The rumors are true. I must indeed fess up. I'm a zoomer. A Zoomer Girl. You heard me. I like to zoom. "Who's zooming who?" the great Aretha once asked. The answer, plain and simple: I am. I'm zooming as much as possible. To zoom is one of the greatest benefits of the modern page.
To zoom allows me to do what I can no longer do well: See. To zoom in on the fine print is my ultimate joy. To enlarge the letters on a screen... this is my nirvana. I just zoomed while I was writing this. Bumped it up to 200 percent. I bet you didn't even know I was zooming.
Zooming is a private matter. Or a public one, if you're an over-sharer like me. I'm not sure when I first discovered the zoom feature. It may have been a revelation courtesy of one of my tech-savvy sons, but once I did, I couldn't stop with the zooming. I was hooked. Anything that lets me see better is a good thing.
Why should I squint and strain and add wrinkles to this rapidly-aging face? Why should I suffer the slights of the visually-impaired? I zoom because I can. Whether I'm writing, whether I'm reading, I'm Zoomer Girl, capable of reading the smallest print with the greatest of ease.
Who cares if one sentence fills up the entire screen? I have no pride when it comes to zooming. I will continue zooming. No one can't stop me.
But like all of your finer addictions, zooming has a downside. I want to zoom in on everything. I want a zoom feature in my life. I need a portable zoom lens embedded in my delicate brain. I want to zoom in on what's waiting up ahead. I want to zoom in and overanalyze the situation. I want to zoom in and over-magnify my life and then reduce it to what's really important, and what isn't.
For I am Zoomer Girl. I am my own super hero.
Carol Starr Schneider is a writer living in California.