small things, part two

Well, today I want to complain about road signs. That's right.

Since I grew up in what was once rural Alabama (but is now a commercial haven just like every other growing part of America), I remember roads with no (or very few) signs. I lived almost two miles down a road which we called Buzbee because it ended at a large plot of land owned by people of that name, but nowhere was this road marked by a sign that labeled it. There was one sign at the turn off from the highway that marked it as a county road number, but no Buzbee Road signs existed.

When giving people directions to my childhood home, we started with the county road sign, and then every other instruction was based on landmarks: take the first left, go around the big curve, or 3rd mailbox on the right.

Yesterday, as I returned home from yoga, I noticed that our roads are now littered with signs. I know that we need speed limit, street names, and maybe even some of the directional advice (turn right for Cumming, turn left for Alpharetta). But that's not even the half of it. Every traffic signal is marked by a caution sign telling you that the traffic signal is coming up. There are signs to warn us that the road is about to turn left or right, go up or down. Signs tell us who is picking up the trash on that particular mile of roadway. Signs to let us know which animals cross that road, that rocks fall onto the road sometimes, or that fog sometimes floats across the road. Signs warn us of road work, tell us when the road work ended, and advise us that road work will begin next week (or next month). Signs tell us how many dollars are being spent working on this road and who pays for it.

But it is even more crazy than that. In my neighborhood, we have signs congratulating the graduates of 2007 (thank you very much). Signs in yards advertising children as valedictorian, yard of the month, honor roll students, landscaping improvements by XXX company, and even this house was for sale but we (company ZZZ) sold it.

Interstate signs now tell us which restaurants operate at which exits. Large signs in Atlanta let drivers know when wrecks, traffic, or crime is occurring. Alternate routes are sometimes suggested. I won't even go into billboards.

Here's what caught my attention: In an effort to see what I might be able to sell my house for, I did an online search for houses in my neighborhood which are on the market . I found that the house next to me is for sale, and they DON'T have a sign in their yard. I was shocked. I thought, "How could you sell your house without a for sale sign?" Then I realized: even without the sign, the house could be bought and sold. Even without the signs, streets have names, directions exist, traffic signals work, and construction is performed.

Why have we littered our landscapes with all of these signs?

The signs, after all, are only markers. And, I think, they are unattractive and, at this point, too numerous.