Face mask — Blog — Healy Chen

Time is of the essense

Last week, Costco had a sale on face marks. Only five dollars for a pack of 50! Remember during the early days of this pandemic? When there was a shortage of medical face masks for sale? I once paid for a similar box of 50 for 50 dollars! Steep as that price may be, it was absolutely paramount that we protect ourselves.

Comparatively then, five dollars for 50 masks is an unmitigated steal. So I order four boxes. That should last me well into the rest of year (I’m not the type to reuse a mask then next day). I am optimistic that vaccines will proliferate quicker and quicker, that soon we’ll be back to some semblance of normal. However, I don’t think I’ll be stopping mask use even after that time. I may not wear them anymore when I’m at work or in a private setting with friends, but in public spaces I’m going to be Asian about it and continue to wear masks for a long time to come.

I received the shipment from Costco, and sadly only three boxes arrive. I had a decision to make: do I spend the time calling customer support to contest this? The decision is no: my time is worth way more than the five dollars I’d be (potentially) clawing back. Time is the most valuable commodity we have, and choosing to spend it wisely is just about the best thing we can do for ourselves. Chasing after a human error for less than ten dollars is not that.

Similarly, I don’t bother returning things that’s of a similarly low value. The hour that it cumulatively takes to package the thing and then drive it to logistics store could be better spent elsewhere. Like reading a book, for example, or partake in a lesson of guitar. As an adult that makes solid money, I can afford to essentially spend money to save time. Or in this case, forsake money to save time. Either which way, it’s very worth it.

Well well, how the turntables

As an Asian person who’s had a habit of casually wearing face masks when going outside, it’s funny to see that America has finally embraced it as a mechanism to decrease the chances of catching the coronavirus. Who’s the weird person wearing a medical mask now? I’m not saying I’m enjoying the schadenfreude of western countries finally accepting something that’s been a part of the culture in Asian countries for longest time, what with these dire circumstances and what not, but I’m not saying I don’t enjoy it, either.

It seems so basic and obvious that wearing face masks helps to decrease the spread of viruses and flu strains: otherwise, why are officials giving us tips like sneezing and coughing into our shirt sleeves, and to avoid touching our face? A face mask does brilliantly to preempt the need for those preventive actions, doesn’t it? Not only am I not spreading my own germs towards others, but I’m also (somewhat) shielded from the expelled particles of other people. This was especially useful when taking public transportation, and screw those who gave us Asians weird stares and hateful looks during the infancy of the COVID-19 outbreak for having face masks: we’re protected - that’s what matters most.

Anything that may help against a coronavirus that doesn’t discriminate between age or health status is worth doing; like playing the lottery, you can’t say for sure how severe symptoms will be should you be unlucky to catch it.

The example set by Asian countries like Japan, Korea, and Taiwan, how they didn’t have to shut everything down because one, they had enough testing, and secondly, there’s a fierce habit of mask wearing already ingrained into the population. What did the western would do with this information? Much like their preparation for the coronavirus outbreak overall: absolutely nothing. It’s was only recently did the CDC reversed their stance and began to recommend face covering when heading out in public.

I get it, we should do everything we can to provide enough stock of masks and other protective equipment to frontline medical staff. That said, the general public should’ve be reprimanded for buying them for ourselves. Good thing though I already had a stash of face masks from before the virus hit our shores; I’m Asian, after all.