Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Youngest Gel came downstairs yesterday afternoon laughing heartily.

She’d just had her first on-line bio class.  Evidently, the profs were having some problems setting up something or other.  One of the other kidz in the class, apparently unaware that she had unmuted herself, started bitching about the delay in rayther strident, indeed vulgar, language to somebody else on her end of the line.

After a moment or two, one of the profs looked up and said, “Please, don’t let us hold you back!  Carry right on talking!”

The Gel thought this hy-larious.

Ol’ Robbo always goes into calls and on-line meetings with the assumption that the mute button is never really on.  I think this is a reasonably prudent practice.  I’ll bet that girl in Youngest’s class thinks so now, too.

UPDATE:  The query flies round the decanter: “What about video, Robbo?”  Yes, I assume the laptop camera is always on, too.  But I also have faith in the thick swatch of duct tape over the lens.  Besides, I’ve got used to the pantsless virtual workspace and am willing to run a few risks for it.