Jun. 21, 2002 - 22:08 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Remembery

Like my friend Ziggy says (paraphrased) "You can't live in the past, but it doesn't hurt to visit it."

What is today's anathema was once a source of interest and passing entertainment to us kids. Billboards, signboards, from the mammoth ones on top of buildings with the blinking lights and the neon and zeon signs in the windows of businesses made life colorful, to the billboard secured against the wall of a small building. Each change was noted and made us feel up to date and informed, variety spiced our lives that way.

Along the roadways near towns they were close together, but there was not much scenery behind them anyway. Not much that would interest a kid or most adults either - then. Not when a few more miles would take you away from the billboards. All but the Burma Shave signs. What a blast a trip was that was along a route that had plenty of Burma Shave signs. Eagerly read out loud to the grown folks and milked for humor.

In our neighborhood there were some of the metal billboards attached to store building outer walls. They usually had show bills on them, movies coming to town, etc. Each new posting was eagerly read by us kids and circus show bills were top notch, all those wild and ferociuos animals, clowns and circus wagons. Anticipation was at fever pitch with us before the circus hit town.

Then, later on, it was noticable that the big signs along the roads were stretching further and further out from the towns. Competition between sign companies going after big advertisers was vicious. Rather than a sign saying something like automobile batteries available ten miles ahead, and cottage camps the same. Now they DID keep folks from seeing nice scenery.

During the Depression the bill board postings got pretty tattered and torn, faded and worn like orphans in the storm. Some of the giant signs downtown began to go lightless too. Yet they were signs yet to us kids that there would again be fun and happiness in the world.

World War Two came and Public Service building here in Denver went lightless. A landmark building which had white ceramic brick and hundreds of light bulbs inset from the surface in patterns. The signs were no longer lit and the war went on and on.

After the war it was almost like a giant contest was on. Signs multiplied as if they were breeding back in the alleys. Little ones, big ones, vertical ones, horizontal ones. Neon, Zeon and signs that appeared to move due to the step relays that would turn the light bulbs on and off in sequence began once again to create the semblance of vibrant life down town.

But eyes and senses became overloaded and it was too, too much input to the brain in too short of a time whichever direction a person went. Finally people began to put pressure on reluctant authorities to ease the signage along our roads and even weed some out in town and later out of town too. Authorities were lobbied by the big sign companies and dawdled about before they did anything, but eventually the signs have become less grating on a person's senses. Still today there is visual clutter even yet which confuses one in a strange part of town.

But, part of the fun of going down town in my childhood was to see what was new on the big signs and to see the flickering lights going around and around the borders of some of them. To see new neon and zeon lights. It was especially fun to be down town at night when all the signs were lit and all the store fronts were lighted too.

One more little thing to file in my Remembery . . . . . . . . .

Blog