Dealing with ‘alien’ technology

I confess. I’m an alien.

Not like Peter in the Bible says: “We are resident aliens in this strange land, which is not yet our home” (1 Peter 1:6). But, yes, there is that.

Not like the alien from the movie franchise of the same name. My mouth doesn’t come out and bite people. Not yet, at least. I’m a few years away from false teeth.

Not like the alien from “Mars Attacks!” although a lot of times when I’m talking to my wife, she looks at me as if I’m saying “ack ack” instead of speaking English.

I am like the alien from the TV series Resident Alien in that I’ve spent most of my life hiding my true form from the public, but I’m not ugly or scary like him. I’m a cute alien.

I’m green but a pleasant green, more like a chameleon green. I have big, round eyes. They take up at least a third of my face—large black pupils with a gray iris around them and a smaller sclera, white on the outside. I have a small, rectangle mouth, rounded on the edges. I have rounded teeth – not those scary, spiky, rip-you-to-shreds kind. Two pinholes define my nose. I wear a white spacesuit with a white helmet and a large, clear visor to go over my melon-sized head. See? Cute.

Only once in my lifetime have I exposed my true form; it’s been bunches and bunches of years, so I’m really good at this. It came during a Zoom call. It happened on a Tuesday, four weeks ago. 

Unfortunately, it was before a group of my peers. You know how that is. I’m a bit of a jokester. No. Scratch that. I’m a “lot” of a jokester, but not in front of my peers. When interacting with them, I want to come across as professional as possible. An expert in the field. Skilled. Adept. Capable. Et cetera. (What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Ha. Ha.)

Here’s the story behind the great revealing.

The sound on my laptop went out. “No sound. How am I going to talk to my peers on the Zoom call?” I took it to the shop. The nice gentleman fixed it. All was well for two weeks. A Windows update took out my sound again. I uninstalled the Windows update. Sound back. Windows updated. Sound gone. Update uninstalled. Sound back. Windows updated… “You know what. I think it’s time for a new laptop.” 

Got a new laptop. Sound back. Video out. “Ack!” I mean, “Argh!” The new laptop wouldn’t recognize my camera! Said – gave me the message – I didn’t have one installed. “Are you blind? I’m looking at it! It works with everything else!”

I Googled 100 things to try. Not one of them worked. “Oh well. At least I have my sound. I can still talk to them. They just can’t see my face … Hmm. Well … I don’t know if that’s such a bad thing but I’m also not that happy my face, being “live” with them where they can see facial expressions and body language and all that, has been replaced by a big “D” in the middle of my screen.

The plot thickens.

During the aforementioned Tuesday’s Zoom call, I noticed some options for “avatars” on the right side of my screen.  

“What’s this? Hmm. This is interesting. Filters. Ha. Ha. I can be a cartoon cake with a face. I can be a cartoon lightbulb with a face. I can be a strawberry with a face. I can be bacon and eggs with a face. That would be funny.

“Characters? What’s that about? Oh. I could be a cute pig face. I could be an owl face… blowfish… rabbit… cat… dog… dinosaur… Hey. I could be an alien. Look at him. He’s so cute. Chameleon green. Big, round eyes… I wonder how this works…” 

Click.

Suddenly, my big D was replaced by the cute little alien. He had the look of someone on a long elevator ride. Looking straight ahead, but every now and then his eyes scanning the imaginary buttons or looking at the ceiling as he waited out the ride, a slow blink every few seconds revealing the scale behind his eyelid.

Panic!

“I’ve got to get this off of here! These are my peers! They’re talking serious business. They all have a sense of humor, but they don’t typically show it here. They’re mostly somber, more about the work at hand, or the future ahead. Not this! This is a nightmare! I don’t want to be deemed the class clown. Not now! Not today! Not ever! What do I do? What do I do! How do I get him off before anyone notices!”

Too late. There was this oh-so-obvious moment of silence in which everybody just stopped talking. I knew why. 

Laughs got things started. The comments followed. 

“Don. You’re looking a little green in the gills today.”

“Don. You’ve got a new look today.”

“Don. You’ve never looked better.”

Embarrassed. Flustered. If my alien’s face could turn red. If I could find where I parked that invisible spaceship…

Oh well. What are you going to do? Zoom calls with my peers have come and gone. I’ve learned to own it. It’s plain and simple. I’m an alien.