I’m far from mentally perfect. In fact, my high school nickname from the smart alecks on the school newspaper was “S.D. the D.S.” I was “Susan Darst,” so I understood the first half. But it took me a long time to realize the second half stood for “the Dumb S-h-You-Know-What.”

Well! I never! Those nasty upperclassmen were just mad at how much I usually cut their bloated, egotistical stories. Ha!

But honestly, I am not a D.S. I take some pride in my God-given good memory and good concentration skills.

Until the other day. I had to go big to the grocery store. There were a lot of things on the list that I don’t usually buy. So I was steeling myself for a much longer stint in my covid-19 mask.

In addition, my cheater eyeglasses have been falling off the top of my head all the time this summer. So I had just put them on a grandma-style chain around my neck.

I hadn’t yet worn the cheater eyeglasses necklace AND the covid-19 mask at the same time. So when I was hurrying into the grocery store, struggling to get the mask on under, not over, the cheater eyeglass necklace, and it came loose on one end and the glasses smashed to the asphalt and the mask hung by one ear . . .

. . . I was getting a little stressed and it was super hot and humid out.

But I got my cart and immediately saw a black foam tray with some really great-looking wrapped watermelon slices with the pointy ends up. I pushed the cart over to get some. I put them in the little infant seat at the front of the cart, where I put stuff I don’t want to get smashed.

Then I went hither, thither and yon, crossing a couple of times from one end of the huge store to another, hurrying to finish the big list. It took me 30 or 40 minutes. Finally, I rolled up to the cashier.

Then, and only then, did I slap my hip as I always do, to collect the little errands purse that I always sling over my shoulder when I go shopping. It was, and is, the perfect size to hold my phone, cash, credit cards and a Kleenex, all in cute little individual pockets with their own little zipper.

BUT THE PURSE WASN’T THERE!

Whaaaa?!?!?

I ALWAYS sling that little purse with the long, skinny strap over my shoulder when I shop. I NEVER put it in the cart because sure as shootin’, it’ll get stolen out of the cart when I turn my back. Yes, this is Nebraska, but . . . you never know.

Oh, no! The purse is gone! My phone! My credit cards! My cash! My unused Kleenex!!!

Since it wasn’t on my shoulder as usual, I figured I must’ve left it in the car. And I didn’t lock it! Because this is Nebraska, and . . . I know, I know.

So I left a little note on my overstuffed cart – “BE RIGHT BACK!” (smiley face) (even though I wasn’t feeling it) – and raced out to the parking lot. At least I could get out of that stifling face mask!

DANG! No purse on the seat! DOUBLE DANG! I must’ve left home without it!

I floored the car out of the parking lot the 30 blocks to our home, but it wasn’t there, either.

I raced back to the store and put the face mask back on, hoping to see if by some miracle the purse had been turned in to customer service. My heart was in my throat, I was so stressed and breathing hard. First, I checked my cart, still waiting there with my cheery note on top.

What? What was THAT?!?

Dangling under the still-pointy watermelon slices in the black foam tray was the long, skinny shoulder strap of my little purse.

Ohhhh!!! Now I remembered.

After struggling to put on the mask over my ears but under the cheater eyeglass necklace, and distracted by the great-looking watermelon slices, I must have put the little purse in the infant seat under the black foam tray.

Bet it was the first time in 10,000 trips to the grocery store that I ever did that!

Why, oh, why, did I completely forget?!? That’s not “me.”

My heart was pounding with stress as well as relief, for everything was still there, untouched. My face flushed with embarrassment and I felt a little dizzy. Suddenly, my cheater eyeglasses fogged up from the steamy breaths coming up from my covid-19 mask, and I couldn’t even see.

But then I COULD see . . . I could see that I am STILL a perfectly smart  individual with a good memory and good concentration skills . . .

. . . but the oxygen depletion when you wear a cloth mask for 30 or 40 minutes is enough to transform you into a LOW IQ individual with a BAD  memory and BAD concentration skills.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Seriously!

Right now, the science is clear. There is no legitimate, rock-solid medical reason for the general public to wear a mask to prevent covid-19 contagion. It’d be different if there were. But there is not.

The “studies” and “memes” that are being cited, claiming that masks work, are either opinions from politically-motivated pundits, or based on ad hoc studies in hospital settings involving a small number of adult participants trained in medical fields, who apparently just sat there and had their O2 measured – did not move around or get stressed by everyday tasks.

These were not legit, well-designed, peer-reviewed studies of large numbers of people, done in real-life settings such as schools, offices, grocery stores and parties, with kids and ditsy shoppers and partiers and workers doing real-life things.

The virus is incredibly eentsy-weentsy, much smaller than the pores in mask fabric. Too many people who have been meticulous about wearing masks have been coming down with this virus, anyway. That includes medical personnel, who have access to much-better masks than we have. There is good science that indicates that breathing in your own exhalations is bad for you, especially for more than a few minutes at a time.

Use your head: are masks truly the answer?

No way. It’s sad, but true.

Oh, I’ll continue to wear mine, to be P.C., until the light finally breaks and the powers that be realize the foolishness of it all.

‘Til then, think I had better limit my mask-wearing to about 10 minutes at a time . . . and stay in prayer for the little kids in school who will have to wear them all day. If we don’t stop this, they may truly become oxygen-deprived, suffer damaged memory and concentration, and become real-life “D.S.es.” Lord, don’t let that happen!

 

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear;

but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

–2 Timothy 1:7


By Susan Darst Williams • 7/21/2020 • www.RadiantBeams.org • © 2020