Trina Machacek: Read my mask

A friend of mine has a new baby. Every time she dresses the baby there’s something written on the clothing. Like, “I’m a cutie!” Or, “What is this word “NO” you speak of?” Cute sayings all babies should wear. I love them all. As we grow we are still pulled to say something about nearly everything we have an opinion on. Often we choose our chests or backs to display our thoughts. Toddler, teenager, young adult. There does seem to be a short period of life where we, okay where I did ditch the clothing with words or kittens or something else screaming off my shirts. Not a long spell, but for a time.

Even the most conservative people I know have worn some sort of notice somewhere on clothes. Might just be the name of the shoes they wear or an I Love You heart shaped locket, we occasionally use ourselves as bill boards. I have no problem with that. I enjoy a good giggle at something someone thinks up oh and Faith based notes get His word out and that’s always a wonderful thing in my humble opinion. But! Yes a screen printed “but.” Today there is a new way to tell me and everyone you come face to face with just how you feel. It seems things have gone from, “Read my lips,” to “Read my mask!” Yes the mask. The anti-pandemic mask.

In years past I noticed people looking at my uh, will the front of my shirt to see what was on my pea brain. Now though. Now the eyes have lifted to peoples faces to see what they are wearing and screaming at us from their choice of masks.

Like yesterday. I was in a gas station standing on my X as to not get to close to the guy in front of me. Then a second man disturbed all the unseen floating germs as he slipped between me and the patron in the line in front of me waiting to pay for his two Three Musketeers, his gas and a frozen drink of some kind because it was at least 87 degrees outside. Oops, slipped the elastic off my ears and fell out of the masked phase of the story. OK, first who is this line slipper man think he is to mess with what was supposedly my six foot clean air space. Moving on. I noticed that Mr. Line Slipper was wearing his face shield and it was a tannish color with a bright red border—apparently to get attention so I would read his face which magically stated, “Abracadabra!” I’m like, abracadabra poof you disappear right? I might have even moved my hand like I was holding a magic wand. Yes pretty sure I “wanded” his existence.

There are very distinct lines crossed in this mask/no mask world we are now navigating. It’s getting nuttier than Aunt Martha’s three year old fruitcake stuck up in the tall cupboard above the stove until it’s ripe with teeth pulling goodness. Yikes. I do not want to publicly take a side of the mask. Oh rest assured I have a side. Come on it’s me, I have a side on all things that cross my path. But it isn’t about what I do or don’t do. I do however have to relate a few silly things I and many of those around me have noticed about the mask.

In reality things have come up in conversation in my circles and probably in yours too. One is seeing someone alone in their car, driving along from somewhere to someplace when you notice they are wearing a mask. Don’t let the part about alone in a car get by you.

How about this. A picture on Facebook of two women in line at some store wearing masks and gloves and paying for their booty. They seem to be quite involved in what they were doing and oblivious to this… Looking closer at the picture there is a toddler in the basket seat thingy, chewing on the basket handle. Ick.

The mask has become the new T-shirt for talking without saying a word. Unfortunately I can’t understand you when you talk to me with a mask on. So the fix to this problem? You pull down your mask, talk to me and then put your mask back up and go on. Such a perfect process.

Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Find her book “They Call Me Weener” on Amazon.com.