cheap signs = quality revolution

At this point I should probably rename this "No Baby Yet" because it seems like that's about all I say these days. I'm most glad everyone cares and certainly don't mind the questions, but all should rest assured that they will know when Baby Zeigler arrives. Actually, everyone is probably even more ready for the arrival than Millicent just so I'll shut up about it. Which reminds me.

Continuing our unbelievably accelerated rate of technological improvements around here, Andy and I finally got around to hooking up our webcams. We gave our Dad one for his birthday back in February. Since time was not even taken to wrap it, the camera left Andy's hand went to my Dad's who then handed it to me. I, in turn, placed it on top of the telly which is where it remained, staring at me like some Orwellian overlord.

Because I have an awful lot of free time and figured my imaginary overlord was easily bored, I'd occasionally reenact favorite scenes from T.J. Hooker and The Fall Guy to entertain. Sometimes I'd ruminate on various aspects of life. In short, that still-packaged camera became my best friend and we made all sorts of plans for things we knew we'd never do. About how we'd start up a pay service and people even more sad than me could watch me watch tv, read a book or occasionally eat. It would be magical and we'd get so, so rich but I've probably said to much about that and would prefer it never be mentioned again.

So last night, I blew a somewhat thick layer of dust of the packaging and went to work. Because only everybody uses a webcam these days I was expecting a somewhat tedious installation. Tedious it was if by tedious I mean a quick depackaging and installation I mean plugging the cable into the USB port. And just like that, I was on the computer. Leaping lizards. So for the next 10 minutes I sat there staring at myself on the screen like some stoned moron. Ooh, look there's my hand. And it can move. Far out. This would all be sad enough if that was the biggest time wasted last evening. Alas, it was not.

We signed up to use the totally free, totally fab service Skype for our video calls. Like most things interweby these days, a screen name is required. Because Andy and I aren't content to just be "Cool Dude 1" and "Super Guy 2" or something equally simple we have to come up with a name. Not just any name, but one that is a knowing reference that incredibly awesome to us but probably incredibly stupid to most folks with a brain. So for the next 45 minutes (yes, really) we ran up his long-distance bill trying all manner of names. The duration wasn't my fault however. I suggested "Castrated and Domesticated" for him pretty early on but he nixed this for some reason. In the end, he went with the oh so sweet, "We Love Baby" and I decided on "Neville Chamberlain".

So after getting all that tedium out of the way it was finally time to test out with an actual video call. Fingers were crossed as he suddenly appeared on my screen and I, his. At last, we can now experience the electrifying presence of the other via the computer. And make no mistake we are electrifying as we sit and stare at each in silence. I'd like to say the silence stemmed from out awe; sadly, we're really just that boring that my pulse quickened when Andy glanced to look at his television. Andy's did the same when I got up for some pudding. It was very touching and poignant. Pretty much exactly like EPCOT had promised us all those years ago. Minus the cartoon characters wearing jetpacks, of course.