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Fauci’s Farcical Facemask Follies
Full disclosure: I’m a mask skeptic. A mask denier. I am not, though, a mask refuser. If a business establishment puts up a sign that says “mask required” or, better, “please wear a mask,” I’ll do it without too much grousing ’cause that’s me, I’m a giver. I carry and, as required, wear a mask for the same reason I carry a leash when I walk my German Shepherd Dog. I don’t need the accouterment in either case, but if I can prevent anyone feeling ill at ease with my actions, I will. Did I mention yet that I’m a giver? Yeah? Okay, drivin’ on.
As we’ve navigated this pandemic, I’ve seen indicators and warnings (term of art, in my previous life) that we’re all getting played across the board by this pandemic reaction and mitigation efforts. What I am saying is not that there should be no mitigation or protection efforts. I’ve stated my preferences of the start point for protecting the vulnerable before, and early on in this grift.
I’m definitely not a medical professional, but I’ve received and maintained (mostly) some extensive medical training. In first aid ABCs (Airway, Breathing, Circulation…) I at one point was good to go up to “J” (insert J-tube into chest). Also, I’ve had some extensive CBRNE (chemical, biological, radiological, nuclear, explosive) training, including “live agent” training. I’ma tell you what, you want to pay attention during class on how to ensure you stay “clean,” take that class knowing that you’ll soon be in a chamber full of Sarin nerve agent, watching a poor, staked out caprine do the kickin’ chicken. It indeed focuses the mind.
Too, I’ve been married for at/about 137 years to The Lovely And Talented Mrs. Mongo, AKA Supernurse. So through osmosis on her journey as an Army CASH operating room nurse, Labor & Delivery nurse, open heart nurse, and clinical risk manager, I’ve become an inadvertent expert on a lot of random medical stuff, to include sterile procedure, infection control, and personal protective equipment.
Still, I’m not a pro, so salt my anecdotal observations and conclusions therefrom to taste.
Hurricane Isaias (ridiculous name, why you makin’ things harder than they need to be, NHC?) was barreling up the coast last weekend thru this week. We were supposed to be having some time off at the family beach house in Topsail Island, NC. Some back of the envelope crisis planning indicated that we’d better hunker down here in the Keys. However, our youngest daughter, call sign DEMON SEED, was flying in on Saturday with three girlfriends to have a lovely week at the beach. I’ve known these kids for years, love ’em all, even Demon Seed. So, I went ahead and flew out to make sure they were good to go during the storm. And to rent a car for them, since if you’re under 25, you may as well buy a Rolls as rent a car.
I transited Ft. Lauderdale Airport, to Charlotte, to Wilmington. As usual, I spent most of my time watching people, not my phone.
Whether you believe in masks, this whole “mask up” situation is useless.
More than half the people I saw had their mask pulled down below their nose, so they could, I dunno, breath.
You don’t have to wear a mask when eating or drinking, so if I’m just sitting in a seat, reading my kindle, my mask must be on. But if I’m eating a grinder from Jersey Mike’s I just take the mask off. No problem, no violation of “the rules.” Hello? Do y’all not know how transmission works? “Y’all” being the powers that be that wrote these ridiculous rules.
Many people pulled their masks down to their chin in order to be better understood on their phone–while they were walking through the terminal.
I saw a group of stewardesses meet in the middle of one of the terminals I was in. All were masked, but big hugs and air kisses and “I haven’t seen you in so long” s. Mm-hmm. Safety first, ladies.
Encouragingly, I didn’t see any babies or toddlers wearing masks. Hopefully, some parents have done the reading.
“Social distancing” is a joke. Despite whatever markers on the floor, it seemed to me that the Great American Public has decided that, in a crowded airport line for Burger King, Einstein Brothers Bagels, or Jersey Mike’s, the appropriate social distance is about 10 to 15 inches more than what most Americans consider personal space.
Once one sat down to wait at one’s gate, there didn’t seem to be a problem with just taking one’s mask off, eating/drinking, or not. Saw all kinds of Joe Biden “just let the mask flutter off one ear” practitioners.
As stated, I think this whole “wear a mask” phenomena is a scam, a hoax, a grift. Have you seen our precious mainstream media pushing out tech-specs for masks that will actually protect you or protect others from you? Me neither. The number of people walking around with pull up neck gators that just make them look like a circumcision gone wrong, but do nothing to protect those they come in contact with, was legion.
[At this point, I should note that we rode out the hurricane with no problems. At/about 2200 we started to experience hurricane storm effects. I had to sign off of the AMU and make sure the girls were good to go. Of course, they were. They had decided to play various and sundry drinking games thru the storm. I, of course, am way to mature and responsible to join in on that sort of sport drinking…not.]
Seeing what a sham all this mask-wearing and social distancing is had me on a slow boil. This is idiocy at a grand strategy level.
The American Airline’s warning pronouncements only served to stoke the fire. “Your nose and mouth must be covered except for approved activities. Failure to follow these instructions could lead to you not taking this flight, or future flights, on this airline.” Thanks, sphincter notches.
I got first-class, round-trip tickets for a great price. Of course, once I was told that “all food and drink services are suspended” I figured out why I got such a great price (full disclosure, TL&TMM got my tickets, I suck at that kind of thing and never really think about using mileage points to better my in-flight experience). Still, the bigger, wider seat was nice. Although, the fact that a drink cart would not be slamming into my shoulder due to the suspension of services mooted the win, a little.
[The announcements about the suspension of services included declarations at the gate that stated that if you wanted food or drink during the flight, buy it in the terminal and carry it onboard your own self. But, according to federal regulations, alcohol not procured on the plane is not allowed. Demon Seed and her crew were having none of that. They boarded their flight with a plethora of jigger bottles stashed about themselves, plus Gator-Aid, Smart Water, and flavored nonalcoholic seltzer waters as mixers. I guess they got a wee rowdy. Once the stewardess’ figured it out, as the lovely ladies partied on, the stewardess would do a drive-by and confiscate their drinks. At which point the girls would check to make sure the coast was clear, and mix more drinks. Their uproarious enjoyment of the flight led to a young lady of commensurate age making snide comments that our little bevy of princesses were sure to hear, which led, apparently, to an epic “Hey, Karen, bite my tooshie” rant from one of the girls. I mentioned I love these kids, right?]
I was at a low, rolling boil by the time that I took my final flight from Charlotte to Ft. Lauderdale. Plus, I was also vexed with the knowledge that my bird landed at 1700, and then I had to drive from Ft. Lauderdale to the Keys. In my car. The car that doesn’t have air conditioning. If you haven’t done a drive like that in that kind of traffic, you don’t even want to know.
So, maybe I was brooding a little bit. Maybe my brow was furrowed and I was kind of grinding my teeth a little bit at what I’d seen of our current societal silliness and in anticipation of the vehicular gauntlet I was going to have to run to get home. Then that guy made an appearance.
I was sitting in the last row in first class. Across the aisle from me as a well built black guy who had the foresight to bring a sub sandwich on board, and the patience to stand in the (non-social distanced) line to get it. In the seat next to me on the window was an American Airlines pilot. Even in his mask, he looked pretty nebbish. He was carefully going through different airplane specs on his tablet, and making manual notes. I want that guy as my pilot.
My low boil got a spike. The guy in the first row of economy, across the aisle from me was a classic 305 area poseur. Masked, a white V-necked T-shirt, skinny jeans, some type of popular, white leather sneakers. Dude had that hairdo where the sides were clipped close, but the top was overlong and mega-gelled.
In a simpering voice that, 10-15 years ago would’ve meant that he was a very queenie homosexual, but these days just means that he’s a male of a certain age from a certain area, he FaceTimed a confederate.
“Well, they say there is a policy, but it’s, like, totally unenforced. Look, there’s someone without a mask, and there, too. Can you believe it? Oh no, I’m taking pictures and I’m documenting all of this.”
Okay. On the one hand, I get it. It’s kind of what I’ve been complaining about. The airline has a (useless) policy, the exceptions to policy are kind of nebulous.
On the other hand, this simpering, self-impressed, self-important git who has never done anything productive in his sorry life is delivering pronouncements on people that just want to get from point A to point B, and the airline that wants to facilitate that in the face of zero good decision-making data.
This little twinkleberry pushed all of my buttons, as I listened to his monologue. I counted to ten. I did my self-control (and tactical) breathing. Four-count in, four-count hold, four-count exhale.
The black guy with his grinder across the aisle was tensing up. The masked pilot next to me was obviously aware of and taking umbrage at this douche-canoe’s comments.
Okay, breathe again, man.
My fingers drummed on the armrest. I ran through courses of action and thought about the most likely outcomes and most dangerous outcomes and how to mitigate both (I’m such an Army geek). Also, Mongo has learned through trial and tragic error to lance the Rage Boil early. The more the tempests of temper build, the more likely that my chosen course of action will be inappropriate and excessive. I know that. Breathe 2-3-4, hold 2-3-4, exhale 2-3-4. Ahh. Calm. Nope.
I turned in my seat, pointed the blade hand at the masked pretty boy, and said, from the diaphragm with the blade hand-chopping to emphasize each word: You. Are. A. Wussy.
Of course, the word I used wasn’t wussy, but you get the idea. Twinkerbell put his phone down and looked away, not a peep from him the whole rest of the trip. Black dude with a sub gave me head chuck, the one that means not only do I agree with you, but I’m with you if there’s any fallout. The nebbish-y pilot dude got really into the specs displayed on his tablet.
The rest of the trip went fine. Even the traffic on the way home was good.
We need to end this mask/lockdown insanity.
It’s useless.
Published in General
And they think you suddenly turn stupid and incompetent when you turn 60. I am so sick of these little millennials on Reddit and LinkedIn acting like we can’t use a computer or a cell phone. I was using a computer when you were 5 years old you little snot. There I feel better now.
I was using computers before they were born.
And here I thought sarcasm was permitted.
Permitted, but not always detectable on the InterWebz.
My Mom was very active, walking several miles a day, until her 91st year. Then she went downhill extremely fast, not eating much at all for nearly 6 months and passing away after a 2-week stint in critical care, weighing less than 70 pounds. It turns out she had a bleeding ulcer and an esophageal fungal infection, not diagnosed by anyone until the CC docs did a colonoscopy and endoscopy. By then the strain on her heart was too much. I blamed her primary care doc and others for not investigating further why she wouldn’t eat, but how far do you go when someone is 91?
I was writing code to implement their bleepin’ cell phones’ ability to connect to the internet before their parents started dating. I was on the internet when it was still Arpanet. I was on computers when the only mouse in the computer lab was the one that survived on stray Cheetos and half-donuts that had been thrown away.
The day the Internet died was the day they let Pitt connect to it. ;)
Not all of us lived in the programming-by-tube days.
I was building computers before they were born. Heck they probably had my FBI hacker file open by then.
My first printer wrote in pencil.
And don’t forget working with Ada King.
That’s a fair question. And given today’s life-saving/prolonging technology, one that really needs to be asked at times.
Tubes? Nah. That would be old-timer stuff.
I did do patches through the access panel switches a handful of times.
Wire boards.
(My dad in the dark jacket, circa 1960).
Pencils? You had pencils? We carried rattler fangs to draw blood to scratch out messages.
You had rattlers? Back in Egypt, we had to rely on asps.
My grandchildren can’t grasp the world of BBS and the bank shots required to send Email.
My first CPU device: I built a 2k Motorola chip computer from a kit sent from England. Clive Sinclair later sold it thru Timex (yeah, the watchmaker) in the US. A B/W small TV, an adding machine tape printer, reel-to-reel tape recorder for storage and I was doing spreadsheets. Bumped it up to a whopping 16k RAM. Dude.
The Timex Sinclair. I remember those.
I was eleven years old when my dad and I soldered together a Heathkit H-8. I studied the schematics to troubleshoot my soldering, and learned machine language before anything else. I bow to no young whippersnappers when it comes to technology. (Irritated my children to no end–couldn’t put anything past me like their friends did to their friends’ parents.)
https://ricochet.com/415405/archives/remembering-heathkit/comment-page-2/#comment-3733117
I tell youths that back in my day if you wanted an app you had to write the code yourself. I was quite proud of a primitive database program but the crowd was more impressed with a silly GW-Basic “animated” program that drew an American flag on a TV monitor.
Since I got my first PC in 1984 (which was not my first computer) any time I complained about software, my dad simply told me, “So, write it yourself.”
So I did.
Policies designed to limit the spread of the virus would be less “useless” if people followed them.
What if those policies were not actually designed to limit the spread of the virus?
It won’t really work but the right sorts of chaps will give it the old college try and comply so there is that moral victory element so let’s implement it anyway! The likelihood of compliance is a major part of the policy planning process.
When a bandana or some cloth anything is deemed compliance and when we can take our masks on and off in restaurants etc., it has clearly degenerated into kabuki and mere gestures.
Mask mandates appear to be have been based initially on the notion that exhaled droplets full of COVID were the real danger. A mask will certainly prevent you from sneezing COVID snotballs at someone in front of you–there is pretty solid science on that. We have seen CDC go up and down on the danger of surface contamination so that is up in the air. Fauci returned last month the to idea that COVID can enter through the conjunctiva around the eyes.
However, the simultaneous increase in COVID cases across the southern US as air conditioners all came on in June gave credence to the theory that lasting circulated airborne particles (not in ejected saliva or snotball ) are the main form of transmission in which case, sustained, repeated shared time in enclosed spaces greatly degrades the likely effectiveness of all non-high-end masks.
In other words, the rather incomplete science of transmission (we still don’t know how many days a potential transmitter can transmit) combined with the inherent limitations of masks in use, the nature of activities in enclosed spaces, and the certainty of incomplete compliance makes six months of mask-wearing a dubious undertaking, more symbolic than substantive.
There are no studies confirming the effectiveness of mask policies. There is no difference in case rates or death rates based on dates of implementation of mask policies. But the number of cases would have been much higher. Except that there is no proof of that. Swedish and rural Texas corpses would be piled high if that were true.
What enrages me is that intense proper mask use should have been part of a serious regimen for those in regular contact with the vulnerable rather than a fruitless universal attempt to stop the overall spread. Put Granny behind a PPE wall, support, equip and train those in regular contact and the rest of us go back to normal with reasonable hygiene practices and just let the bug burn out. Instead, we are locked into bad policies because no one can admit they were a mistake and on top of that we also have a silly moral and political debate about masks which debate is as useless as the policy itself.
Excuse me if it’s hard to take these people seriously.
I hear that Nancy is blaming the salon owner for not telling her about the rules.
Of course she is.
Apparently the salon owner is furious that she did this.
Anyone who still believes that our political leaders themselves believe in what they are telling us we must do really needs to reflect on how yesterday, Nancy Pelosi not only went out and got herself a haircut, sans mask, but then she was amazed that people were over the top annoyed at her for her hypocrisy.
But I thought if it makes only one person feel SAFE, you have to wear one.