Let’s breathe freely

There has been much dispute since the pandemic began about the efficacy of face masks, even within the medical community. Some doctors say wear it. Others say its help is minimal.

I favor the latter approach. I don’t wear masks. I am not a pandemic denier, and I am not anti-vax. I have been vaccinated, though hesitantly this time due to the rush job.

I fight the pandemic in two ways: First, I wash my hands a bit more frequently. Second, I embrace social distancing, which does not require changing my lifestyle in the slightest.

It appears that if you are ill and cough or sneeze, the mask will help reduce whatever you may fling into your immediate vicinity. The mask helps you protect others. Makes sense.

However, if you are healthy, it does little to block your inhaling Kung Flu because virus droplets are microscopic, passing through most materials and around spaces in your face coverage.

And then there is the weird political aspect to the pandemic. If you are a leftist, you embrace masks. If you are a conservative, you embrace liberty. Do viruses vote?

Thankfully, here in Mexico, mask obsession is minimal. And we have few Karens. But there are places you must wear a mask. One is my wife’s gym, which is quite heavy-handed on the mask issue.

And wearing a mask while exercising, from what I have read, is a lousy idea. Exercising or not, it’s unwise to inhale your lungs’ exhaust.

I recently discovered a solution for her. It’s the unmask. That’s one in the photo. It’s sold by a small American enterprise. You can breathe normally through it. I bought one for her. It arrived this week.

If you want to unmask, buy one. If you enter the code UC20 at checkout, you’ll get a 20% discount. Tell them that Felipe sent you, and you’ll score an additional reduction of 0%.

That’s not a typo. I’m always here to serve, amigos.

Where’s the onerousness?

Felipe runs a butcher shop in the next block. He’s a good guy.

I WAS READING yesterday on the blog of an old Gringo who lives in the sticks outside the touristy, Gringo-infested burg of San Miguel de Allende that the old Gringo in question — his name is Alfredo — was finding life in the Plague Year “onerous.”

I am not finding it onerous, just a bit inconvenient at times, but mostly I’m doing just fine. I read, I watch Netflix, I fix lunch, which is the main meal of the day in Mexico, I power walk around the neighborhood plaza every weekday, and I tend to the  yard. With some exceptions, it’s what I did before the Kung Flu tossed everyone into a tizzy.

I don’t garden every day — not the lazy days — but I do what needs to be done, and Abel the Deadpan Yardman does the heavy lifting, so to speak, and there’s rarely much heavy lifting. This morning, I hosed the yard plants for the first time in a couple of weeks, just the plants, not the grass, which fends for itself.

Then I rested on a downstairs veranda rocker and shot this picture of myself. That’s me in a good mood. I already had the camera at hand because I planned to photograph the butcher minutes later during the power walk. The butcher is named Felipe too.

That young man is a red-meat entrepreneur. I like him. He has a wife and a young boy, and they are all well-behaved.

Grinning from ear to ear.

I’m a little scraggly, but I tidied up later. One must maintain standards of appearance and deportment. I learned that in the Air Force decades ago. Or not. Just after snapping this shot, I grabbed my mahogany cane — to thrash unruly dogs — ushered my child bride through the big, red gate, and we powered around the nearby plaza.

Perhaps there was a bounce in my step. She detoured to a little store to buy peanuts for  cookies this afternoon. They are tasty cookies and go great with coffee.

The plaza was empty, so we didn’t have to maintain social distancing. The space was all ours on this lovely, blue-skied, cool-aired, carefree day.

The neighborhood plaza was wide open today.

We’re not letting the Kung Flu get us down. Tomorrow I’ll be meeting a guy named Miguel at the Downtown Casita, and he’ll do some renovation in the carport that will entail removing plants — one of my preferred activities — and installing ceramic floor tile.

Faux brick. It will look sweet.

To date, the Plague Year has prompted two cancellations for the Downtown Casita, leaving just one in place, a couple who’ll arrive in late October for only two weeks. I don’t much care for two-week reservations because the income is hardly worth the effort.

There’s plenty of time for them to cancel too. I rather hope so.

Waiting for the end

Me, right. Her, left.

I DECLARED a week ago that I was giving this Kung Flu baloney two weeks more, and if it had not significantly worsened, we’re gonna bust out of here. We have a week to go.

By busting out, I mean doing something fun, not just going to the supermarket again or to the hole-in-the-wall store in the next block where we buy veggies. I mean going to a restaurant because we’re weary of home cooking, most of which is done haphazardly because we’re not foodies.

We got out a bit yesterday. I tossed some big trash bags into the Honda trunk, and the two of us drove to a garbage truck that sits on the ring road. Then we headed to a pharmacy to buy some stuff. After that, we drove to a carwash because the Honda was layered with grime from sitting in the carport endlessly.

It was not a self-service carwash because I’ve never seen a self-service carwash in Mexico. It’s a two-guy business that normally is full of customers, but not these days. We sailed right in and out in 10 minutes. Paid 50 pesos.

A week ago there was one confirmed Kung Flu case in town, a fatality. As of today, there are 12 confirmed cases and still that one death. The number of confirmed cases has not changed since last Wednesday. The town has over 90,000 residents.

The federal government says we’ll peak next Wednesday.

I use a government website for my stats. The numbers vary a bit elsewhere, but it’s still a minuscule quantity of people. Even in the nearby capital city, the cases are relatively few. So I’m guessing our first restaurant meal will occur on Sunday the 10th.

I think that a year from now we’ll look back at all this nonsense and chuckle, and we will also know at that time that it was about the same as a bad year of the seasonal flu. The U.S. news media want to make this problem look as horrid as possible in their endless pipe dream of torpedoing Trump’s reelection.

Russia collusion? Flopped. Impeachment? Flopped. A plague that Trump invited in? Please, Lord! Let it work this time! Please, please, please!

It’s no coincidence that governors above the Rio Bravo who are trying the hardest to keep everything shuttered are Democrats. Bill Maher said last year that he would love to see a serious recession because it would hurt Trump’s reelection chances. That’s what the Democrats are up to now.