I went to Walmart yesterday against all my sensibilities. But I needed a few items, and there I was. This was the first time I’d gone into the store since they dropped their mask mandate.
However, the CDC still recommends that people who are NOT vaccinated wear a mask and distance themselves from others. Even though I am fully vaccinated, I chose to wear a mask, as I don’t think we are out of this quite yet.
As I walked through the store, I noticed only about five percent of the people were wearing masks. Imagine my surprise, my elation, my joy. I became overwhelmed, knowing the turn of heart, seeing that 95% of Preble Countians were vaccinated. I almost ripped off my mask, right there in the cracker aisle.
Of course, I was in the cracker aisle. No jokes, please. I always want a cracker.
Anyway, I hurried through my shopping, rushed home, and jumped on my computer, figuratively, not literally, to look up the percentage of vaccinations here in Preble County. And there it was — 31%.
Apparently, the people in Preble County do not know enough to get vaccinated, nor do they know enough to listen to the CDC. I’ll also mention that this county was one of the top eight in Ohio, percentage-wise, who voted for Trump.
There’s always a story behind the story. There is.
As I clamber down from my soapbox, back to the floor here, I guess I could move on to another topic, like hair rollers or parchment paper, but it hardly seems pertinent today.
Though, it is worth mentioning that today is the birthday of Al Dubin. His name may not be familiar, immediately, but he was born on June 10, 1891, in Zurich, Switzerland.
His family, who were Russian Jewish, emigrated to the United States from Switzerland when he was two years old. They moved straight to Philadelphia.
From early on, the kid loved music. Between the ages of thirteen and sixteen, Dubin played hooky from school in order to travel into New York City to see Broadway musical shows. At age 14, he started writing material for a vaudeville entertainer — this, on 28th Street between 5th and Broadway in New York City, otherwise known as Tin Pan Alley.
Dubin was enrolled in a seminary in 1909 but was expelled in 1911. Although, he wrote their Alma Mater song while he was there. After that, he got himself a job as a singing waiter at a Philadelphia restaurant. He continued to write lyrics, and that was about the time Dubin met composer Joe Burke. Together they wrote the song “Oh, You, Mister Moon. They composed many more pieces together throughout their careers.
He became a successful composer for both Broadway and film. One of his most notable songs is that happy little tune: “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” that he wrote in 1929. Of course, Tiny Tim would pick it up later.
He was known for his larger-than-life persona, yet, Dubin struggled with alcohol and drugs. He fell on hard times starting early in the 1940s. He was married for a time, but that couldn’t survive the additction. He struggled to find work both in Hollywood and New York.
Dubin spent the remainder of the last few years of his life at the Empire Hotel, all alone and in ill-health. On February 8, 1945, he collapsed on the street after having taken a large quantity of barbiturates. He was admitted to the Roosevelt Hospital, and three days later, Dubin died. Famed personality Walter Winchell made the announcement of his death on the radio. Dubin was only 53 years old.
A song, so happy, as “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” coming from a man with such underlying sadness.
As I mentioned, there is a story behind every story.
It is a good reminder as we go out into the world each day. The faces we see might not be the faces we are really seeing. The unmasked may not have vaccinations. The happy might be a little sad. And the angry might be angry for a good reason.
We have to be large, and see with wider eyes. With wiser eyes.
Tiptoe. Through those tulips.
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“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”
― William Shakespeare, As You Like It
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“The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.”
― Albert Einstein
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“Never laugh at live dragons.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien
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Walking through Walmart, or Tulips.
