Wearing a mask in Arizona in the year 2020


It's October of 2020, and I've been wearing a mask for months. Well, not right now, in my house, but every time I've gone out in public, since April. And since I like history, especially written first-hand, I thought this would be a good time to tell you how I've felt wearing a mask here in Arizona during that time.

I live in Glendale, right on the border of Peoria, which is suburban Phoenix, Arizona. When I started reading news of the pandemic, I helped a friend by ordering some disposable masks online, and when they arrived I asked for a couple of them, and started wearing one. My favorite mask, which I got soon after that (the polka-dot one in the pic up there) I lost just a couple of weeks ago. It must have blown away while I was out riding.

I go over to my local McDonald's, which is open for walk-in service, but the dining area is still closed, every morning for coffee. And before any type of official mandate was issued by the mayors of Glendale and Peoria, I could tell that my wearing a mask got some hard looks from people. Yes, it was a matter of politics, not science. I know that the people at McDonalds appreciated it, the same way that they would appreciate my coming in wearing shoes, and a shirt, and not smoking (not that I would!).

I'm not a scientist, but I understand a few basic facts of how the physical world works. I wore a seat belt long before it was required by law (yeah, I've always been that guy, asking you if you would mind buckling up), and I know that a lot of people resent being told what to do by authority. I was a young person in the '70s, and I've always questioned authority. If they're wrong, I'll reject it, and if they're right, like a seat belt law, I won't have any trouble following them, because I'm not really following them, if you understand what I'm saying here. I also stop for red lights, but not for fear of an authority figure giving me a ticket - I see the traffic coming the other way!

Like I say, I'm no scientist, and I know that a virus is too tiny to be stopped by a cloth mask, but I also know that a virus needs a medium to travel well, and the tiny droplets of water that come out of our mouths is a highway that it can use. And I remember mask being called "virtue signaling", which I actually liked. It was my way of saying to everyone around me that I care. My mask protects you, your mask protects me. I understand that, but for people who don't, all I can say is that I wish they did.


By the way, I also got more masks from the Woman in my Life, including one with wiener dogs. And while it isn't the most comfortable thing to wear when it's over 100 degrees (which it was this summer), it's really not all that difficult, at least for me, as I'm an old desert rat. And while I may not be in my first flush of youth, I'm bursting with health, and since COVID-19 can be contagious from someone who looks the picture of health, I really don't mind masking up.

Arizona is, and always has been, a place where respect is shown to neighbors. If you go somewhere and you go through a gate which is open, you leave it open, and if it's closed you close it behind you. There are a lot of good people in Arizona, and even though it gets hot (like crazy cook-an-egg-on-the-sidewalk hot), it's the place I love, and hopefully I will be there forever.


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