I hadn't worn a mask until then, and I hadn't planned on it -- as long as I was in my neck of the woods. But then came the stop in Pennsylvania as I made the road trek to New York. The Keystone State gas station store was one thing: my first experience facing a sign denying me entry without a mask. New York is something else altogether. I'm still here, and I'm still suffocating.
I understand that some choose to wear these coronavirus masks. I ain't mad at 'em. People should do what makes them feel safe. So if wearing a mask that some experts say doesn't really protect from the virus and may even increase the chances of acquiring it makes someone feel safer, I'm all about it. I just don't want to wear one; I'm not into doing something just to do something.
As I'm in New York taking care of family, I have the added pressure of remembering to take my mask wherever I go if I intend to be able to, well, go anywhere or do anything. If you live in New York, it's impossible to forget to wear one because -- ironically -- the stuffy, suffocating cloth is now as common as breathing. I don't begrudge it, but I definitely don't like it. I mean, I can see if people feel the need to wear masks in a grocery store or on public transportation or in an elevator, but masks have taken over. I don't pretend to know all of anything, especially about this virus, but I have to tell you: When people are adorned in masks when driving down the road alone in their cars or taking a leisurely stroll down the boardwalk or going for a bike ride, I can't help but think folks have allowed this thing to take over. It actually feels like masks are living, breathing creatures who have taken over Earth, and I'm 100% convinced that if aliens exist, they can't stop laughing.
I understand that some have weakened immune systems and feel they are more susceptible to illness than the average person, and they have to do what they feel to do. Like I said, I'm all for whatever a person chooses for him or herself. But I admit I look around sometimes and can't believe what I see. Masks everywhere. And I mean -- every stinkin' -- where. There was a time people's eyes would have bulged out at what we now regularly see: "Who is that masked man?" Not now. No mask is the new no-no.
Recently, a huge gasp escaped my lungs as I realized I had no mask on my person. How was I going to do what I set out to do? Thankfully, where I was going -- to visit a family member in the hospital during the hospital's newly allowable limited visiting hours -- I was able to get a mask from the staff stationed outside the door. This was after he checked me in outside; took my temperature inside; verified my driver's license, again; and asked me a list of questions that included physical symptoms, people I was around and -- they've gone too far now! -- if I had diarrhea lately. I almost filled him in on my lactose intolerance but decided to just roll with a "no."
At some point, things have to get back to normal, right? And by "normal," I don't mean the same -- because I don't think we'll ever be the same (and some of that is good). The longer people and states take to come out of hiding behind masks, the more wearing them seems normal. Think about it: People are ordering specialty masks. By that I mean, there's a mask for everyone and everything: a Trump 2020 mask, a St. Louis Cardinals mask, a Black Lives Matter mask. There's a mask for every day of the week, and this is what concerns me. When you start matching your mask to your minivan and even to your makeup, something just feels weird. I can't speak for anyone else, but I'm not accepting masks as my new normal. It's not. It's shouldn't be, so please don't hand me a catalog containing various masks of different "styles" to order.
I know the topic of this column may seem odd, but it all seems like some alternate reality to me, so I wanted to put it out here. I've seen so many masks, signs about masks, guidelines about masks that I feel I'm watching a science fiction movie from which there is no escape. It's just all very strange -- and, admittedly, fascinating, for lack of a better word. As I wrote recently, we have to be able to take a step in the direction we want to go. Some are waiting for the "all clear" from government -- which will never come. Some are waiting to just feel like recapturing their lives -- which isn't likely to happen on its own, either. Getting out of mask mania, out of people sitting in their own living rooms smothered by something that is likely minimally effective, if at all, is going to take some heavy-duty effort. This is getting stranger by the hour, so I'd love to see this thing turned around in a New York minute.
Adrienne Ross is owner of Adrienne Ross Communications and a former Southeast Missourian editorial board member.
Connect with the Southeast Missourian Newsroom:
For corrections to this story or other insights for the editor, click here. To submit a letter to the editor, click here. To learn about the Southeast Missourian’s AI Policy, click here.