What to do to keep sane, week 2.

So like most of you, things have been a little bit cramped in the Kober household these last few days. Compounding the issue last week was that it was the scheduled Spring Break for my 9-year-old, so there was no pretending that any learning was going to happen. We made the best of the nice days by driving out into the hills of Pennsylvania to do some pretty serious hiking (it’s easy to social distance when you literally see 2 other people each hour).

On those not-so-nice days, while my son learned how to set up video chats with his friends while playing some game called Roblox, I decided to do some market research while keeping abreast of what’s happening with Covid-19.

I managed to check out three live broadcasts, each with a different focus, each using a different delivery mechanism. Here is what happened:

Broadcast 1: Platform unknown, but looked and interfaced like GoToWebinar. One presenter on video, one moderator without video, and slides. Video quality was decent, audio was clear. All was well until suddenly, about 45 minutes in, the presenter lost his connection. 30 seconds went by. Then 60. Still, nothing. The moderator had no choice but to end the webinar kind of abruptly. Takeaway for you: If you can, try to avoid single presenter sessions online. If you “lose” your speaker, you are lost.

Broadcast 2: Zoom broadcast through a proprietary link. This was more along the lines of a professional development activity, given by a colleague I’ve been friendly with for many years. What I did not realize is that all of the attendees would be on screen and would be expected to offer their input into the topics. The live broadcast started at 8 p.m. ET so I wasn’t as perfectly groomed as I usually am during the day (a shirt without stains is about what I consider “perfectly groomed”). Video and audio was OK. There were only three of us there so super casual conversation. The moderator suddenly lost her audio for about 90 seconds halfway through, but figured out how to get it back. I’d send you the link to this exciting broadcast, but well, I don’t want to. Takeaway for you: Let your audience know in advance if there is any chance they are going to end up on screen. It’s not a pleasant surprise.

Broadcast 3: Zoom broadcast through Facebook Live. This one had 4 speakers, all on video. No slides. One of the speakers had a ton of trouble with her connection. Her audio cut out frequently and she lost her feed for several chunks of time. The other speakers kept trying to bring her into the conversation, but it got a bit frustrating once everyone realized that her connection just wasn’t reliable. Takeaway for you: If you can, test your presenters’ AV setup in advance to try to minimize any issues midstream when you are live.

So basically, there were technical issues with all three of the broadcasts that I watched, which honestly was not totally unexpected. In the online setting, there is undoubtedly a loss of control. Things happen, and there often isn’t an easy solution.

Derek and I have learned over the years how to troubleshoot a lot of the issues that crop up during our live broadcasts, and yet there are always at least 1 or 2 sessions each time around where we can’t get a panelist’s video to work, or there is an echo we can’t isolate, or someone simply keeps dropping off the broadcast. Firewall issues? Poor Internet connection? Hardware compatibility? Someone doesn’t want to own up to having a bad hair day? You can’t always know.

After each CMEpalooza, we ask viewers to fill out a short survey to give us feedback into how we’re doing. Inevitably, we’ll get a handful of people who will say, “It was hard to pay attention to XYZ session because there was this buzzing noise” or “Can’t you do something to make people’s audio louder?” We are usually well aware of these issues – they are annoying to us too – but sometimes they are out of our control or beyond our level of production expertise. I suspect there may be even more grumbling for anyone who is charging for access to their broadcasts when the quality isn’t perfect, so if that’s you, you’d better be prepared with a stock answer to those who are going to whine.

(note from Derek: trust me, we are aware when there are audio/video issues. A little piece of me dies inside every time someone’s audio glitches. My laptop crashed during a session last year and I was mad about it for days.)

During our recent AV tests with various Spring panelists (which I must say have been completely bereft of any major problems), I’ve been asked a couple of times if I thought the added burden to overall Web bandwidth was going to affect the technical quality of our broadcasts. The answer is very simple.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I mean it. I don’t have a clue. Obviously, we hope it won’t, but if it does, there really isn’t anything we can do about it. Bill Gates stopped taking my calls many years ago.

Just like always, we’ll do the best we can to troubleshoot, and we’ve got enough experience that we’re always able to salvage something meaningful from our sessions even if there is a partial panelist meltdown. We’ll keep on striving, just like everyone else, for that perfect game. It’ll come eventually.

Oh, and one more thing: Don’t forget that you only have a few more days for your CMEopoly submission. Entries are due this Wednesday at 5 p.m. ET. You can get everything you need by clicking on this link.

Week 2 (or more) of the virtual workplace is kicking in for most of us. Hopefully everyone is settling in to some sort of regular work routine. But between video calls with the team and tedious administrative work, you are probably looking for some kind of fun distraction that doesn’t involve “Netflix recommends for you…”

Well then, my friend, you have come to the right place. Not only do we have a fun distraction for you this week, but we have a brand-new event that will even allow you to make some money for very little work and learn a bit about the CME community. Amazing, right?

Since we began rolling out our Sponsor prize events each year, the roster has typically been the same — CMEpalooza Trivial Pursuit in the Spring and CMEpalooza Bingo!! in the Fall. Why? Laziness. That’s about it.

But with the current health pandemic, I had a little bit of extra time last week to come up with a brand new idea. And so, we present to you today CMEopoly. I know, it’s not a great name. But would CMEpalopoly or CMEpaloozopoly have been better? Did Derek offer any alternate suggestions? The answer to both of those questions is shockingly one and the same…(note from Derek: This is so easy. It should be “CMonopolE”. Do I get the $500 now?)

As always, we’re giving away $500 in Amazon gift cards as prizes. Five winners will get $100 each. In the current marketplace, that could buy you a roll of toilet paper, one small bottle of Purell, and a Whatchamacalit bar (I love those).

Here is what you need to know to play CMEopoly:

1. Click on this link to download the necessary forms. That will give you a game board, the full list of “clues” (thanks to intern Katie for her help with these), and an answer sheet.
2. Call up our Sponsor page, where you can get information about all of the CMEpalooza Spring sponsors as well as links to their website (this is vitally important since you’ll need them to get all of the answers)
3. You earn one entry into our prize drawing for every color bundle you complete. There are seven bundles in all. We came up one short of filling the board, so Derek asked me to insert something silly in there. You can complete the answer sheet for one color bundle, two bundles, or all seven.
4. While you can earn seven entries, you won’t be able to win seven times. Limit one prize per person.
5. When you complete your answer form, email it to me at scott@medcasewriter.com. Make sure to include your name and professional affiliation so that when we announce that you’ve won, everyone can be sufficiently jealous.

Unlike the McDonald’s Monopoly game scandal from the early 2000s (I highly suggest HBO’s recent McMillions docuseries if you want a 5-hour binge show), CMEopoly is not rigged. Every entrant has the same chance of winning. These chances are generally pretty good, but vary depending on the number of entrants.

Entries are due on Wednesday, April 1 at 5 p.m. ET. Now get cracking.

After reading Scott and Katie’s eloquent posts from the past few days, I was left to wonder what I can do to make myself useful. Then, while scrolling through Facebook last night and reading the reactions from all my friends and family new to working from home (heretofore referred to as “WFH”), it occurred to me that maybe I could put my 8+ years of WFH experience to use by sharing some tricks and tips I have picked up along the way.

I started to write that up, but, honestly…it was pretty boring and not that true to reality. Instead, I thought I would share with you a typical (work) day in the life of an experienced WFHer. It’s actually not that typical since everyone else in my family is also home right now thanks to social distancing but just play along.

8:30 a.m.
(NOTE: Spare me the “You start your day at 8:30??” mockery. I spent years getting to an office at the crack of dawn…and then I got laid off. I start my day at a reasonable hour now.)

Ascend the stairs to my office on the 3^rd floor, 2^nd cup of coffee in one hand, 24 oz lime green Hydro Flask in the other.

Announce out loud, “I’m starting work now!”

Ignore office chair and desk and sit in easy chair instead (You don’t have an easy chair in your office? Get one. For…research purposes. Sure.)

Dog follows me upstairs, stops for a few head scratches, then continues into bedroom for her morning nap on the bed. She is technically not allowed on the bed, but we seem to have forgotten to tell her that.

Flip on SportsCenter (You don’t have a TV in your office?? Get one. Again, more research purposes.). I use it, um, for background noise while going through email. So. Much. Email.

Tom Brady is going to the Bucs??? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

[DELETE] [DELETE] [DELETE] Reply [DELETE] [DELETE] Reply [DELETE]

9:15 a.m.
Turn off the TV and head back downstairs to resolve any personal hygiene issues. This maybe includes a shower. Probably not.

Attempt to ignore anyone in the house who tries to distract me along the way.

9:25 a.m.
Walk back upstairs, stopping off in son’s room on the 2^nd floor. He is, of course, still in bed.

Me: “Did you see Tom Brady is going to the Bucs?”

Him: “Yeah.” (This is pretty wordy for him.)

Both: “BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

(note from Scott: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!)

9:30 a.m.
Turn off the TV, gaze longingly at easy chair, but instead sit in my office chair at the desk. Continue answering email or begin working on high priority projects for the day.

Turn on music.

There is some strategy involved in my musical selection. If I am doing something where I need maximum focus and concentration – like reading grant proposals – then I will listen to something relaxing and without words (Miles Davis, John Coltrane) or with words I can’t understand (Sigur Ros, they sing in Icelandic.) If it’s something that takes less brain power – like entering scores into a spreadsheet – then I listen to something peppier (I won’t give any examples because everyone will just laugh at my inclination towards Dad Rock.) And if I’m doing something really mind numbing – like reading another one of Scott’s emails – then I really crank up the volume and listen to something like Rage Against the Machine or the Melvins.

10 a.m.
The cat saunters in.

He scratches at the easy chair, knocks over some papers, tries to eat a plant, and then insists on laying on the keyboard while I’m working.

He is basically just a big a-hole (sorry, I know this is a family website.)

Eventually he climbs down onto my lap, curls up, purrs, and falls asleep. All is forgiven.

10:30 a.m.
Snack time. God, I love snack time.

10:40 a.m.
On the way back from the kitchen, stop in each kid’s room to check on them.

They are both on a device of some sort, supposedly doing homework. It’s hard to tell anymore.

Neither one seems particularly thrilled to see me, so I move back up to my office.

Resume working.

11 a.m.
Conference call.

Whenever possible, I try to schedule my calls for 11 a.m. It’s my best time for a call. I finally feel awake enough to engage with other humans on an intelligent level, but lunch is right around the corner so the call can’t go too excessively long.

Sadly, it’s a rare day when I only have one call, so it really doesn’t matter.

Could this call have been an email? Of course.

11:30 a.m.
The dog finally climbs out of bed and makes her way back into my office, sticking her head in the trashcan.

She begins stretching, a sure sign she is ready to go out.

Yell down the stairs for someone to take the dog out. No response.

Stomp down the steps mumbling under my breath about being the only one working and still have to take the dog out.

11:45 a.m.
Ignore first email of the day from Scott.

Noon
Lunchtime! God, I love lunchtime.

My wife joins me for lunch and we chat. I have no idea where the kids are.

1-3 p.m.
Peak productivity, baby!

I am cranking out work like one of those cheesy manufacturing movies we used to watch in school that shows how pencils are made or something.

I am a well-oiled machine.

Nothing can stop me!

3 p.m.
The machine is out of oil.

I keep reading the same sentence over and over.

Time for coffee.

3:01 p.m.
Coffee time! God, I love coffee time.

Walking down the steps, I hold out a small hope that someone has made coffee for their dear old dad.

No one has.

3:30 p.m.
Ignore 2^nd email from Scott asking why I am ignoring his first email.

4 p.m.
Work email has finally lightened up. Time to respond to Scott…

(note from Scott: Derek spent his Wednesday afternoon sending me play-by-play updates every 5 minutes from Game 2 of the 1980 NLCS between the Phillies and Astros. He was apparently watching this on his “research” TV while “working.” I mean, this was a game from 40 years ago! But yeah, I’m the one who overindulges in meaningless emails…) (note from Derek: I would deny this if it were not true.)

4:01 p.m.
Flood of work email comes pouring in. It never fails.

4:45 p.m.
The other cat walks into the office with a confused look on her face.

She is not an a-hole like the first cat, but is dumb as a brick.

She rarely comes up to the 3^rd floor and is probably just lost.

She is riveted by a rubber band under the desk.

5 p.m.
I have lost all focus and the dog is whining to be let out. Again.

Work day over.