Sunday, April 5, 2020

Dad, Our Family's Computer Guy

"Do you compute?
What does it take to make you understand?"

–Donnie Iris, Do You Compute?


Two minutes before the Zoom meeting, Bryce couldn't find the invitation. Mom thought she'd sent it to her, but couldn't be sure.

"I'll send it again," she said.

But then she couldn't log into her Zoom account on Beatrice's laptop.

"Ugh, I need the password to login," she said.

She tried, but couldn't do it. "I'm just going to log into the meeting on my computer for you."

That's when I sighed. "C'mon, you all had to wait until the last minute for this?"

"Dad, why do you have to make me feel bad about it," Bea said. "It's not my fault. I didn't know this was going to happen."

"Sorry," I said. "But you could've gotten this figured out before now, and now you're late to the birthday party Zoom video call."

"It's not my fault!"

"I still need the meeting link!" Bryce called from upstairs.

"I'm still trying to send it to you," Mom said.

"Can you just tell me the meeting number and I can have her log in?" I asked.

"What meeting number?" Mom said.

"The meeting number. Every Zoom meeting has a meeting number and you can just log in to it on the Zoom site."

"I don't know what the meeting number is."

"Wow," I said, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"Dad, it's not her fault!" Beatrice said.

"I'll AirDrop it to you and then you can give it to her," Mom said.

"Why would you do that? I just need the number."

Then came the AirDrop pinging noise. I checked my phone. The meeting link was there, but I couldn't see the number. And when I tried to log in to the meeting, I had to log in myself and didn't have my username and password handy and didn't have the password memorized.

"Oh my God," I said. "Just give me the friggin' number for the meeting."

"What number?" Mom asked.

"Wow. I'll just copy it off of Beatrice's computer and put it in my notes so I can tell Bryce," I said.

"She's using my computer," Mom said.

"I know."

So that's what I did. But when Bryce tried to log in to the meeting, the login asked for a password.

"Oh my God! Amy, what's the password?!?"

"I don't know," Mom said. "I didn't realize I set one up."

So I went back to Bea's computer, I mean, Mom's computer, and found the password. This time I said hi to the girls' friends on the Zoom video call. No one acknowledged me.

"Here, Bryce, here's the password.

I read it to her aloud and then she was in. After 30 minutes, Bryce came back downstairs a little upset.

"What's wrong?" we asked Bryce. I could still hear Beatrice on the call in our bedroom.

"Well, I know you told me not to put the desktop goose on my computer, but I did, because everyone else did, and now I can't get it off," Bryce said.

This desktop goose thing is a new program where a goose will still the mouse, track mud on the screen, and just be silly annoying. It may be fun to some of their friends, but to me, it smelled of virus, so I didn't want it on any of our laptops. Ever.

After spending a few minutes deleting it and restarting Bryce's computer, we reminded Beatrice that Mom has the free Zoom version and her call would only last 40 minutes.

"Why?" she called from upstairs.

"Because that's what you get for free," I said.

"But why can't it be longer?"

And this was a Saturday. While it's not like this every day, and our whole family are all pretty computer literate, it truly is the new virtual world of work and home and all things integrated due to coronavirus (COVID-19). All the friggin' things. My wife and I have virtual work meetings every day, and our girls have virtual school every day and meetings with friends, sometimes the same fun we all have with online meetings and taking the first 10 minutes just to get everyone on correctly so then can see each other and hear each other. Just like the good old days of work.

If you've ever seen the Saturday Night Live skit called Nick Burns, Your Company's Computer Guy from the early 2000's, featuring Jimmy Fallon as Nick Burns, then you know what I'm talking about. The character was a sarcastic company IT guy who thought everyone else in the company were incompetent, technically challenged buffoons.

Of course, I don't treat my family that way.

"Why is the Zoom meeting only 40 minutes, Dad?"

Because Mom has the free Zoom, is that enough reason for you, Nancy Drew?

Be safe and well.




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