Who is that masked man?
If you look to the right of this column you’ll see another column about parents in the state of Tennessee and their response to making their children wear a protective mask and about the COVID-19 vaccine.
Maybe I’m a big ol’ chicken, but the response from this survey, conducted by Vanderbilt Center for Child Health Policy (whatever that is) is kinda scary.
It’s sad that a parent — an adult — would have any reservation about putting a mask on their child if there was even the slightest possibility it could protect them.
I know Uncle Karl says masks aren’t helping anything and, “Wearing those ... Stupid sheeple ... Can’t drink no whisky and ... Where’s my smokes ... Can’t stop no microbes!”
That’s a direct quote, too. That’s exactly what he said.
Last time I saw Uncle Karl, he was walking down the street in a bathrobe carrying a bust of William Howard Taft while singing “Wind Beneath My Wings.”
He loves that song.
All right, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is probably making all this COVID stuff up. Either the CDC or the Democrats.
It’s all political.
All of it.
So, Uncle Karl probably knows more than those trained scientists.
Not to mention the bust of William Howard Taft probably tells him he’s one smart cookie.
“I know the CDC says don’t get together for the holidays, but ... Dumb sheeple ... Turkey! ... Ho ho ho! Christmas! ... What’s that President Taft?”
I’ve been looking back at news articles from the 1918 flu pandemic, and while it’s a lot like the current COVID-19 pandemic, it’s also very different.
For one thing, it was more than 100 years ago.
People dressed funny.
And everybody wore masks because doctors and scientists said that was a good way to protect yourself. There were masks for smokers, too. Seriously, you could unbutton it and enjoy your cancer sticks to your heart’s undelight.
These articles were written before the media became the scourge of the planet.
These articles were written before Republicans hated Democrats and before Democrats hated Republicans (and the rest of America).
These articles were written by people who were just as afraid of death as the people wearing masks.
These articles were written in a time when doctors were respected and trusted. Sorta like bankers and lawyers used to be, way back when.
And the reporters were trusted. Yes, journalists were trusted to write a story without putting a political or social spin on it.
I know, I know, it’s hard to imagine.
“Gosh darn libacratic media ... Doctors my foot, quacks more like it ... Oh, rolling around in raw sewage ain’t gonna hurt nobody ... Here have a smoke ... Say again, President Taft?”
I just thought parents — all parents — would take any precaution for their children.
But I guess times change. Maybe parents in 1918 were better. Or cared more. Maybe they believed in their doctors. I know it’s easy to examine yourself with all the tools on the internet, so maybe people figure learning how to Google a symptom is just as good as however many years (something like 17, isn’t it?) of medical training it takes to be a doctor.
“I think I have Bell Phillips Echomidas Symptom, doctor. I need this medication,” one might say after Googling all their symptoms.
“I think you should just let me pull that splinter out of your finger,” your doctor might answer back.
“Quack ... Alien staple more like it ... Saw that on the TV Friday night ... Ain’t wearing no mask that looks like a diaper ... Want to get a drink, President Taft?”
Maybe if someone shouted “Masquerade Party Mob!” people might not whine so much about wearing a mask.
Right, President Taft?
