On Becoming The Masked Hatter
I knew. Somehow I knew. Before the NIH and Dr. Fauci, and certainly before the poseur as President, I was abundantly aware that we would be needing masks to protect us from the coronavirus that was burgeoning in China, although I was far from knowledgeable as to what form these face coverings would take. Or what the start date to commence prophylactic measures would be. And I certainly couldn’t have predicted that masking would still be de rigueur two years hence. When President Trump announced on January 20, 2020, “We have it under control. It’s going to be just fine,” I knew. I knew not to believe him.
I purchased my first mask from Amazon two years ago, in January of 2020. It is called a YINSHOME Respirator Mask, a cumbersome thing that resembles a camera lens latched on to the front of my face, its body when at rest nestled within a hard-shell cover. And while I lugged it in my Coach carry-on when traveling from New York to Los Angeles and Miami during January and February, it remained entrapped within the hoary leather bag. I didn’t actually wear it until March, and didn’t place my bottom upon another airline seat for the next fourteen months.
