Moose, one of our bullmastiffs, got a bath the other day.

Emmy scrubbed.

I held the door.

Moose saw me, a.k.a., “the lady who gives him treats,” and immediately squished his face against the glass door.

He offered his best, sad dog eyes. Help! Lady who gives me dog treats! Help! The whole experience made me think of the Super Bowl.

We are my Bullmastiff.

Face pressed against the glass, waiting to be let out while we watch the special people live their best lives.

Did you watch the Super Bowl?

And the celebrities?

Did you wonder how those beloved humans entered lockdown central, Los Angeles, but didn't come close to COVID?

Because COVID cares, obviously!

It won't leap on you if you make seven figures, have a driver, or someone who picks out your clothes.

But it will leap on the less fortunate.

People like us.

Who wash their dogs.

And clean their clothes.

And mop their floors.

But clever celebs?

And their precious handlers?

They do what they want when they want.

Unlike the children in LA schools, you see.

Whose faces are daily pressed against the glass.

Children that watch the adults say one thing and do another.

Like LA mayor Eric Garcetti. The one who held his breath, like a five-year-old at a swim lesson, the last time he took a picture with Shaq.

Remember him?

Gosh, I'm so thankful for his sacrifice!

But this time? He took actual gulps of actual air to chat up the fancies that attended LA's grand football celebration.

What a guy!

But for us?

We're stuck in the cheap seats.

Stuck where COVID looms just over the gritty, regular people concession stand. And the squeaky, slightly dirty, molded plastic seats.

And aren't we thankful?

At least the people who got to go to the Super Bowl were allowed in the same space as the great ones!

What would we do if we couldn't watch our betters, in person or on the socials enjoying Super Bowl Sunday?

The ones who play ball or make movies?

What would we do without a remarkably friendly Ellen?

Or Charlize Theron? She did tell us not to be an A** and wear a mask.

But it's ok. She's special. And so, so pretty, which makes it A-Ok!

Or King James? The third-best basketball player of all time?

No one could reach him to put a mask on, but who would try?

Who would have the nerve?!

But that's not the issue.

This issue is, I didn't want to write about this.

But when an event happens and WE ALL SEE IT, what am I to do?

Oh, but it's almost over!

Is it?

Is this over?

The, 'Follow the rules, unless you make a lot of money, or hold a significant position, you can do whatever you'd like?' Is that what's almost over?


That's what's not over.

Look to Canada if you think otherwise.

And to "those people," a.k.a., pastors and citizens and truckers alike, who've had their faces pressed against the glass for two years.

That's. Not. Over.


We're still escorted out if we don't slip a mask on our face when the flight attendant says so.

Or when you're in court, even though everyone walked in maskless and will walk out just the same. 

We still face the not-so-friendly old guy, who holds up his wear-a-mask-sign at sporting events, even though coaches, teams, and the notables are free to be maskless.

Are you sick of this?

Are you sick of playing pretend?

Here's looking at you, still masked, college students.

Aren't you sick of this?

Of your faces pressed against the glass?

I hope we ALL are.

Sick of It.


How does that relate to Alabama?

Because it's election season!

And the Hollywood celebrities and our politicians are not much different, are they?

Eager beavers who run around and ask us for a vote.

The same ones who blame and shame.

Who didn't help us - not willingly anyway - when we needed it last fall, with our kids and masks, or those parents in Madison County, Alabama, who’ve just filed a lawsuit over masks.

How did it ever get to this?

That somebody could compare Alabama officials to the Glitterati at the Super Bowl?

Because they're the same.

Say one thing.

Do another.

There is good news.

That crowd counts on our vote.

The question is, will we stay there?

Faces pressed against the glass?

Or are we willing to ask those who ask for our vote deep questions?

Are we willing to dig into who's funding who? And why?

Are we willing to press when no one else will?

Are we willing to call until our answers are satisfied?

Are we willing to stand tall when they shame us for asking questions they don't like?

It's game time.

What will we do?

Amie Beth Shaver is a speaker, writer, and media commentator. Her column appears every Wednesday in 1819 News. Shaver served on the Alabama GOP State Executive Committee, was a candidate for State House 43 and spokeswoman for Allied Women. The views and opinions expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the policy or position of 1819 News. To comment, please send an email with your name and contact information to