A tale of Daddy Warbucks and other dogs

Last week, as our nation teetered on the brink of 200,000 citizens dead from a criminally mishandled pandemic, and with my mind reeling from the never-ending stream of disastrous news, I hit the road to escape self-imposed lockdown and hopefully find someplace to unwind in relative safety.

It was Starved Rock State Park, where one could wander peaceful outdoor trails through winding canyons, as gold and orange leaves drifted down through the still air. And although I knew I might meet others seeking a bit of sanity, I felt confident that I would find enough safe social distance outdoors.

First stop was the visitors’ center, to pick up a trail and canyon map. I slipped on my face mask before entering, as the sign on the door instructed.

But as I stepped up to the short line leading to the reception desk, I saw that the man in front of me wore no mask. He looked like Daddy Warbucks—middle aged, bald, square jaw, and dressed impeccably in a black suit and tie. And when he stepped up to the desk, where another sign insisted that masks be worn, he leaned over the counter and talked mask-less with the masked lady working behind the desk. I glanced around the room and noticed a handful of other well-dressed, mask-less men and women who were obviously in his party, there no doubt for a business meeting.

The lady behind the desk said nothing to Daddy Warbucks about putting on a mask, because…well, what would be the point, I guess. It wasn’t as if Daddy couldn’t read. It wasn’t as if Daddy couldn’t afford a mask. It wasn’t as if Daddy were some out-of-touch rube who hadn’t heard about the pandemic.

It was just that some privileged folks think they owe no obligation to the rest of us, not even in plague-year times when the nation teeters on the brink of 200,000 of its citizens dying, and the number rising by nearly a thousand every day.

Fortunately, the trails and the canyons turned out to be all I hoped they would be. Oh, there were other hikers on the trails, but I was heartened to see that each of them donned a mask when we met, as I did. Whole families were on the trails, and all of them—even little children as young as five years old—wore masks whenever they met up with another person on the trails. The only mask-less visitors I saw in the park were the family dogs—and Daddy Warbucks and his crew.

But at least the dogs were leashed as a courtesy to others, and it didn’t stop them from going all tail-waggy when you came near. Because dogs care about humans, even ones they’ve never met before. Daddy Warbucks and his crew? Not so much.

Later, I wished I had asked Daddy what company he and his mask-less crew were with, so I could publish it here and let you decide if you wanted to endorse their products or services. Because maybe the only way to get some self-centered pinheads on board is to threaten their survival whenever they threaten yours.

A fact: America, with four percent of the world’s population, now has twenty-two percent of the world’s deaths from Covid-19. Meanwhile, the president grades himself an A+ for his handling of the pandemic, and his un-masked minions howl and bark with germy glee.

There are those who believe that Sweden took the right path when the pandemic hit—go on with life as normal, and let the chips (and citizens) fall where they may. And although Sweden’s death toll from Covid was initially higher than it was in other Scandinavian countries, their per capita deaths today (578 per million) are much lower than many other countries, including the USA (594 per million). (Data as of September 11, 2020)

Why?

According to David Keyton reporting from Stockholm, Sweden employed large numbers of experts and scientists to report accurately to the population, and then the government trusted citizens to do the right thing. In Keyton’s words: “the people trust the experts and scientists to develop reasonable policies, and the government trusts the people to follow the guidelines.”

And—because they’re Swedes—they do.

American scientists and experts are every bit as good as any the Swedes have. Sweden’s open-doors approach might have worked here, if our experts and scientists right from the start weren’t undermined and sidelined by governmental lies and deceptions that continue to this day as we watch the meter tick upward from the 200,000 who have already needlessly died. It might have worked early on if our president didn’t greet thousands of crowded, unmasked, hooting citizens at rallies and tell them: “You’re warriors!”

So would the Swedish model work here now that the proverbial horse is out of the barn? One glimpse at Daddy Warbucks and his crew should give you the answer. Because, hey, I’m an American—a warrior—and nobody’s gonna tell me what to do. Especially if it’s inconvenient or uncomfortable.

Stubborn, uncaring obstinance is the American way, especially if it’s lauded by the lying lummox at the top of the government.

It doesn’t have to be that way, I’d like to believe, and my Starved Rock observations would support that thought. Almost all I saw there—except dogs of one sort or another—wore masks responsibly.

But even if most of us are acting responsibly, it doesn’t take many Daddy Wardog witless warriors to bite all the rest of us on the ass.

Bite back.

Author, musician and storyteller TR Kerth is a retired teacher who has lived in Sun City Huntley since 2003. Contact him at trkerth@yahoo.com. Can’t wait for your next visit to Planet Kerth? Then get TR’s book, “Revenge of the Sardines,” available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online book distributors.

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