virtual - adjective - not physically existing as such but made by software to appear to do so (Google).
Over the years, the meaning of virtual has changed quite a bit. Interestingly enough, the word derives from the medieval Latin virtualis, or "possessing certain virtues," virtues being positive traits (just in case you might have forgotten). Up until the onset of C.E. (a.k.a. the computer era), most of us were in agreement that virtual meant "almost as described, but not completely as defined." You know, like "virtual reality" or not quite real. The definition still comes up as the primary denotation on Google. However, when most people use it today in daily confabulation, they are most likely referring to the term associated with anything computer generated. Of course, this makes sense since COVID-19 and its derivatives necessitated our reliance on Jetsons-esque applications, such as Zoom, Skype, and Google Meet–all of which are still around even though more people are starting to let down their masks along with their hair.
Out of necessity, some of us are still encased in this virtual, virtual reality that stimulates only two of the five senses. It's okay, I guess, better than "long distance" alone. Which reminds me of Charley Harper's quote, "Long distance is the next best thing to being there, but a dove in love would rather reach out and touch someone." Yup. I'm there. When it comes down to relating on intimate terms, I am REALLY missing the REAL. On Friday night, my date with my L.A. man (the one who is 2,400 miles away by the crow) consisted of a two-hour Skype while I was immersed in the whirlpool tub, and he was still behind a desk in his office. Hmm, guess I got the short end of the stick in terms of the visual. Oh, and yes, speaking of sticks, since I don't have one of those selfie sticks that doubles as a tripod, I held my iPhone up and out of reach of the foaming water for most of the call. The conversation would have gone on longer if it hadn't been for the fact that the skin everywhere on my body (except for my left hand and a portion of that arm) pruned up at approximately the same time that the water grew cold.
The next day, L.A. Man invited me to attend his African drum class, again via Skype. The idea was creative in theory but didn't quite pan out since the screen was only large enough to include portions of dunduns, flailing arms, hands, sticks (yet all of the instructor). Also the sound was distorted albeit loud enough for me to discern that there were multiple student drummers in the class. Adorable L.A. Man, complete with a clown-like grin on his face, kept intermittently tipping over sideways and into the phone's camera just to see if I was still watching. I was, but it wasn't easy.
I know what you are thinking: Why doesn't she just hop one of the five non-stop flights out of the closest NYC area airport to make her virtual romance actual? I'm hoping to do that really soon. Virtual computer reality may beat long distance, but it can never quite top the real McCoy.
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