In the grip of mask hysteria

A year ago, if someone was spotted putting on a mask before entering, say, a bank, they would have called the cops.

Now, the cops might get called if someone enters barefaced.

I’m not sure I like this new world where we are anonymous to one another. A crinkle of the eyes is all we can see of a big smile anymore. The cues we always took from facial expressions are obscured by a piece of cloth or paper.

Personally, I don’t mind strong recommendations (as opposed to edicts) to cover my nose and mouth. And stay home or at least six feet away from everybody else? I’m quite an introvert. I can live with that.

The face-covering debate is, you might recall, actually a bait-and-switch from a more serious discussion we were having before mask mandates diverted our attention.

I was shocked earlier this year when apparatchiks used “the science” to force private businesses to close, as if educated people were disinclined to protect their customers and instead had to abandon their means of making a living. The economy had to shut down for the greater good, whether it really was a good thing or not.

In the end, it’s fruitless to try to discuss this calmly. As with so many other everyday issues, lines have been drawn and emotions will run too high, and anyway the water is under the bridge and the ships have sailed.

I’m just here to say I miss smiles, and I miss mouths agape with astonishment or glee, and I miss watching someone try to stay serious when all she wants to do is laugh out loud, and all the other delights of the bottom halves of our faces.

It’s to save millions of lives, after all, right?

Thousands have died, but it would have been so many more thousands if government hadn’t swooped to the rescue, right?

People are out of work and wondering where their next meal will come from, but at least they’re alive, for now, right?

Can you tell if I’m smiling?