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Its All About Seeing the Signs
Ace of Base hasn't seen the sign for quite some time now, but that doesn't stop the rest of us from doing so. In fact, on a regular basis, I see a lot of signs - and I don't like most of them. With that in mind, I thought I'd take this week's column to reveal a few examples: Caution: Children at Play: Why are we supposed to be cautioned of this - in case they need a steady quarterback? Or, am I interpreting this wrong entirely, and it turns out that all the children are at the theater, and this is some sort of propaganda to tell adults to go too? Either way, I think there needs to be some fine print underneath the warning, preferably written in crayon... Slow: Children at Play: For those who are unable to see colons, this sign poses an even bigger problem than the one above. If these kids are so slow, maybe they should be running laps instead of playing. That way their speed will no longer warrant the production of signs... Warning: Neighborhood Watch: What exactly is the neighborhood watching? Rather than discouraging crime, this sign encourages people to perform acts in the middle of the street, with the knowledge that there will always be an audience... No Parking Here to Corner: I'm tired of being told where I can't park. Instead, tell me where I can. Because of these signs, I now feel that I can park on a rooftop or in a treehouse, simply because there are no signs there... Falling Rock: I thought VH-1 was supposed to be our source for this... No Right Turn: If every turn is a wrong one, this makes driving virtually impossible. Society needs to be more positive, and - as all great historians have never said - that begins with sign making... Anything with the words "when children are present" underneath: This pretty much translates into "Ignore the above statement." Any picture of an animal: This typically means that the animal may be crossing the road, but this ruins the continuity of signs. If there is going to be a picture of a duck crossing, for example, then why not a picture of someone stopping or yielding? And besides, ducks crossing the road aren't funny anymore? unless they are stapled to the chicken, in which case - wow, talk about a laugh riot... But I digress. Greg Gagliardi is a teacher and writer. His stream-of-consciousness weekly humor column, "Progressive Revelations," has been ongoing since 1998. (http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com)
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"Garlic," he declared. "Garlic?" "Garlic. Now nobody can smell my bad breath, because all they smell is garlic," he beamed. "Garlic?" "Of course, there are some side effects," Bad Breath Bart noted. "For instance, my pet vampire has run away. And this afternoon I blew a kiss to my wife, and she slammed the door on my face." "Can I offer an alternative, Bart? Something that won't put your nose in a cast every time you get the irresistible urge to blow at your wife?" "Sure." "Try using some mouthwash with cetylpyridinium chloride in it. That always works for me." "Wow. That's a mouthful," Bad Breath Bart exclaimed. I was glad to have finally given Bad Breath Bart a mouthful that would actually help him cure his problem. I did not anticipate the call I would receive the very next evening. "Hey, Happy Guy. Thanks for the tip," Bad Breath Bart said. "That cetlip... cettap... centapyr... That unpronounceable mouthwash ingredient is superb." "Excellent!" I was thrilled that he had taken my advice and that it was working so well. "Yeah. It really tastes great," he continued. "Tastes great?" "You bet. And so filling, too." Suddenly I felt an ominous sensation closing in. "What do you mean by 'filling'?" "After taking that cetilp... cettep... certip... that unpronounceable concoction, I don't feel hungry anymore," he explained. "Bart, what did you put in that concoction?" "Oh, the usual ? ten scoops of ice cream, a cup or two of milk, a bag of chocolate chips, half a banana, some corn flakes, a wombat's ear and the juice out of the maraschino cherry jar," he responded. "But that won't stop your bad breath." "Oops. I also added that cetip... cetpe... certilp... that unpronounceable ingredient," he added. "It sure tasted good." Just then, my wife entered the room. "Honey, I just made you one of your favorite banana-strawberry milkshakes," she said with a smile. I looked at the glass she placed in my hand. I looked at it from the top. I looked at it from the bottom. I looked all around it. "What are you looking for," she asked. I knew she would not believe me. "Chocolate chips and corn flakes."
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