Nov. 02, 2005 - 18:38 MST

Babel

Heather and I were moving around the city today and were struck with the endless stream of "spam" signs. Many signs stating the already obvious need to use some kind of care in doing most anything at all.

We stopped at the empanada palace here in our baliwick and were confronted with a multitude of those yellow plastic fold-outs (often used when the floors are wet -- and then forgotten) One had a warning -- CAUTION --Achtung -- Attention -- Cuidado. Another one probably also in spanish, but I couldn't quite read, might have been an advertisement for Saturday Night Bullfight, or Throw or whatever.

I do appreciate the signs on doors that say, Men or Women or some lingual version in another language that I can remotely understand. Heh, I remember standing outside a door that I thought was a Men's room in another country, when a man walked out, I walked in - - - into the kitchen.

There are so many "official" signs, street and otherwise that if one paid attention to them all we would have a country full of head-on collisions - or worse, leastways it looks so to me.

Then there the attractive nuisance signs, for instance "Employees Only," inciting many of us to do a what if entry. If a sign says "Private Office," "Kitchen," "Storeroom," "Warehouse," or such, perhaps most of us would want to avoid entering. After all, would I like to walk into a ketchup spill ? Or a collapsing pile of most anything in a warehouse ? Private office ? ? ? Why would I want to waste my time in there ? Even if I were job seeking there would be no way of my going in without an express invitation.

But, walking my memory's back trail I remember a time before the organized confusion of "official signs," where heavily traveled streets and arteries were one long blinking, winking electric sign. Light bulbs, neon tubes, signs appearing to move (run by stepping relays) in all the different combinations. I also remember when scenery was almost blocked out from a tourist's view by those gigantic signboards. Burma Shave signs were peanuts compared to the almost acre size boards of latter day.

Maybe it is because I am an old grouch and picky, picky, persnickety. Just seems to me that today there before my eyes is TMI. Much of it repetitious or worse yet misleading or just downright wrong, outdated, or for whatever reason -- 180 out.

One other thing that is a mild irritant, why can't metro area cities all adopt the same way of displaying street signs, height, size, color etc., etc., etc.

I guess the urge to be different is a universal thing. Thinking back to my teen years when the official teenage independently adopted uniform was a denim jacket and a "convict" denim hat. Rainy weather a yellow slicker was the thing. Each generation of teenagers seems to adopt a costume that infuriates their elders. I refuse to be irritated, but do have a sense of wonder at the dress I see our young men wearing. It would be frustrating and tiring to me to wear those togs, all those clinking, clanking chains and things. Bet it is uncomfortable for many kids to sit at a desk in school, something is bound to be pushing, poking or sticking into a tender spot somewhere on their body.

I guess it is up to each of us to inhabit our own private Tower of BABEL . . . . . . . . .

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