by Karyn Zoldan
Ugh. Today, I had to drive around the city a bit for one of my other writing gigs and then meet a friend for lunch. Everywhere I looked and didn't look was a damn sign. Every politician has a sign posted here or there. Some are tall, and some are short. Some have a big bold font, and others remind me of an vision test. Signs leap from the bushes and lean on the curb.
And it's only going to get worse. To me, all these signs are as unsightly as graffiti. If you post a sign, you'd better be there whether you win or lose to take down the sign.
On the southwest corner of Speedway and Wilmot sits about 20 signs that say, "Vote for me." Instead, I feel like voting you off the planet.
I don't mind the Humanitarian Aid is Never a Crime signs. They have somehow silently popped up around the city though mostly in Midtown. It's unlikely you'd ever see those signs in Patagonia. I also noticed lots of for lease and vacancy signs, both commercially and for apartments. One sign said, "We love our residents." I wonder if they still love you when your toilet overflows?
I passed a short sandwich board sign that said, "Mongolian BBQ, now open." Hey, what's with that? It's been open for the last two years. Signs on power poles advertise lost pets and cheap labor. I've seen a few signs that say, "Real estate investor seeks apprentices." Yeah, right. That sounds like scam waiting to happen.
And then of course, my all time favorite—the weight loss patch which would only work for me if I put it over my mouth.