Went Surfing; Got Lost at Sea
Would you believe it if I told you that I spent a few hours this Wednesday night gathered around a bonfire on a small island in the middle of the ocean with a few friends?
I arrived at the party in a yellow sarong, my yellow hair in cascading in a braid over my shoulders. I wore a giant red bow at the back of my head. I stepped onto shore and wondered if I was the first to arrive. No, in the distance, there appeared to be a set of chairs set up around a small fire. If I could just make my way across the island, I’d be able to join my friends and collaborators, Will and Michael. I could barely hear myself think over the roar of the waves all around. But I made my way to the seating area. The three of us watched as more of our friends arrived. But even though we could see that they were approaching, we couldn’t hear them or make out their.
Will began frantically setting up armchairs around the fire, adding seating for the newly arrived. I offered to help him out — as co-host of this gathering, it only seemed fair — but is was as if her was pulling these chairs from nowhere.
I helped the only way I could see how. I sent up a signal to all who’d just joined us, most of whom had not yet found their way across the island to the bonfire:
CLICK ON THE GRAPES. GO TO SETTINGS. THEN SCROLL DOWN TO SFX TO TURN DOWN THE WAVE NOISE.
Thank you! They replied. That was driving me crazy!
We were holding our little “party” in a virtual space via an app called Gather. We’d been told by the film festival that it would be a little more fun than just a regular old Zoom — and, undeniably, it was. But for weeks beforehand, when people asked what to expect of the Gather gathering, I just kind of widened my eyes and shrugged. “It’s on this new thing I’ve never tried. I’d never even heard of it. None of us knows what it is, so we don’t know what it will be like.”
What it was like, in addition to the above story — all completely true, just…digital — was a video game. One set on an island, but where no-one had set up any worlds to visit except this one “firepit” that represented the video chat. You created a little character, made your way over to the X on the Island Map where other little avatars marked the spot that people “were.” Only once you navigated your character there were you able to participate in the video chat. And also, your microphone and camera were off by default. We may have been a party of Millennials, but we were (initially) lost at sea.
Please don’t read this as a bad review of Gather, which seems like a pretty cool service (minus those super loud wave sound effects). Had my co-host and I taken the time to become well-versed in the new platform (and had we expected more guests), we might’ve created a fun virtual party where people could leave messages, participate in multiple conversations, listen to music, all self-guided around a little virtual island world we’d built. Instead, we all just showed up to a Zoom meeting with an obstacle course added in. Oh, and at one point I added a virtual whiteboard to a part of the ocean it was impossible to walk to.
It’s such a sign of the times that the main argument against hosting a Zoom party is that everyone is sick of Zooming. Just one of the many things that, could we go back in time, our 2019 selves would be at a loss to comprehend. I’m one of the few people I’ve spoken to who’d actually used Zoom prior to the US lockdown phase of the Pandemic (I am not sure why…probably something about podcasts). And now, look at us: even if you still don’t know how to log into your Zoom account, or to schedule a meeting, you have almost certainly been on a Zoom once or twice or dozens of times. I use it several times a day, switching between 4 or 5 different potential accounts. Hell, in 2020, I had to create and send a fresh Zoom link to a workgroup of 9 people EVERY WEEKDAY for SIX MONTHS.
If the pandemic era has felt like a bit of a wash in terms of personal growth, may I recommend that you do what I was recently inspired to do and create a list of previously untried technologies that you’ve adopted (or even just attempted) during this time of challenged connection? I have no way of knowing if my list is any longer or shorter than average, but it includes Discord, Descript, Twitch, Netflix Party, Prime Video Watch Party, Slack1…some other video conferencing app I used in March of 2020 that I can no longer find any record of…oh my God, FACEBOOK FUCKING LIVE2!!! I have had therapy on Google Meet, attended dance recitals via FaceTime, hosted cousin cocktail hours in my Personal Meeting Room, and scanned more QR codes in a month than I used to in a year. Oh, and who could forget: TikTok.
There’s no way this list is exhaustive. And yet, while it has often occurred to me that we’ve added a lot of new social tools to our cultural toolbox during this time of disconnection, it never occurred to me to tally up all the new platforms I’ve tried to tackle. As a former tech instructor, I’m good at this kind of stuff, and still it’s been exhausting in a way that I’ve never acknowledged even to myself. And as a former tech instructor I have a pretty good idea how common it is for people to struggle with technology. Oh, it might seem like everyone is getting along just fine, but take it from me: prostrate at the feet of someone they hope has the answers, a great many people will claim to be “the worst when it comes to tech stuff.” I’ve heard it so many times, thinking each time, they can’t all be the worst.
I guess what I’m saying is: no wonder we’re tired. On top of everything else our poor brains have been trying to process… the virtual film festival is encouraging filmmakers to host their parties on Gather. Or, [insert your last technological straw here.]
A final irony of the island party is that almost everyone there was in Los Angeles that night. We could have just gotten together in person. In fact, this sentiment came up several times during the course of the evening: “When are we going to do this in person?”
“When are we going to do this for real?”
From here on out, I will try and remind myself to ask this question first. Is this something I can or should do “for real”? The answer won’t always be yes. There are lots of excellent reasons to hold a virtual whatever. But when it comes to parties, I think I’m ready for the IRL island firepit. If the waves are too loud…there’s always earplugs.
I had technically used this before the pandemic but I know now that I’d barely scratched the surface. I’m now technically a part of 5 different Slacks.
Facebook Live is so bad you guys. I have had to use it almost every week and have unsuccessfully hand-held several people through trying to use it. They change it constantly and never in a way that makes anything easier.