It’s the season of masks and fog now too. November has traditionally been associated with fog. Then so much of this year has been fog after fog, with more Novembers to come.
Only 2020 could confer ignominy on that innocuous combination of four letters which make up the word “mask”. Who would have imagined last February, that by autumn of this year it would have accumulated the force and potency of its more famous sibling – that other word of four letters, three consonants, one vowel and ending in ‘k’?
It would be impolite to spell it out here, frightening those refined souls up the page as they contemplate matters spiritual. Not to mention the erudite ones to our left as they complete the crosswords. They, who have no need to resort to the f-word, even to get their darkest feelings across.
I resisted wearing a mask for as long as possible. It is so uncomfortable and damns me to foostering along in a fog. As evidence accumulated, the inevitable loomed and I consented to wearing a visor. Then, it too was declared as useful as bleach, or Donald Trump, or both combined in preventing the virus.
Masked up
And so I surrendered, masked up and accepted my destiny to struggle through a fog as my glasses steamed up regardless of so-called fog-prevention measures, none of which worked for me.
My choice is stark and simple: I fumble through the fog with my glasses on, or do so without them – my Covid-19 reality from here to a vaccine!
I have walked by friends unseeing, with a cool indifference worthy of Yeats’s horseman, seemingly taking social-distancing advice to another level.
Then there’s the matter of how frequently we use these masks. One medical expert said we should treat them as we would underwear, which merely underlines the rarefied world in which some of our doctors live.
The image itself is perturbing. I never had to referee a bitter struggle between my glasses and underwear.
And, were some I know to change their masks only as frequently as their underwear, they should be avoided like the plague (indeed!).
For now, the mask goes on, there being no alternative.
Mask, from French masquer. Conceal from view.
inaword@irishtimes.com
