here’s your sign
As I was headed across the country on a roadtrip last week, I saw a sign on a Louisiana bridge that said “Do not cross double yellow line.” I started thinking, hey, this is a one-lane-each-way bridge. If somebody was dumb enough to drive into oncoming traffic, then the sign probably wouldn’t help. It’s not like somebody has considered crossing the double yellow line to the other side, saw the sign and then thought, “What the… ?!? Thank goodness that sign was there! I was going to do that!”
As I looked around at the new signs in each state, I was stunned at the sheer volume of signage. So then when I got back to Texas, I had a fresh perspective on the amazing multitude of things we’re expected to read while driving. It is freaky how many there are. If you were to actually look at each sign, there wouldn’t be any time left to make sure your car is still facing the right direction with no children or adorable animals in front of it.
I realized that if the landscape is littered with signs every 10 feet, they lose their effectiveness and we just don’t notice them anymore — the same way you don’t feel a shirt after you’ve worn it for a few minutes. The signs are just part of the scenery now, so I really only notice them when I whack one with my head while bicycling or when an officer points out some silly rule that I missed, like no driving 70 mph in a school zone.
I’ll concede that some signs are necessary, like street names to find directions. Or signs that show very specific information. A stop sign is a good example – it has a simple message: Hey you — this is the specific spot where you are supposed to stop your vehicle, or at least slow down to a crawl and look for cops before continuing.
Another good sign with information we need to know would be “The goats on this cliffside are kinda clumsy and tend to leave a huge dent. Try to swerve around them if you see one plummeting.” I might put up one of those just to see drivers looking up.
Another observation from my roadtrip was that the signs take all kinds of crazy grammar license. The sign that said “No Driving On Shoulder” in Mississippi had plenty of room to say “No Driving On The Shoulder.” But instead, they chopped up the command, using a sentence structure we don’t regularly use.
“No Driving On Shoulder. Me Tarzan, You Jane. Ooga Booga..”
Of course I understand the need to keep the signs short, or they’d be gigantic. The “Fines Double When Workers Present” sign doesn’t sound very good when spoken aloud. (Try to slip that one in casual conversation today.) But it would go too far to say “Hello there, Mister or Missus Driver. I hope you remember to obey traffic laws today, because if there are any workers out here, the police officer hiding behind this sign will give you a ticket with super nasty little fine. You sexy thing.” That sign would be 17 feet wide.
I saw a sign in Florida that said “Obey Posted Traffic Speeds.” C’mon, Florida. Was that worth posting? If somebody is going to speed, that little reminder isn’t going to change their mind. But this got me thinking about general-purpose signs… we could replace all these silly signs every 10 feet with one all-encompassing sign, something that reminds us every once in a while to remember the traffic rules and try to avoid killing each other. I considered “Try Not To Drive Like Your Grandmother” or “Don’t Hit Anybody With Your Vehicle Today” or “Feel Free To Honk At Any Drivers You See Not Doing What You Want Them To,” but those were all too long.
But then I found it, the perfect sign. We should take down all the unimportant signs and replace them with this one simple, encouraging message.
“Be Good.”