I’ve never loved talking on the phone.
Even back in my early days of newspaper reporting, I preferred to talk to people in person because I could get a better sense of whether they were being truthful or lying.
I derive a lot of information and feedback from looking at people: whether they’re engaged, distracted, bored or want to end a conversation. I’m a visual person, one who appreciates the importance of body language, eye contact and subtle nuances.
My disdain for the phone is legendary among my family and friends. I don’t call people often. It has nothing to do with how I feel about them. It has more to do with the way I communicate, and it’s not through my sense of hearing.
One of the biggest reliefs of my life was when my children were old enough to answer the phone and take messages for me. It was like having two tiny secretaries running interference, though I know some people found it incredibly annoying and off-putting.
I know spouses who talk to each other several times each day, but I don’t do that with the Curmudgeon. We rarely call each other unless it’s to warn about a speed trap down the road, or report that we’re low on kibble or doggie yogurt.
In fact, the Curmudgeon may detest the phone more than I do. He failed to call me once during a 4-day boys’ weekend to Martha’s Vineyard two years ago, pushing the outer limits of what’s acceptable and what constitutes spousal neglect.
But with social distancing and sheltering in place the new normal, I’m now turning to my I-Phone and laptop every day to connect with people. Instead of just talking, though, I want to FaceTime.
Up until recently, FaceTime was reserved for my son at college. But since we’ve been in quarantine, I’m FaceTiming my sisters, friends and neighbors. If I haven’t FaceTimed you yet, I guarantee I’m thinking about it.
I ask everybody if they have FaceTime, and am always a little disappointed if they don’t. My mom doesn’t have it, nor does one of my sisters. I can’t tell you how sad I am about that.
I tried to FaceTime my next-door neighbor Jim, and when he didn’t answer, I texted, “I’m trying to FaceTime you about a neighborhood matter.” When he still didn’t answer, he texted me back, “You’re trying to FaceTime Jimbo?”
Yes dude, I’m trying to FaceTime you because I can’t talk to you on the street the way we usually do. I want to bounce a neighborhood issue off you, and I want to see your face when we discuss it. Capisce?
We ultimately ended up exchanging text messages, but you get my point. I need to see people to connect with them. I don’t care what they look like or if they’re still in bed. I just want to see their face.
I FaceTime one of my sisters nearly every day, and we’re usually in the same place: she’s in her bed and I’m sprawled on my couch. There’s no pretense on either end, though I was a little embarrassed when she noted, “Isn’t that the same sweater you were wearing yesterday and the day before?” Um, yea.
My sister and I have gotten so comfortable FaceTiming that I’ll make or accept a call in any state. The other day, my hair was coated in olive and coconut oil and she never even mentioned it. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or offended.
Still, there are limits to everything and how far you’ve let yourself go. The other day, she said, “I think it’s time for you to do something about your roots. I see a lot of gray.” Sisters can say this to each other. Friends, not so much.
Seeing people on FaceTime and Zoom makes me feel less alone and more connected. And I look forward to these virtual meet-ups more than they probably deserve. My sister-in-law Ann organized a Zoom family cocktail party and I showered, put on make-up and wore a black blazer.
“A blazer?” my son asked.
“Well, yes, this is the most excitement I’ve had in weeks and I want to look pulled together,” I said. Sad, but true.
We thought we might see a milestone during our virtual gathering when my nephew Teddy threatened to lop off his ever-growing man-bun in front of all of us. It was an empty threat, though perhaps he will do it when we gather again same time next week.
If you haven’t held a Zoom party yet, I recommend it. It’s the next best thing to being there.