ve missed since stay-at-home orders took effect in most states, the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico.

Sadly, “No Zooming Zones” remain in a handful of states: Arkansas, Iowa, Nebraska, or North and South Dakota. Their governors have yet to impose stay-at-home orders. Why social distance when you can spew viral respiratory droplets in person?

Back to reality. The best thing about Zoom is that while you’re on camera with others, the possibilities for social awkwardness are endless, including:

• Zooming in the same sweats you’ve worn for a week.
• Forgetting you’re “live” on camera and bringing Zoom into the bathroom but not to floss.
• Logging in but failing to connect your audio, so no one can hear you, except when you say “Can you hear me now?” really, really LOUD.
• Trying to log out and leave the meeting as others still loitering in the room put on their best resting bitch faces until you fade to black.

That said, a Zoom cocktail party on Friday sounded like just the ticket to add some sheen to our quarantine. Plus, it was a good excuse to wash and blow-dry our hair and wear clothes without elastic.

The five of us (Rebecca, my sister Corky, my cousin Chris and her daughter, Natalie) were stacked on my computer screen like celebrities from the 1960’s TV game show “Hollywood Squares.”

It always cracked me up whenever two of the Squares’ stars Paul Lynde or Rose Marie answered with a hilarious zinger. We had plenty of one-liners and then some for nearly two hours, along with our choice of beverage and snacks.

It was a blast.

We decided one of the best things about Zoom is a wonderful button called Touch Up My Appearance that casts a soft focus over the video display, smoothing out your skin tone like an Instagram filter. “Now you tell me,” my sister said afterward.

What surprised me most during our Zoom party was my reaction. The sight of their faces and sound of their voices made me so happy. And not just because they all sang “Happy Birthday” to me.

It was the smiles and the laughs, taking our minds off this awful stuff for awhile.

As comedian Joy Behar of “The View” said about why she loves Zoom parties: No cooking, no cleaning, no schmoozing. And, Joy said, you can even make an Irish Exit, where you quietly duck out of a party without bidding farewell.

Even better, when you’re on Zoom, you can slink off to your bedroom and go to sleep. Not that I’d ever do that.

See you next Friday, my friends. Same time, same smiles.

This may become a regular thing. Social awkwardness be damned!