Mask Men - a meditation on masks

 Mask Men - a meditation on masks

By Charles E. Kraus

Seventy years ago --

I'm guessing most of you did not sit in front of the radio, later the television, listening to, then eventually getting to watch, the Lone Ranger pursue and ultimately capture a weekly quota of desperados. To refresh my memory, if not yours, this would have been in the mid 1950s.   I might add that none of the criminal element on either the radio or the television versions of the program, wore masks.  Only the good guy, the Lone Ranger, got to wear one.  His mask was a trademark.   It shielded him.  Not from health risks, but from detection.  He preferred an unlisted face.  

During the earliest run of the show, when Lone was merely a radio cowboy, it was difficult to convince the listening public to picture him wearing a facial covering.  Tonto, his Native American sidekick-companion-partner-administrative assistant,  addressed his chum as Kemosabe, but when discussing him with other characters in the script, uses the term Masked Man.  That moniker was repeated by as many cast members as possible.  The idea was to remind audiences that the show's namesake preferred to remain visually anonymous.  

This brings me to my mask.  Mine is not worn to hide my identity, unless of course, I decide I want to avoid getting Covid while robbing a hometown credit union.  I've merely taken a common sense approach to outlasting the pandemic.  Though I hate to admit it, I have trouble remembering to don mine; even after this extended pandemic, covering my face still feels counterintuitive.  I rush from my car hoping to purchase a quick 7-Eleven coffee before hitting the freeway, and wouldn't you know it, I've once again left my mask on the dashboard.  (I don't usually wear one while driving alone because I feel no need to protect myself from myself.  Too redundant.)

Shortly after the start of the pandemic, my wife and I acquired boxes and bags of the highest rated masks available on Amazon.  The ad copy indicated tight fits, superior filtering, an assortment of fabrics, patterns, and artwork.  Unfortunately, my facial structure is rather narrow, and most masks give me foggy-glasses-syndrome. Coming in from the cold, I find air escaping from the upper regions of my N95, flowing across my lenses and creating enough frost for my eyeballs to finger paint.

These days we are all old hands, or maybe old faces, when it comes to using masks.  Adjusting the ear straps, crimping the nose piece.  We know the protocol; how to fasten them, when to remove them.  We understand that they are a long term temporary inconvenience.   But, imagine being a toddler who believes for sure that before people leave the house, they get dressed, and that part of an outfit is the mask.  Someday, soon I hope, Dr. Fauci is going to stand barefaced in the middle of Times Square, and give us the all clear signal.  Most people will rip the masks from their faces and heave them asunder.  But not the very young.  Told to remove their facial covers, we may find tears, or at least resistance.  Whispers of never trust anyone over three.

As for the Lone Ranger,  no unmasking for him.  Asked why, he told the press he's allergic to sunblock.