Putting on a Bold Texas Face Against CV-19

By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall

My latest washable mask is from the skilled fingers of a local young woman artisan who crafted it with variations on our Lone Star Flag. When I drive into town on errands I’m not only doing my small part for the safety of others, I’m also showing my loyalty to our Republic.

May God bless Texas and may He confuse all her enemies.

An axiom of country life in Texas is that a man isn’t fully dressed without his pocketknife. So it was, so it is, so it will be.

And, no, a pocketknife is not a weapon, although as with any other tool (possibly not a tape measure) it can be used as such. A pocketknife is a tool for work, which is possibly what confuses the keyboard commandos and the perpetually outraged who want to ban everything they don’t understand.

Another tool without which a man is not fully dressed for the present is his face mask. Masks can be used by packs of unmanly losers who hide their cowardly mugs while robbing an unarmed store clerk, but that is not what masks are for.

A mask is not about the wearer at all; a mask is about a man’s protectiveness of those whose health is vulnerable to the That Bug (or whatever it is the tubers are calling it this week).  Protecting the vulnerable is what men do, the whole “women and children first” thing.

If you think you look silly with a mask, well, that’s pretty much irrelevant because when you wear a mask, a sick child or a recent transplant patient or your Meemaw or Pawpaw along the chain of being will NOT die.

I look pretty darned silly without a mask anyway, so that’s another reason for me, at least, to wear one.

Surgeons wear masks, as do nurses, technicians, and the EMTs who came out to the house in the middle of the night when your mama fell. The masks aren’t for the health-care providers, who are in the peak of health; the masks are to protect your mama. You love your mama, don’t you?

A surgeon or EMT doesn’t argue against wearing masks based on some specious claim about some amendment, nor does he or she have any problem breathing and working and saving lives while wearing them. It’s about duty.

Look, I don’t like masks. I don’t like wearing them. I don’t like going back to the truck for a mask because I forgot it.  Masks make my glasses fog. Masks smell funny.

And, sure, those are sorrows right up there with mass murder or mass starvation or desert warfare in Whosedumbideawasthisistan. 

Yep, you probably look pretty silly in a mask. So deal with it. Suck it up. Saddle up. Man up. Ride to the sound of the guns. Wear your mask.

A little history about masks: theatlantic.com/photo/2020/07/photos-influenza-masks-1918/614272/

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