The Politicization of Masks Becomes Personal

They've been friends for years... 14 of them, to be precise. Their friendship survived one couple's moving a short distance away; it may not survive MAGA.

They have vacationed together and spent every holiday together, sharing the photos on Facebook.  Four grownups in the same neighborhood, four adults who enjoyed spending time with one another, four fast friends.  Avoiding politics wasn't easy, but the friendship seemed worth the discomfort.  After all, there aren't many people who will gladly spend a weekend helping you move your mother from independent living to assisted living, sharing hugs as well as the heavy lifting.

They understood one another.  They've watched their children grow and prosper. Their relationship was a bulwark, something on which they all could rely.

Then came Pandemica, spiced with a touch of MAGA.  No one was visiting anyone, not in person, anyway.  It was easier to keep the conversations neutral .... until a wedding invitation arrived.  

Having lived through a Pandemic Wedding, I know the bruises that arise when a young couple is ready to start their life together.  Ours was in April, every one was vaccinated, it was outdoors, and it was very very small.  Not everyone could attend, and that was heartbreaking.  But everyone understood the competing desires/needs/restrictions.  All questions were answered.  No relationships were severed.

So when my friend asked if there would be outdoor heaters (it's cool here in November) and if people would be wearing masks, because she would be wearing one, the shit hit the fan.  

This is not about you!  It's about ME! replied the bride, without any thought to the virus raging through our state.  In November we were worried about the holiday surge.  There were no vaccines.  There was only seclusion.... holidays without family were in the offing and no one was happy about it but everyone understood..... everyone but this bride, apparently.

My friend gets cold; asking about heaters was designed to inform her choice of outfits.  But the mask was a no-brainer.  MAGA hats be damned - she was not going out in public without a mask.  She's her mother's care giver; she could not afford to get sick. 

The bride was having one of it.  Two days before the event, my friend was disinvited.  Via email.  Harshly.  Without compassion.  

She cried.  A lot.  She'd watched this girl grow from her teens to adulthood.  She didn't care for the groom, but she considered the rest of them as her own family.  To have it wrenched away, to be barred from the celebration, to be dismissed because she believed in science ..... there was a lot to feel.

There's also a lot to heal.   They are working on it, slowly, gently, with most of the effort coming from my friend.  Big Cuter says that there is no reason to deal with MAGA people; they are wrong and they refuse to listen, they are obstinate, they are willfully ignorant, and there is no excuse for that.  My friend is trying to repair something that has fractured at its core.  She believes that Big Cuter is right.  She misses her friends dearly.

How did keeping oneself safe become a hallmark of political tension?  Why did the young woman start screaming at me last week when, in a masks required space, I asked her to stay 6' away if she wasn't going to mask up.  I'm not an F'ing Bitch who's too scared to go anyplace without a shield.  I was following the rules, protecting those who might just be at risk even behind their masks.  

A simple piece of cloth.  A means to keep the virus contained.  No shirt no shoes no service doesn't lead to screaming fits and the dissolution of friendships.  I'm just very confused.