Crazy! Just Sheer Crazy!

Rub a dub dub, three men in a tub. No nursery rhyme here. Rather, I'm referring to three gay men who once occupied the jacuzzi at the public spa suite located within our local leisure pool facility. And so they recline in the warm bubble bath, keeping themselves to themselves as I made use of both the steam room and the hot sauna, long before Corona meant anything other than a refreshing drink. And so, those three were seen as regular bathers before they moved out of our area, I believe, to settle in San Francisco. But even after their exit from the UK, the well-known nursery rhyme I had to recite at our primary school had taken on a new meaning. At least their names had never appeared under any scandalous headline in our local newspaper, let alone a national one. 

A Bubble Bath. Stock photo.

Rather unlike three teenagers in a car, whose names did appear in the national press, but hey, it doesn't sound so rhythmic as the three men in a tub, does it? But their story had a much greater impact than any butcher, baker or candlestick maker could ever achieve.

I'll refer to the three teenagers only by their first names, but these are their real names: William, Luca, and Ollie. William was at the wheel of a powerful BMW only days after passing his driving test. The car was a reward from his well-to-do Dad for passing the test. And then, just a few days later, William wanted to show off his brand new treasure to two of his pals and so, all three clambered in. 

The over-confident teenager put his foot down on the accelerator as the engine roared into life. Further down, the road suddenly rounds a bend, but by then it was too late. The speeding vehicle struck a grass bank, flew thirty metres through the air before hitting an electric substation. It must have been a spectacular accident, worthy of any James Bond movie stunt, but even before the car came to rest, Luca had already stepped off this planet and into eternity. Seeing his best friend with serious head injuries, Ollie, soon after, took his own life. With the car written off, only its owner got away with barely a scratch.

And so William appears in Court, wisely dressed in a white shirt and a blue and red striped tie. Much to the disgust of Luca's parents, William gets away with a six-month suspended jail term and a two-year driving ban. He is pictured walking free, thumb up and smirking under a large facemask. How is it that here in England, a shirt and tie can make such an impact on the Judge passing such a lenient sentence? It's a story I have seen and read about before. Smart dress is often worn by defendants in their hope to have their sentences mitigated.

There is something about the whole scenario, from the moment he passes his driving test to the snapshot of him leaving Court, which stirs my emotions into anger and frustration! Indeed, supposing I was the father of Luca, the passenger who was instantly killed. Here, I attempt to put myself in his place. I watch as the defendant walks out of Court with a victorious smirk. Yes, how would I feel? Never to see my son again. Watching his coffin enter the crematorium, knowing that after a short farewell service, coffin, clothing and body alike will all be reduced to ashes. 

The silence in his bedroom. A lifeless computer and play station, school books piled on a small desk, his school uniform hanging from the wardrobe door handle, his bed still unmade, pyjamas left thrown on the foot of the bed. His sports kit stashed proudly away in his chest of drawers. The silence. The stillness. Memories going back to his birth, that tiny shrill as the baby takes in his first breath, inflating his lungs for the first time ever. Watching him breastfeed at his mother's chest as she looks so lovingly at his tiny face, bathing him, listening to his crying at two in the morning, joining us at the table as he grows up. Witnessing his progress at school as well as developing into a keen sportsman. Then, as an adolescent, he passes his exams to qualify for university and who knows, a girlfriend, a wife whose own child would make us proud grandparents - but now this.

As William smirks as he leaves Court as a free man to continue living a normal life, there is something gut-wrenching about Luca's death. Oh, so unnecessary! Why, oh why did Luca entrust his life to this over-confident, smart-ass buffoon? In a fit of rage, I fight with every effort I can draw within my fibre against the strong temptation to smash my fist into his smirking mouth and force him to swallow his facemask. But instead, I just stand there, doing nothing. 

As I walk home, or back to the railway station, I thought about what would have happened had I gave into temptation. I would have ended up as a defendant and charged for Grievous Bodily Harm, or GBH. His father would have made sure that I receive the maximum sentence for daring to lay my finger on his son. And the judge would comply, throwing the book with full force at me. Indeed, to be smartly-dressed and well off seems to have big influences in making decisions. After all, if William's father can buy a BMW, just like that, as a reward gift for his son, then he can't be short of a bob or two.

The BMW featured might have looked like this.

And it's this calibre of men which has so much impact right across this nation. Here, I'm talking about the restrictions placed on us by those in authority. It isn't for me to disobey those in authority, as the Bible says, anyone who rebels against authority rebels against God, according to Paul's letter to the church in Rome (13:1-8.) But only today I read in a national newspaper that just one faceless smart guy, backed by a team of doctors, are now persuading our Government to make facemask-wearing compulsory outdoors. I browsed the comment forum under the online newspaper article to check out the general opinion. Just about everyone agrees that this new proposal is utter rubbish, even insulting, and it's nothing more than a quest for greater control without adequate scientific evidence to back it up.

It's bad enough to wear those wretched gags whilst shopping or sitting on a train. Unless the mask is washed in a Dettol antiseptic solution on a regular basis, with me, throat irritation along with coughing will follow. Although I don't agree that wearing a facemask outdoors will deplete the respiratory system of oxygen, as many in those comments think it does, I have looked carefully on the course of the pandemic throughout the last few months. True enough, around late Spring the worst in infection, hospitalisation and death rates reached its peak and they were frighteningly high. A national lockdown was enforced and all three rates dropped dramatically until it looked as if the worst was over.

Then by the end of August and into September, facemasks were made compulsory for all indoor venues including all public transport. I have noticed that the start of the second rise of infection coincided almost exactly with the introduction of and compulsive wearing of the facemask. It seems too, that only one close friend agrees with me, himself a PhD holder. 

I base this reckoning out of experience rather than listening to an expert. If I were to breathe in some coronaviruses in the air, normally they will be all expelled back into the outside air on the very next breath - before any have the chance to stick to a cell within the throat, trachea or even within the alveoli of the lungs. But if I wear a mask, then when expelling, fewer viruses will escape. Hence the idea behind facemasks, to reduce the spread of infection. But if at the same time a mass of viruses begins to pile up behind the mask, they won't be able to escape so freely into the open air. On the next intake of breath, they are sucked straight back into the throat and the rest of the respiratory system. With this back and forth of the viruses within the system, could this be behind my throat irritation, alongside the massive recent rise of infections?

Of course, with not being a doctor or a government official or MP, I don't have the authority to make a stand, but this does not deprive me of having common sense. I personally believe that the compulsive wearing of facemasks lies behind the recent sharp rise of infections. Only yesterday, after wearing a facemask to shop for groceries, I had throat irritation accompanied by coughing. Back at home, a thorough gargle with an antiseptic mouthwash gave some relief. After this, I asked my beloved to wash all our masks in a Dettol solution. 

But the compulsion to wear a facemask outdoors. Perhaps I could think of this:

Going back to the same illustration, here am I, walking along a street, with other people, and I expel some viruses into the air (if I have it, of course - actually it could be normal germs, a cold or a flu virus, so some other niggling pathogen). However, the chance of being breathed in by a passerby is reasonably slim, for in the open air, especially if there's a breeze, the viruses would scatter enough to make it pretty unlikely to be picked up by a passerby, unless he gets really close, almost to kissing, hence the sensibility of the two-metre distancing. But if nevertheless picked up, chances are that they will be expelled in the very next breath.

Thus, although I don't like it, to wear a facemask whilst in an enclosed space, there is some justification for this. Therefore, I wear one when required. Viruses can't scatter so freely in enclosed spaces. 

The Facemask we use.

But how I long to see our Government ministers - and the public too - loosen their reliance on these academics. How I long to see the loosening of the hold these smart guys have on us, by our own choice, this worship of the scientists and MPs behind such restrictive legislation, the robbing of our freedoms which was fought for so hard during the War years. As I see it, wearing a facemask in an enclosed space is reasonable despite the discomfort generated. But I would draw the line when it comes to wearing one outdoors. Under law.

That means if I was to walk along a footpath at a deserted beach, or a park, or in some woods, by the lakeside with very few people around, I would be breaking the law and therefore penalised, despite that there is no way I could infect anyone. Or taking the dog out for a walk. The dog has no need to wear a mask. Lucky dog! The cop would instead come after me.

To make the wearing of facemasks outdoors is sheer crazy! Most of Joe Public would agree with this. But would our ministers listen to these academics and enforce what looks to be a ridiculous law?

Indeed, three men in a tub. Three gay men in a tub. Is there any unseen fondling going on under those spa bubbles? I don't know and I don't want to know either. It's not my business. It's also illegal at a public venue. But they remain wise enough not to get caught. And no way would I snitch, even if I'm suspicious. And yes, for the record, someone tried to fondle me whilst in the bubble bath around forty years ago. I made sure he knew that I wasn't interested. But I still didn't snitch. Therefore, if I was seen without a facemask, walking in a quiet street, through a park, along the riverside or lakeside, or on a beach, I would have to depend on his goodwill not to shop me in.