Masks aren’t so bad if you think about it. There’s a fifty-percent chance you won’t be recognized when you go to the store with your hair unwashed and wearing your pajama bottoms.
Masks are like aprons for your mouth. You could be hiding that piece of broccoli or pepper stuck in your teeth or a nasty zit or cold sore. No one has to see that pesky nose hair draped over your mustache or your reluctance to shave the last three mornings. All hidden behind that mask.
Masks muffle your chewing gum and muzzle you enough to think before you speak. They keep dust and smog out of your airways and mask the smell of your cat’s litter box.
You’re saving money using only a half face full of makeup so you can afford to make a mask fashion statement instead. It could be your new billboard with catchy phrases or fabrics with kittens and bunnies. A cottage industry of industrious at-home folks who’ve dragged out their sewing machines are making masks as gifts and donations. A new mask commerce has begun. Instead of going to the mall to shop for new jeans you can’t wear to fun places, you can shop online, scrolling through 250 pages of various and delightful masks to be shipped to your house for $5.99.
These colorful masks are certainly more comfortable than C-PAP masks and are really not much different than wearing your favorite sunglasses to keep the glare out of your eyes. As the ER doc said on the 6 o’clock news months ago: If you don’t like using a mask, you sure won’t like using a ventilator.
Masks are hugs for your face. Masks make eye contact and a friendly nod more important than ever, when before a smile would do. We’re all in a mask together. Well, each of us has our own, anyway. I hope.