“Sticky tape!”

A 21-year-old kids’ cartoon show informs our second summer of COVID

Benny the Bull is my hero.

Benny is the little blue beast who got the goods on Dora of Dora the Explorer.

He established early on that she was a hidebound and callous little nut. She preferred to lecture through the fourth wall of the Nickelodeon TV show than to actually protect the residents of her cartoon kingdom in a timely matter.

Does that sound like anyone you know in real life? If not, it will in about three minutes.

The first season’s 14th episode opened with Benny in big blue-bull trouble. His hot-air balloon had sprung a leak, and he screamed at Dora from the basket that he needed “sticky tape!” to patch it.

Considering that she actually had such tape on her person, it seemed unconscionable that she and her boot-clad monkey fellow-traveler took 20 minutes to get the tape to Benny and his crashy balloon.

She dawdled. Like a child.

She waited patiently while her talking backpack chattered, as usual, about the things inside of it, such as a banana, a flashlight and a pair of socks, and the fact that they are not tape. She calmly strolled, sang and danced along the way to Crocodile Lake — which by its name is obviously not a happy place for an imperiled balloonist to visit —before delivering the repair material.

Benny shrieked “Sticky tape!” over and over, trying to communicate his opinion that it was more important to save his cornflower-blue hide than to count things in English and Spanish.

But Dora was busy doing that, because that’s what she always did. She also consulted The Map, who insisted, with his typical time-killing redundancy, that he knew where the balloon would float.

She lost the tape to Swiper the Fox due to cartoonish negligence and had to waste time looking for it in the woods, where he had hurled it.

As Benny was running out of time, he mooed plaintively, “Have you forgotten about the sticky tape?”

The tape was provided, at the last second possible, just as Benny — and Dora and Boots the monkey — all narrowly escaped death at the teeth of crocodiles. Dora’s sloth had endangered her own life, as well as Boots’ and Benny’s.

There was much singing and dancing then by everybody but the crocodiles in celebration of Dora and Boots’ accomplishment. Benny joined in with marginal enthusiasm, but he did appear relieved to be among the living.

Does this story appear metaphorical? 

Maybe. In our family, if somebody is slow to respond when there’s trouble afoot, one of us is likely to yell “Sticky tape!”

That happened again this week.

We’ve apparently got millions of Americans who aren't dead-set against getting vaccinated against COVID, but are waiting as long as possible to make their decision.

These people know, since the vaccines had to be released with only an emergency approval, there’s a small chance that the shots have some flaw, still not even guessed at, that could conceivably come up.

If miracles come true, they could get an answer from the FDA by fall, and then deign to get a shot. But it's never happened that fast before.

So for now, they’re happy to be safe from the possibly evil vaccines, and apparently not overly concerned that they are still fair game for the genuinely evil thing the vaccines are very good at stopping. 

Oddly, a lot of these types of hesitant people work in hospitals, clinics, nursing homes and such. They’re tested frequently, so if they get infected, they’ll know right away. Maybe they figure they can get treated before it gets out of hand.

And they may be less likely to catch COVID, anyway, since the patients they work with are generally vaccinated, and all are required to mask up and get tested. And most of their co-workers are, unlike them, vaccinated.

So, like Dora, they’re in no hurry. It’s not hard getting along with somebody else’s troubles.

Those who collect benefits from the actions of others while not participating themselves are known as “free riders.” The phrase usually refers to people who choose not to join the union that represents them.

They know that labor law requires they receive the same benefits as those who pay dues. But if there’s a strike, they don’t have to stop working and collecting paychecks.

Meanwhile, the vaccine-hesitant free-riders are possible Typhoid Marys, and walking petri dishes for new and exciting COVID variants.

They may think they’re relatively safe because the virus is somewhat rare, and so many of us have submitted to vaccinations. That was never true, and it’s less so now that we have the Delta variant, which seems to spread as easy as Wispride on a toasted bagel.

So if you want to work in a hospital, a federal job or a school, respect your coworkers and patients and the kids by not trying to kill them. Prove you’re vaccinated or go home.

The rest of us are in the balloon with Benny, wondering if you’ll do your duty before it’s all over for some of us.

You have no compelling reason to delay. And if you do, the person you’re most likely to sicken is yourself.

It’s like Dora and Boots again. They were pretty blithe about the crocodiles when only Benny was heading for the lake. But then, because they waited to help until the balloon was almost in the water, they were in range of the teeth, too.

I rooted for the crocodiles. 

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