So maybe Michael Jackson was right after all.
The mask… I’m talking about the mask.
Wacko Jacko hasn’t been moonwalking through these unprecedented times (DRINK!!) but he was rather partial to a mask. I’m not sure if it was to shield him from potential airborne viruses or pesky paparazzi. More likely, it was to stop his nose falling off.
Where I live, masks are compulsory in shops and on public transport and I am growing quite accustomed to wearing one. Though, unlike the angel-like healthcare workers, I don’t have to wait until the end of a harrowing 97 hour shift, I can take the mask off after buying a carton of milk or catching a train.
Masks do pose some etiquette questions, including greeting friends and acquaintances etc. I assume one of those etiquette whisperers who pop up on talkback radio when someone touches the Queen has a website devoted to this.
I’ve had a few haircuts since the start of the unpleasantness, and it is a novel (spot the coronavirus reference) experience removing the strap while holding one side of the mask in place as the lovely Tim wields his magic. I don’t mind a chat at the hairdresser, but via two masks, the conversation is as filtered as hopefully the bits of COVID-19.
All these are planted the seeds will eventually lead to the collapse of the nuclear family. purchase generic cialis Helps in development tadalafil buy of new tissue in the body. The article compiles simple and reliable levitra generika davidfraymusic.com information. The main free cialis no prescription ingredient of these various versions of kamagra brand are featured with various benefits.Non-verbal communication is challenging with the mask, you take the power of the smile for granted. I’m deliberately trying to smile more with my eyes, or to use that godawful word… “smize”.
It was interesting at a restaurant the other night watching people arrive wearing masks, then, like a weird masquerade party (thankfully not Eyes Wide Shut weird), they facially disrobed as they sat at their table – or for English readers, “were sat at their table.”
I’m amused by the cliched-redneck-Trump-lovin’-pickup-truck-drivin’-Confederate-flag-wavin’ types who are up in arms (literally) about having to wear a mask to protect others and themselves, but demand their rights to the 62th Amendment that they can carry a big fuckoff bazooka into a Wendy’s for their protection.
STFU and just wear a mask.
I’m not a virologist and can’t confirm the number of eyes the coronavirus has, but as Michael Jackson so eloquently sang, “There ain’t no second chance against the thing with forty eyes, girl.”
©Steve Williams 2020