Camera ready

Now that we're seven months into the new Zoomconomy™, there are more things to think about than ever before.

Wear your mask. Wash your hands. Wipe down the deliveries. Remember to social distance (I work in ad agencies - I've been doing that for years). But now, there's one more thing to pile on the to-do list in the new world order.

Dressing my room for Zoom.

Like most people I know, I'll be working remotely from home for the foreseeable future. So I planted a flag and claimed a small yet comfortable space to set up shop in my bedroom. The wife bought me a nice wooden table desk that fits just swell under the bedroom window, and looks out onto the lawn and flowers in our front yard.

As far as views go, I file it under things could be worse.

Sitting on the desk is my company monitor and laptop, as well as my personal laptop. With all those screens it looks like Mission Control, except I have trouble launching Photoshop much less rockets. There's also a desk lamp, along with several Hydro Flasks (hydrate people, can't stress it enough).

The problem is when I'm on a Zoom call, you can see most of my bedroom, including the not-as-firm-as-it-used-to-be-oh-my-aching-back California King bed behind me. So now, in addition to everything else to worry about, I have to get up early to make the bed and dress the room for showtime—the many Zoom calls I'll be on during the day.

I suppose I could take the easy way out and use a virtual background. The one with the wind blowing the palm trees is nice. So is the Golden Gate bridge. I've even added the hallway from The Shining and the lunar surface as options. But it's always a little distracting when several people on the call are using the same background. And if we're all in the same place, why do we have to have a Zoom call in the first place, amIrite?

Also, Zoom hasn't quite mastered the fine art of green screen. Using virtual backgrounds makes various parts of my face, fabulous head of hair and ripped (fat) body disappear while I move around during the calls. Mostly to drink from one of the Hydro Flasks.

So here's the new early morning routine: make the bed. Arrange the mountain of pillows the wife stores on the bed. Put the Thunder Road street sign my daughter gave me on top of the lamp next to my headboard, because, you know, Bruce. And make sure all the books on my night stand are facing spine out towards the camera, so everyone can see all my anti-Trump reading material.

If I was working in the office I wouldn't be able to make any political statements. But this is my house, so Fuck Trump.

The worst part of this work from home deal is getting up early. I've been called a lot of things, but morning person isn't one of them. Currently my iPhone alarm has Uptown Funk set to eleven to jolt me up in time for the daily show. But given the situation, I'm thinking of changing it to something more subtle, yet appropriate.

Like a stage manager screaming "Five minutes! Places people!"