Tuesday, October 1, 2024

Signs, Signs (Everywhere, Signs)

 

But I Speed Up for Scarlatti?


I come from superstitious Irish Catholic stock. My family tends to see signs from God (honestly? It’s usually the Blessed Virgin Mary) EVERYWHERE. You think that photo of the piece of toast that looks like Jesus is silly? I don’t! Why wouldn’t our Lord show up on my breakfast table to encourage me/warn me/whatever? I'm super big on statues that cry real tears and miraculous cures at Lourdes, and even though I’ve been Lutheran for decades now, I still believe in Messages from Above.

 

But this post isn’t about THOSE signs. No, this concerns the more commonplace signs one might encounter in a store window or on a car bumper. “No shoes, no shirt, no service!” scolds a sign outside a clothing store in the mall. I can’t help but think this is a poor idea—I mean, don’t you WANT shoeless, shirtless folks to enter your emporium in need of purchasing those exact items? Back in the day, dry cleaners offered “One Hour Martinizing!” Maybe they still do? I may award a complimentary martini (get it?) to the first reader who can explain what the heck martinizing is.

 

I am often amused by the stickers affixed to the cars in front of me on the road. There’s the “Student Driver” (I REALLY need to get one of those for myself, so that people stop expecting me to be a good automobile operator!), and the “Honk If You Love Jesus!” (I worry about that one, because what if the honking is because there’s a significant road hazard up ahead, and I just blithely assume it’s the other driver merrily toot-tooting in praise of the Lord?) Then there’s the ancient VW bug with so many old, peeling stickers (most involving the Grateful Dead) that the vehicle’s color is impossible to ascertain. 

 

It's Election Season once more, so many yards are festooned with political signage. I am very sad that posting a sign in support of your favored candidate or party now IMMEDIATELY invites animosity, and even theft of said placard. I read about Ye Olden Times, when one neighbor had a Goldwater sign and the guy next door had one for LBJ—and NOTHING HAPPENED. They even remained on speaking terms, arguing only over borrowed and unreturned lawn mowers! 

 

I am reluctant to put up any kind of sign, because frankly I’m not passionate enough about anything to risk trouble—oh, I’m Pro-Ice Cream and Anti-Tofurkey, but I’m not going to scream my preference to the world. I’d rather remain an enigma, a woman of mystery. Let others plaster their yards and cars with their opinions. I’ll leave you guessing! It’s safer that way.

 

Seriously though, I know I’m being cowardly, and right now none of us can afford to be that. At the risk of alienating my fellow travelers, I really should put out a lawn sign or two, just to take a stand. 

 

What do you think of:  “In This House, We Support One-Hour Martinizing”?

 

So there!

 

I feel much braver already.