Masking our Feelings

Americans have strong opinions.  We will march, we will argue, and we will yell out our beliefs from a passing car.

We have had arguments on slavery, sexuality, and guns.  We have made, and often ignored, laws about smoking, tailgating, and jaywalking.  My personal obsession is jaywalking.  If you were in a car and drove through a red light, people would think you were a terrible individual.  Walk through a red light? Not a big deal to most.

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The Beatles followed proper street etiquette. We can too!  C’mon folks!

You are a person; they are a person in a car.  You walk around on soles of rubber; they drive on tires of rubber.  The law should apply to all so why do you not even scurry across as you flagrantly break the law?  If I were a police officer, I would hold a record for the number of jaywalking tickets handed out.

 

There you go.  We have our unyielding opinions.  We have our pet peeves.  Our causes.

The matter that is currently causing a stir is face masks.  Some people that wear them think that others are jerks.  Some people that like to do their own thing and not worry so much think the face-coverers are loony.

I was walking from the bus stop when an individual felt the need to express their viewpoint.  Having no soapbox or pulpit handy, he decided to address me from the window of his red SUV.

“You don’t need a mask!” he bellowed.

I kept walking.  I offered no signs of acknowledgement.

“Take off your mask!”

In all, three proclamations were thrust my way.  I let them fall unanswered.  I am the master of focusing on the horizon and heading towards it.  Though I did feel that his, “Take off your mask!” was a little too close to, “Take it off!”  Perv.

Is this what women go through when they walk down the street?  The stereotypical construction site or the drive-by cat-calls?  My experience was limited to this one guy.  Sara Bareilles has a point; who made him King of Anything?

I see where they are coming from.  I really do.  I miss my parks.  I get that unemployment is stressful.  I like for people to succeed and have food on the table.  Those in the no-mask side of the debate have their valid reasons.

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It doesn’t exactly say, “friendly”, does it?

I was slow to start wearing a mask.  I think it makes a person look paranoid.  It is uncomfortable.  Yet the mask is there keep me from spreading any disease.  Yes, I feel fine.  However if I can keep one person from getting sick?  Keep one person from catching a bug I did not know that I have?  Then I think it is worth the inconvenience.  That is my logic.

 

We all have our reasons.  When I do not understand someone; when a stranger gets on my nerves, I go to one thought.

We are all trying to do what is best for ourselves and those we love.

You steal because you want your kid to have food to eat.  You protest because you need your medications to be affordable.  You march because you want to marry who you want to marry.  It can all be traced back to taking care of those that we love.  And if your motivation is love, how can I get upset about that?

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Oh Grace Bedell; you trendsetter, you.

My concern is that we share our platforms respectfully.  That goes for global warming, faking the moon landings, religion, and one’s favorite sports team.  I saw a woman walk up to a complete stranger and declare, “You should wear a mask.”  (It came across as too bold.  Like the little girl who told Lincoln, “You should wear a beard.”)  Express yourself, yes.  Let us also use tact.

 

We are all going a little stir crazy.  I know I am watching too much television.  Depression and suicide are becoming bigger concerns.  We need to be nice to each other.  Even when we think the other is wrong.  It has been said before, “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

Hey, just my opinion.

About anecdotaltales

He's a simple enough fellow. He likes movies, comics, radio shows from the 40's, and books. He likes to write and wishes his cat wouldn't shed on his laptop.
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1 Response to Masking our Feelings

  1. Pingback: The Death of Me | …Of Course, this Could All Go Horribly Awry

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