The Bluestone Review Spring 2022

Untitled By Randall Gilmore

In the angst-filled COVID world of 2020-2022, fierce arguments

erupted, and continue to erupt, over the efficacy of masks.

For some, masks are part of a conscientious approach to help limit the lethal spread of the contagion; for others, mandating masks is a personal affront to individual liberties. In the halcyon days of my childhood, however, masks were not so controversial; they were used simply to hide the identities of my favorite super heroes, Batman and Robin! The television series Batman! debuted in 1966 when I was three years old and continued until 1968. The show is the first that I remem ber, with colorful and memorable characters like “The Joker;’’ “The Penguin;’’ and “The Riddler,’’ among others. And while surely everyone knew who the Dynamic Duo was since their masks hardly covered any of their faces, nevertheless their anonymity remained intact, despite numer ous attempts to unveil their secret lives. Over the years, I donned several masks myself, usually at Hal loween, where I put on the visage of a skeleton, the face of a celebrity, or some other representative of pop culture. I tried on a catcher’s mask once, but one baseball practice was enough to convince me that the “tools of ignorance’’ were not for me. Recently , though, as I reflect on my life, it came to my attention that I have worn other unseen masks, as well as those that were visible to all. I have put on the mask of deception and oft-pretended to be someone I was not. I have hidden behind a persona of humility, when pride secretly lurked. The veil of disguised ambition, anger, laziness, greed-pick a vice-has cloaked this man from facing his own demons. But in 2022, as I witness vitriol from the halls of Congress to incendiary social media platforms, I have grown weary of wearing a mask; not of the cloth or N95 variety, but of the secret sort of covering that hides transparency, accountability, gentleness, and honesty.

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