Because if you’re OK with all of that, this show is a don’t-miss gem.

Then, as an afterthought, He yanked out a rib from the man and created woman. I have no idea how that in any way explains the way that women are, but then who understands women anyway? Many have tried, but every time men think deeply about women, they get dirty thoughts. I blame God.

As a further afterthought — or maybe as a way to escape blame — God gave man and woman free will. “What could possibly go wrong?” I imagine He might have said.

My son and daughter, of course, and old friends like Bill and Mike with whom I worked for more than 30 years. And Alejandra and Margaret, loving stroke caregivers I haven’t seen since my wife died almost four years ago.

Sure, it has something to do with ripping off that smothering facemask, but it has to do with way more than that. It has to do with watching more and more of our friends, family and neighbors get life-saving vaccines, and then boosters. It has to do with watching covid infections, hospitalizations and death rate rates plummet as a result.

There was my son Dave and three grandkids by him — Jack, Natalie and Olivia, all between 12 and 16 years old. And my daughter Jenny and grandkids Quentin, Evan and Johannah, all between 23 and 26 years old, with Quentin’s birthday only days away. And Johanna’s kids — my great-grandkids — Anastasia (Asia), who is three already, and Dakota, just barely a half-year old.

That’s why it’s important for principled columnists — like me — to go that extra mile to keep your world expanded beyond the narrow bounds of your lockdown life, to keep you up-to-date firsthand on things that don’t sit just outside your window in Huntley.

It was fun to see the Festival back in fine form — deep fried catfish and country-blues bands in the beer garden of the Rustic Inn, mud volleyball out behind the Route 66 Bar and Grill, carnival rides and booths in the North Island Park surrounded by the Kankakee River, flea market on Water Street, and more. It’s the kind of “redneck roundup” Carol and I both love, with laughter, lowbrow entertainment and cheap beer.

“Hm-m-m,” I said, because as luck would have it, I had chopped wood and carried water just a few minutes earlier on my way out to get the paper off the drive. (Well, I carried a watering can and sprinkled that pumpkin vine at the back of the yard, and I broke up a fallen branch lying on the lawn, so… yeah, close enough.)

I fall into that category. Although I was able to stay virus-free long enough to get the vaccine and become bullet-proof, the pandemic did horrible things to me.

Well, at least not until recently, thanks to that video camera I recently bought, so well-camouflaged that those who are being peeped-upon don’t have a clue that I’m watching them.

I’ll get to that, but first a bit of background.

Take a gander at my cluttered bookshelves sometime and you’ll wonder what possible value some of the items there could have to any sane, sensible man. The answer is “none,” but then we’re not talking about sane and sensible in this case, I guess.

“Yeah,” he said, “I hated seeing all those left-wingers posing as Trump fans smash up that building.”

I have racks and racks of baseball caps honoring the Cubs and the Bears and just about every exotic place I’ve ever visited, but I never wrote a song about any of them.