When I was a kid in the 70s, my grandpa used to call on the phone and say he could see me.
“I’ve got a video phone,” he’d insist.
“No you don’t, there’s no such thing,” I’d say, every time.
He’d play along for a while before admitting the truth. Then, without fail, he’d say,
“One day there will be. You’ll see.”

He truly believed it. I always think about him now, and what a shame it is that he didn’t live to see video chat become real. He would have loved being right.
If you’re Gen X like me, you probably remember The Jetsons. It was basically The Flintstones in reverse, set in the future instead of the past. My favorite episode was the one where Jane Jetson had a scheduled video chat with three of her friends. She had just woken up, her hair and makeup a mess. In a panic, she grabbed a mask of her own face and held it in front of the camera. When the scene switches to the other women, we see that all three of them are doing the exact same thing, holding up their own face masks.
So much for the magic of video calling.
I must have been about eight when I first saw that episode, but it stuck with me. I thought it was funny that my grandfather’s dream of video chat would come true only for people to try and avoid using it.

Fast forward a couple of decades. I’ll admit, it took me a while to warm up to video chat too. Why? Because suddenly I was expected to brush my hair and put on makeup just to sit in my own living room. What’s next, putting on a bra under my sweatshirt?
In the tech world, I’ve been working remotely for years. More and more companies have embraced video calls, and a lot of us have found sneaky workarounds. Turning the camera off. Uploading a flattering still photo. Basically, the modern equivalent of a face mask. Every time I see a colleague’s headshot light up as they speak, I think of Jane Jetson and my grandpa.
Then came lockdown.
Suddenly, none of us could leave the house except for a grocery run or a solo walk. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy lounging on the couch in mismatched loungewear, no makeup, no bra, and zero intention of changing that anytime soon. I had my cats, my husband, and my work as a web designer and digital marketer. During the pandemic, I was busier than ever.
Technically, I could have gone days without speaking to anyone.
But the truth is, we’re social creatures. And like many of you, I’m now incredibly grateful that my grandpa’s wish came true.
The pandemic pushed us all to embrace video technology faster than we probably would have otherwise. Camera adding ten pounds and highlighting every imperfection? Whatever. These days, I leave my camera on and talk face to face. Sometimes even with coworkers. And let’s be honest, it’s kind of fun to see how Tom from accounting decorated his living room.
Instead of Friday nights at the pub, I started doing Zoom parties on the couch. I drank wine with friends from across the country. I threw on a cute top, brushed my hair, maybe added a swipe of mascara, and kept the sweatpants.

Technology has grown exponentially since the 70s. We went from rotary phones bolted to the wall to mini computers in our hands. With FaceTime, Zoom, Google Meet, and even Facebook video, it really does feel like people are in the room with us. My husband plays games with his daughter remotely. My girlfriends and I gossip from three different time zones. Even my parents figured out how to FaceTime from an iPad.
We started on farms. Then we moved to factories. Now we’re in the digital era. The pandemic forced businesses, big and small, to adapt or disappear. And what a time to adapt. Creativity exploded. Innovation became survival. People who had never used Amazon started ordering groceries from it. Restaurants who never delivered suddenly had to figure it out. Going digital wasn’t a trend. It was a lifeline.
My grandfather didn’t predict the pandemic, but he was right about one thing. Video chat would change the world.
Now we’re playing Cards Against Humanity on group calls. Watching movies together across states with synchronized video and chat. Kids are attending virtual classrooms. My niece actually got in trouble for falling asleep during math class on camera. She inherited my DNA, clearly.
Every day, something new emerges to solve a problem we didn’t know we’d have. Every day, new opportunities open up for connection, creativity, and reinvention.
Video chat was once science fiction. Now it’s sweatpants, ring lights, and a very real part of how we live and work.
My grandpa was right. We did see it.
And we’re just getting started.



