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This past week, I sat in a small, windowless room with the express purpose of talking to a blank screen. I had been asked to participate in a Skype conference, and - for the first time - unaccompanied by an adult (otherwise known as a technician). Yes… Arne did set up the machine, align the entire program and show me how to work it with detailed instructions. But, it was my responsibility alone to push the “call” button and contact the meeting coordinator. So, after Arne left me to my own devices, I sat there with a bead of sweat on my upper lip as my finger twitched to push that button. My mouse hovered for a while, and then… I hooked up. It was almost instantaneously answered and the coordinator’s familiar face floated on the screen. Courting hubris, I congratulated myself on this operation. We actually chatted for a few minutes when she received another call. All of a sudden things started to become choppy and disoriented on the miniature world in front of me. Then the coordinator said the last words before the image went inky black: “hmmm… maybe if I press this…”