I Am That Masked Man
By: Terry Barr
Tags: Food, Warm Hearts, This Happened To Me, Family, Covid 19

Not that the entire time with our girls was light. We ventured out on a couple of occasions since in South Carolina, despite the Covid-19 spikes, businesses are trying their best to keep us supplied with what we want and need. They don’t all enforce mask-wearing for themselves or their customers, and so we very cautiously decided to risk our safety for the sake of accommodating first-world whims.

Two trips to Farmer’s Market/Curb markets where we bought heirloom tomatoes, fresh field peas, peaches, strawberries, summer corn, and squash. Only a very few people wore masks, and none of the employees.

One trip to a Japanese maple stand, adjoining a fireworks stand. My daughter bought two fledgling plants, no fireworks, and my wife ventured in to pay, emerging with a strange look:

“That’s a lot of fireworks they have in there,” she told us, making me realize that never in my life have I entered a fireworks store. I don’t like fireworks, actually. I don’t mind seeing them shot professionally, but I don’t care to try any of them at home.

Can you believe I’m from Alabama?

Two trips to Mike and Jeff’s Barbecue for ribs, pulled pork, beans and slaw. No masks, no problem, so far. Not much distance at the register, but we wore our masks and are hoping. The food was soul-satisfying, though.

One trip to our local bagelry, which won’t let customers inside, but accommodated everyone well outside. Employees were masked and maybe half of the patrons were too. At the Middle Eastern falafel joint later, no masks, but better spacing.

Some of us at some of these places felt watched and judged. It is an odd experience to approach a retailer while wearing a mask, but the more I do it, the safer I feel and the less I worry about others’ judgment.

Except.

Yesterday, as I picked up our anniversary lunch, I emerged from my car, mask in place, to be confronted by a couple older than me, who were maskless. The man emitted a series of barks or yelps. I’m not sure which animal he was mimicking, but as I passed, I heard his wife say,

“Quit being such a smartass.”

I can’t be sure if his sounds were directed toward me. Maybe he’s just one of those older southern people who enjoy barking or yipping when they get out of their vehicle.

I passed by them without saying anything, and later they actually directed me to the right entrance. So maybe all of this was harmless.

I can’t be sure if his sounds were directed toward me. Maybe he’s just one of those older southern people who enjoy barking or yipping when they get out of their vehicle.

What isn’t harmless is our failure to extend courtesy to each other, especially those of us who are compromised and fear getting this virus.

Later that evening, I said to my wife,

“Maybe we’re wrong and all those people who believe that only a relative few will ever contract and know that they have contracted the virus will be looking back in a year and saying ‘See, what was all the worry for?’”

For these people, carefreely going about life as they always have, their world looks, and perhaps will be the same as always. And good for them if they’re right.

In the meantime, I just don’t see why we’re afraid of or resistant to wearing masks for our own and for others’ safety. So what if someone is telling you to do it? Is this really such an imposition on your rights? Do you really believe that Donald Trump knows what he’s doing and has your back?

And do you really resent me because I want to be sure that I’m not giving you anything or getting it from you?

Believe me: I would rather not be wearing a mask in public; I would rather that this virus be eradicated. I would also rather not get sick, so I will continue wearing my mask when I venture out to buy my daughters barbecue, bagels, or hummus.

I will value our time together and mourn our time apart. I will love and face the future with eyes open, nose and mouth masked.

And the other thing I know: I don’t need to defy common sense to prove that I’m a strong and able human being.

I wish that for you, too, and if you weren’t yipping at me, I apologize, which, I know, is another way I’m strong. Another form of showing and facing our mutual humanity. Our love.