When my state issued stay-at-home orders due to the coronavirus, I was working at a grocery store. Face masks for employees became mandatory. The company supplied each of us with a mask cut from a length of black cotton jersey.
I thought we looked like ninjas, except with the shock of ninjas appearing blatantly in public, in daylight, stocking shelves and working cash registers, some perhaps retired ninjas, now plodding, with beer bellies, probably incapable of performing the agile, cat-like maneuvers they once did.
Many of us, unused to the oppressive sensation of the mask, would periodically slide our mask, still attached at the ears, down by our chin, so it looked like we were sporting hearty black beards. I’d see small circles of employees talking amongst themselves, taking a breather from the new addition to our uniform. I felt like I was at a casting call where everyone was vying for the role of Abraham Lincoln, and everyone came in costume.
With the current state of affairs and George Floyd in the news, I think the world could benefit from some Abraham Lincoln vibes right now, even if they’re acted out by a troupe of amateurs.