LONDON, U.K. -- Vending machines.
Those Germans are so smart. Using vending machines in train stations to issue face masks. Drop in a coin, push a button and out pops one of those light blue surgical masks.
All the more brilliant, now that masks are mandatory across Germany. The state of Bavaria will fine you $200 if you step on a train or enter a grocery store without one.
Then I found out about Poland’s Maseczkomat. Not only can you purchase a mask—disposable or reusable—you can pick up a little bottle of hand sanitizer or gloves.
A number of Polish towns are making the machines available as a public service. One less reason to go into a store.
Of course, Taiwan began dispensing free facemasks from vending machines, long before just about anybody else.
I only bring this up because the United Kingdom, as we share our sixth Friday together under lockdown, remains staunchly and stubbornly mask-less.
Look east, dear Britain, and you will discover Europe is all covered up. The same Europe you are about to leave behind through Brexit, seems, on this point, rather far ahead.
Declaration: I have become a mask advocate, even radical, like some reformed smokers.
Austria, the Czech Republic, Poland, Germany have all recommended wearing face coverings. France will begin handing out masks as it slowly and cautiously sheds it pandemic cocoon this month.
There sits Britain, alone and open to the air. But be assured, dissent is brewing in the land.
Scotland was the first to break ranks, and it came directly from Prime Minister Nicola Sturgeon, who leads the Scottish independence movement.
Yes, she announced firmly, the public should wear masks where social distancing is hard to do—on a bus for example, or in the supermarket.
She didn’t exactly call it a no-brainer, but that’s the way it was interpreted.
Except of course in London, specifically in the office of Health Secretary Matt Hancock, who dismissed the idea as “weak science,” on the advice of expert advisers.
Unbeknownst to the hapless Mr. Hancock, he was about to receive the political equivalent of a kneecapping.
You see, things have changed now that Boris Johnson is back in command—a new father and coronavirus survivor. That may have altered his perspective.
“I do think face coverings will be useful,” declared the prime minister, throwing Mr. Hancock—and the experts, for that matter—under the wheels of an oncoming bus.
For epidemiological reasons, added the Prime Minister, “but, also for giving people confidence they can go back to work.”
So much for weak science.
By the way, it appears Boris Johnson celebrated the birth of his son with Champagne this week. After the news was made public, a case of 1999 Dom Perignon was delivered to the front door of 10 Downing Street.
You can buy the same vintage on the Fortnum and Mason website for £155. My handy currency converter tells me that’s $272 Canadian.
With many millions out of work in this country—and pub-less—perhaps the bubbly could have been more discreetly slipped in through a back door.
Or hidden in a baby carriage.