Well ladies and gentlemen, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.

There comes a time in all of our lives when ironing abounds.

Ironing, irony, take your pick.

I sit here at my home office on Monday, July 4th, having just masticated the dickens out of an Everything Bagel which was lovingly slathered with copious amounts of cream cheese, and washed down by a caffeinated beverage sporting the V8 brand. 

Rest assured it wasn’t that nasty tomato juice that caused people to epiphonically slap their head and lament not having one.

Instead, this was black cherry flavored beverage in the low calorie varietal.

At my side is Mag-B the SLab offering to liberate some of the lovingly slathered Everything Bagel from my white knuckled grasp.  There was a time when the TharpSter TreadMill would be in here demanding her own share of the aforementioned bagel.  Sadly, she doesn’t want to be anywhere around her canine colleague, so she tends to boycott her favorite pastime of begging for bagels.

You’re wondering where the ironing is in that stupid little story about which dog joins me for breakfast.

At least if you weren’t before, you are now.

Fear not my dear reader.  That was just an icebreaker where I set the tone and put you in the right frame of mind so that you may ensconce yourself in the verbal brilliance I’m about to weave.

It all started about two years ago when the prevalence of reaction videos to the AC/DC song Thunderstruck began to rise on YouTube.  I have no doubt at this point that this coincided with the lockdown.

None the less, to see so many people react in a such a positive manner to a 30-something year old song which they had never heard before has been a source of joy for yours truly.

Yes I know.  There’s no ironing yet, so let’s get down to it.

This last month, on my own accord, I scheduled a physical with the doctor.  The primary reason being, just because.

When I phoned the office a few weeks before to schedule the appointment, they told me that a mask would be required.

I thought this was awesome, because it had been years since I had worn my Lone Ranger mask.

Upon arrival, the entry door was adorned with several signs admonishing me and other intruders that masks were required.  One of them went so far as to suggest that wearing a mask was the polite thing to do.

Fast forward about 15 minutes, I’m now in an exam room with the be-masktecled doctor.  “Let’s have a look down your throat.”  He suggested.

“But the sign on your door said that I have to wear a mask at all times.  Aren’t I going to get in trouble?”

In response, the doctor went on to tell me that he had contracted COVID by merely looking down patients’ throats.  He indicated that he was fully masked up at the time it happened.

He was vaxxed.

He was boosted.

He said that wearing the mask didn’t work.

The instant replay machine in my head replayed that one time about 15 minutes ago where I read that sign on the door that masks were required at all times, and that wearing one was polite.

I made a note that his mask was wrinkle free, and that maybe it had been subject to ironing earlier in the day.

In the end, I came out of that appointment with orders to go get some blood work and a colonoscopy.

More importantly, I learned the real reason behind the mask mandates.

Wear your masks people.

It won’t stop you from getting the ‘VID.

It’s just plain polite.