Who's that masked man?

"Say!  Who was that masked man?"
"Why, don't you know?  That was ...[pause] ... the LONE RANGER!"
[In distance]  "Hi-yo Silver!  Away!"
[Fade in William Tell Overture theme]

I gave into fear and trembling last night.  I went on-line and purchased two black masks.

Masks play an interesting role in the legends and iconography of American childhood.  Usually, they symbolize the bad guy, the bank robber, the Beagle Boys.  Especially when the masks are black.  Masks in the Old West tended to be merely large handkerchiefs folded in half, forming a triangle that hid the bad guy's identity.

But sometimes the masked man was a good guy.  For example, The Vigilante was a masked government agent who barreled around on a motorcycle with his young Chinese sidekick.  You folks probably are too young to remember him, but he appeared in comic books and, for me, more notably, in movie serials showing at your neighborhood theater.  Another guy, maybe good, was Dumas's Man in the Iron Mask.  And, most sublimely of all, from those thrilling days of yesteryear, the Lone Ranger.

There was also the Masque of the Red Death, but let's not go there.

My mind wanders.  But yes, I sent out for a mask.  For two.  Black masks that will cover my nose and mouth, making me look evil or a hero, depending on your predisposition.

The reason, of course, is Covid-19.  First they say no, then they say yes, waffling back and forth as to whether it's worthwhile for the average guy to wear a mask.  The masks I'm buying aren't the N45 masks that medical professionals need -- those aren't easily available to the average guy, and it would be virtually unpatriotic to buy them if they were.  These are cloth masks.  The advertisement very carefully pointed out that these were not medical equipment, but suggested that they might offer protection to other people if you yourself were infected. 

Some folks are masking themselves in old t-shirts.  These should be better -- or at least more stylish.

No one seems to know for sure whether such cloth masks protect the wearer himself from other people.  I gather that they do provide significant protection if someone near you coughs or sneezes, but maybe no protection from virus-bearing aerosols that they emit from normal breathing.  I don't plan to wear them walking outside -- I'm pretty careful about keeping my distance from others -- but they may become reassuring if I have to enter a building occupied by a number of other people.  (I've so far avoided this threat, except for an early grocery shopping trip over a month ago, before I discovered the wonders of on-line, pick-up grocery shopping.)

More and more folks are wearing masks everywhere, even riding bikes.  I think they look odd and geeky.  But not as odd and geeky as they did a couple of weeks ago.  You get used to things you never thought you would.  I now feel confident that I could go out in public looking like the Lone Ranger, and no one would bat an eye.

My two new masks are surprisingly expensive.  Or maybe not so surprising, considering demand.  Add shipping costs to allow them to reach my house while they are still needed, and the total expense irritates me.  But a little voice asks me, "How much do you think your funeral would cost?" 

That sort of puts things into perspective.  I shall stride forth bravely masked.

From out of the past come the thundering  hoofbeats of the great horse Silver!  The Masked Blogger strides again!