Signing On

        “Sign Sign everywhere a sign 


        Blocking out the scenery breaking my mind….”

       So it appears that I’m obsessed with signage now.

       I’ve been observing street signs the last couple of days, and I’m fascinated by the complete lack of creativity in the names. I know I live in a simple and straightforward town, but one would think that just a little vision would go into the naming of a complete road. After all, shouldn’t a sign that is branding an entire row of houses or businesses with a specific identify be a little more thorough in its label? Shouldn’t the people responsible for the letters that distinguish that location put at least a little thought into the legacy that specific street will hold? That sign, as little as it may be, possesses huge power and strength. That sign presides over the entire length of that thoroughfare, avenue or path. That sign gives you the high-sign every time you go by. That sign better be exceptional.

       But not in this reserved and careful town….

       Here, the streets are named in the manner of which you would expect them to be in a sleepy Podunk: “Wilderness Drive”, “Ranger Road”, “Sunset Drive” and even the ultra thoughtless and apparent “Center Street”. Yawn. No ingenuity can be found, and in fact, I would venture to say that there was complete laziness in the dedication of the streets here. I tried to find a name that made me reflect or question, but there was no sign of creativity anywhere. How great would it be to live on a drive named “Sex” or a path named “Psycho”…..?

       I’ve searched all over this place, and I could find nothing more original than “Hard Winter’s Lane”. Gee, one can only wonder what the winter was like that year…. And I’ve actually lived on a road named “Heck of a Hill”. Try to get the UPS people to deliver up there! It’s actually not that bad of a hill, but the name precedes any attempt to persuade the transport people of that fact.

       It gets better though. Our lack of creativity and sluggish sign dedication is not only evident in the naming of streets after wildflowers, dead founders and creeks: We have a lane named “Pizza Lane” right where -gasp- the pizza place is. What if the restaurant changes its menu? What if a Chinese place takes over the building? Can Confucius say confusion?!

       But the winner of the ultimate apathetic and unimaginative street name in this town has to go to… “No Name Street”. I had a doll named “No Name” once, but I was a terrible 2 years old, and I believe my decision to not name the thing was simply an act of contempt. In any case, I was certainly not responsible for characterizing a complete residential area.

       What were the people thinking? Or…not thinking. It was probably during the early 1900’s when violent range wars were customary, wolves were eating away at cattle herds, and entire crops were being lost to drought. There was no time to contemplate a frivolous sign! And in order to silence the street sign secretary, some petulant and cantankerous sheepherder probably just filled in the paper work writing “No Name” under ‘Street Address’. Then, to get back at him, the sign authorities mercilessly and maliciously went forward and actually named his street “No Name Street”, effectively slapping him in the face.  Must have been a sign of the times.  Wonder if he was the dead sheepherder found in the blatantly named Death Canyon?

      Ah – the sheepherder got me ruminating!

      Signing off.