Last fall, a virtual reality arcade opened around the corner from us. Jenni took the boys a couple times and they loved it. I haven’t been, but the pictures of it are quite comical. Donned in their VR headsets, players within their dedicated space engaging with their own chosen virtual reality. With a dozen kids inside the same room, playing different games, they look a squadron of technological zombies, flailing and slashing at the air around them.
After this arcade opened, we were treated to a new kind of “virtual” reality, courtesy of COVID-19 and the stay-at-home orders. Since we can’t leave the house, the outside world has been largely recreated in some form on the screens of our laptops and iPhones. Suddenly, EVERYTHING is virtual: virtual meetings, virtual concerts, virtual happy hours, virtual museum visits, virtual dance lessons, virtual open houses, virtual church, and my personal favorite, virtual haircuts. Social media feedsare filled with images of songwriters performing ballads on guitarand personal trainers doing burpees. It’s just like being at the gym. (Except the refrigerator is awfully tempting just twenty feet away.)
When I see people trying to reproduce live experiences, I admire both their creativity and our collective coping mechanism. I think it’s fantastic that anyone is willing to put out some form of entertainment, education, or diversion from the scariness in the world at the moment. At the same time, I am now sick of the word “virtual” and hearing about the next thing we’re going to attempt to simulate over the Internet.
I read that a Minnesota scout troop tried to rebrand the acronym COVID by hosting a “Camp Out Via Internet Distancing.” Scouts preformed the usual camping tasks while still in their own houses. The thought of scouts laying in a tent in their individual living rooms using Zoom to tell ghost stories just doesn’t seem right. Or how about Airbnb offering virtual travel experiences? Well now, that certainly would be the ultimate staycation–no more wasted time/money/energy vacationing close to home, instead vacation in your home. I’m not even sure what virtual travel means, but I’m pretty sure the Travel Channel has been doing something similar for years. I don’t care that I can use my computer to see a 360 degree virtual version of the It’s a Small World; I want to actually take the kids to Disneyland.
I guess the silver lining is that we are more thankful for the all the things we used to do and take for granted on a daily basis. When I speak to my neighbor (at a minimum distance of six feet) we talk about the first thing we’re going to do when this is all over. Come to think of it, we’re like two soldiers overseas in a war movie talking about what we miss about our home towns. “When I getback home, I’m going take my best girl out on the town for drinks and dancing.” It does make me appreciate all the things–big and small–outside my front door: the ambient sound of a crowded restaurant, the salty aroma of the beach, the colorful sights of a summer day in San Diego. What I wouldn’t give to be stuck in summer traffic heading to somewhere fun. It’s only logical we’ll all be more mindfully appreciative when we’re allowed out of our houses. It’s like we’ve all been sent to our rooms to think about how ungrateful we have been for how good we had it. Now we have to settle for virtual experiences instead of the real ones.
But for now, life seems a little bit like the beginning of Avengers: Endgame. The streets are empty, there are no sports, and we’re all just waiting for life to return. When it does, we’ll do the things we used to: go to the office, enjoy a meal out, meet with friends in any quantity we desire. Perhaps we’ll venture out to the virtual reality arcade once the economy reopens. We’ll gladly pay $30/hour to stand in isolation with our faces covered. Socially distanced for sure, but this time by choice.
