Laughing Matters: The One About Zoom

By Ryan G. Van Cleave |  Illustrations by Darcy Kelly-Laviolette

The rumors are true: I’m Zoomed out. Totally so.

The only reason I hop onto Zoom meetings these days with friends, family, colleagues, and neighbors is this—I’m still somewhat tickled by the human drama that seems to be exacerbated by the new virtual venue. A few of my fave examples are:

• The guy whose vociferous Trump-related rant is lost thanks to the apparently insurmountable challenge of the mute button he’s still unable to master. Pro or against? Who’s to say, silent as he is?

• The woman who leaves her camera on in a webinar while doing 15 minutes of calisthenics on a mini-trampoline.

• The person who eats two bowls of cornflakes while “paying attention.”

• The dude with the suspiciously perfect room behind him, where the museum-quality nature feels overly theatrical.

After suffering through a few months of Zoom-related activities like these, I’ve come to realize that our current language isn’t yet fully able to articulate all I’m witnessing. To that end, I’ve decided to help us out by coining a few new terms so we can better appreciate what’s going on in the Age of Zoom:

Zoomdread (verb) To anticipate with great apprehension or fear the dismal wasting of a large chunk of time in a Zoom meeting.

Zoom Screamer (adjective) A person in a Zoom meeting who fully understands and appreciates that he (or she!) who is the loudest gets to speak, so they attack moments of silence with verbal shock-and-awe to ensure they get their point across…at 100+ decibels.

Zoom Face (noun) (1) The awkward expression people have in those few moments between saying goodbye and figuring out how to exit the virtual meeting. (2) The asleep-while-awake expression people have in Zoom meetings when they’ve got a second window up and are playing Call of Duty, checking email, or shopping for sassy flats at Zappos.

Zoomscaper (noun) A person who always has a new silly background in every Zoom chat that they’re waiting for everyone to notice and remark on.

Zoom Ego (noun) One’s virtual self-worth in a Zoom environment, which can take a real beating when things don’t go as planned (see Zoomscaper and Zoom Face, above).

The Off-Target Zoomer (noun) Someone who can’t figure out the art of getting their entire face in the frame, so they attend meeting after meeting via forehead or torso.

Now, I’m being completely serious here. Our forced entry into the world of Zoom has a few benefits—I admit it. For one thing, do we now have enough evidence that every work-related meeting should be capped at 27 minutes? And do we now appreciate the vital distinction between “awkward silence” and “awkward Zoom-room silence”?

But just in case I’m being overly biased, I’ve reached out to an impartial outsider. Via Zoom, of course. My buddy, “Bob,” has been attending “work sessions” via Zoom for three months without fail, so he’s pretty much the next best thing to a Zoom expert. 

After much debate and discussion (read this as “freeze-dried ice cream—for or against?, and how obvious is it that Carole Baskin whacked her first husband?”), we determined the following to be The Five Noble Zoom Truths of 2020.

Noble Truth #1: The Zoom equivalent to reply-all is not muting your mic. 

Noble Truth #2: It’s hilarious the first time only that a kid in a Zoom class says, “Man, this show is boring.” (bonus points for picking up a TV remote and trying to change the channel.)

Noble Truth #3: We should all just agree to look like crap on Zoom calls—please don’t be that one person who gets all spruced up and makes the rest of us look like total degenerates.

Noble Truth #4: It’s disconcerting when you stop to think that someone in your Zoom session can be creepy-staring at you the whole time…and you’d never know.

Noble Truth #5: As Seth Rogen says, the best Zoom meeting look is “lace up from the waist up.”

With that, I’ve gotta run. I’ve got a Zoom meeting in an hour, and I need to change into my business pajamas. 

For those of you who read these little final send-off notes, kudos, wow, and yahoo to you. But instead of peppering off a few parting shots as I normally do, I’m instead offering an opportunity to have your own fifteen seconds of fame and glory, Sarasota Scene style. “What do I have to do?” you’re asking. “Does it require making a financial investment? Manual labor? Divulging my ATM password?” 

It’s easy. Just keep track of your own Zoom meeting disasters, foibles, and bungles over the next few weeks. When you’ve got one that’s LOL-good, send it right here via Ryan@SarasotaScene.com. If we get anything laughtastically tremendous, we might do a future roundup piece that shares your misfortunes in amusing fashion. Possibly anonymous. Probably not, though.