There he was. Scratching his tousled hair, padding around in his flip-flops, wearing his flannel house pants. "Hello. Hello, Stan," he said, looking into the camera.
I was momentarily astounded. Blown away.
Yesterday, my brother Steve told me to download some free software from a U.K. company called Skype. He said he was using it to communicate with his family in Minnesota and it worked well for long conversations. This I did. I already have a microphone and some speakers on my PC in the basement office.
I had talked to Steve at regular long distance rates on a conventional landline telephone yesterday to see how things were going in Tucson. The weather is great -- rain today -- and he's getting his rounds in.
He said he'd call me today on the new internet connection. Sure enough, this morning when I opened my computer, a record of some failed calls he had attempted were in my Skype inbox. I double-clicked on a phone icon on the Skype software, heard some pings and pongs, then deus ex machina, there was my little brother on screen, talking to me.
All of this is free.
Stunned, I yelled for Kathleen, as though fearing the video image would vanish in smoke in a moment and she'd never believe me. "Come here, you gotta see this," I yelled up the stairs.
She came down and before you know it, we were chatting with Steve and Nancy as though they were in our living room. The picture was clear and the sound was remarkably sharp, with the occasional interruptions and echos similar to what we commonly hear on cellphones.
We talked for 49 minutes and 21 seconds, according to the running log, covered all the topics and then said goodbye, still shaking our heads at the simplicity of this miraculous, no-cost feat. Next stop, Best Buy for a dedicated mini-camera so we can hold up our end of the conversation. . . and then, so we look our best, some new pajamas.
Got Skype? My number is Stan.Rolfsrud 
