Face masks are becoming a fashion statement. They’re no longer the pale blue type worn in medical settings. Now you can buy colorful, creative and attractive ones. Some look like leopard spots, others like Picasso paintings, others like quilt patterns. There’s no end to the choices. And since we’re forced to wear them, we might as well make a splash.
I know of artists that have printed their abstracts onto masks as a side hustle.
“You should try that,” Alf said.
“My art isn’t that wearable,” I said.
“Those faces you paint, they’ll do.”
“You mean my painted ladies?”
“Those,” Alf said. “They need to be outed.”
Some people wear their masks like cowboys in the Wild West, covering their nose, mouth and chin, down to their necks. They’re bandanas really, but they do the trick. I wear a red one. Makes me look like a bandit. It’s my chance of impersonating a villain.
The cosmetic companies need to catch on. We need a new line of makeup to enhance our eyelids and lashes since it’s the only part of our face we show to the public. They can call the brand Flutter.
Calvin says, “We need a line of masks too. It can be branded “Muzzle tov!”
Coming back from my two-mile walk in my backyard, not that my backyard is two miles long, it’s not, but I walk back and forth for two miles, I realized what a pitiful sight I am. If anyone were to see me in my sweatpants, T-shirt, no make-up – what for the birds? – they’d say I needed a respite in the local psyche ward. I have forgotten to dress normally, bathe daily, and wear something colorful. Is this what retirement looks like? No, this is what being cooped up at home without the possibility of parole looks like during the pandemic. When restrictions get lifted I will need training in how to be a human being again and a functioning member of society. I will have to wear a bra again! That thought revolts me. I will need to be pleasing, kind and thoughtful to others. I’ve had a vacation from that. And eight hours in an office again when I’ve enjoyed squirrels, birds and flowers as my office, I can’t bear the thought.
Not everything about the lockdown has been nasty as the media wants you to believe. It’s been peaceful. The air has never been fresher. The quiet of the streets allows me to hear the honking of overhead geese, the barking of dogs on a walk, the clamoring of the garbage truck on its pickup runs. We’re making more garbage than ever before. We’re buying and cooking and eating and throwing away. Just today I saw my neighbor throw out his prized flamingo.
Calvin says, “You’re nuts alright. Flamingo? That was a pink elephant.”
California doesn’t have trees that change color in the fall. Evergreens seem to be the look most often when you’re driving. I don’t know why. It’s a pity really. I have to cross the border into Oregon to see them. Those Oregonians planted lots of maples and they reap a riot of color in October. It’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. I can’t imagine what Canada looks like this time of year. The East Coasters got the right idea, they too have these beauties. Here are three from Oregon. Calvin says, “A tree is a tree. As long as it’s upright, it works for me.”