Tag Archives: silly signs

Directionless

Polls show that many of us feel adrift and directionless. I sometimes share that feeling, especially when I see signs like the ones in this post. The first one stands in a narrow opening between the Great Hall and the Egyptian wing of the Met:

Who knew Jean-Paul Sartre made signs for museums?

Here’s a puzzle for motorists:

It may not be evident in the photo, but it should be to motorists, that directly behind these signs is Lake Wallenpaupack. Do drivers really have to be told to turn instead of plunge?

In the same vein:

If you overthink it — my specialty, by the way — the sign asks you to be in two places at the same time. Modern life often demands multitasking, but this is a whole other ballgame, one you can’t win.

You can’t win this one, either:

These two signs stand in front of the United Nations. I spotted them a few years ago and have checked periodically to see whether an attack of sanity broke out and someone took at least one of the signs down. So far, motorists are still being told to do the impossible.

As are we all. It seems to me that what really unites nations is this: nobody knows where to go, how to get there, and when to stop. Who knew street signs mirrored life?

The Favor of a Reply Is Requested

I have a few questions for you, starting with your thoughts on this advertisement for cigarettes:

Is this company trying to corner the health-food market? Organic says yes, but tobacco seems to undercut that message.

I gnashed my teeth when I read this label on a bottle of mouthwash:

What does less intense enamel taste like? Does the enamel on your teeth have any taste at all? I don’t think mine does.

I’ve held onto this photo for a long time — not for an entire historic era, but for a year or so:

Does climbing or descending these steps change history, altering the timeline or plunging the world into a different branch of the multiverse? Maybe the steps have fallen into disrepair and the homeowner is using historic as a get-out-of-being-sued excuse? Attention, attorneys: Would this hold up in court if someone did sue?

Now to a Seattle parking area:

Is the sign on the right intended to help firefighters? Somehow I thought they were supposed to notice things like hydrants without assistance from signage. Maybe some drivers back out without looking. If so, is there a way to revise the driving test to exclude them? I’m really hoping the answer to that last question is yes.

I also eagerly await your theories.

Expensive Words

Every trip to the store reminds me that inflation isn’t just for balloons. I don’t pretend to understand the economic forces involved, but I do know some things that inflate the cost of food. Here’s one:

General rule: If you double the P in “shop,” you double the price. Which is understandable, because it’s expensive to import food from the 16th century.

Another general rule is “fancy language equals fancy prices,” especially when the words are associated with Britain:

“Made to order” isn’t cheap, but it is cheaper than “bespoke.” I would deduct 10% from the price for misspelling “disappoint,” however.

A variation of the fancy language rule sets higher prices to anything described by a three-syllable word that most people have to look up in a dictionary:

A “distributor” can’t charge as much as a “purveyor.” Oh, and “chefs” pay more than “cooks.”

To sum up: If you’re on a tight budget, stay away from shoppes that are purveyors of bespoke fruit baskets.

Geographically Challenged

Does anyone study geography these days? Judging from the photos below, no. Or maybe the world has simply gotten a lot more interconnected than it used to be.

First up is a package my friend Priscilla spotted in an iconic New York City grocery store:

Perhaps the label should read “Produit du PĂ©rou.”

Moving on: This poster advertises French Fries (no surprise there, except for the capital letters), along with Poland Water and Chicken Tundra.

I did a little research and confirmed what I suspected: Poland does indeed have water and probably can spare some small bottles. However, places classified as tundra generally aren’t associated with chicken coops. I mean, arctic chickens? Someday, maybe, if the climate continues to warm. (Don’t ask me about Tune Melt. I can’t deal with defrosted music today.)

This menu item features an ingredient from France by way of Voltaire:

I like my ginger candide, don’t you? I just hope it hasn’t been sitting in the cupboard since the Enlightenment.

By the way, the subtitle of Voltaire’s novel Candide is The Optimist. Let’s hang onto that and pretend that the world — and its geography — will sort itself out someday.

Logic-Challenged

It’s almost August, which is as good an excuse as any for why logic has exited through some sort of universal escape hatch and left us in a complete muddle.

Speaking of the universe, my friend Constance alerted me to this headline:

Science fiction multi-verses aside, logic dictates that “the universe,” by definition, encompasses everything, and therefore everything has to be in it. Or, as Constance notes in her email: Where else would a galaxy be? In a closet? In my backyard?

Next are some dividers I spotted while shopping for a greeting-card:

Shouldn’t the photo on the right read “for anyone who’s not funny?”

Now turn your attention to the back of my son’s car:

To any mathematician reading this: I’d appreciate your explaining what “partial zero” amounts to.

Moving on:

How can Paper House have a “New Home” if it’s been there “Since 1976”? What’s the time frame for becoming an “old home”?

Fingers crossed that Covid-variant outbreaks will soon give way to an outbreak of rationality, just for a change of pace. In the meantime, stay cool and, if at all possible, logical.

Apostrophes, Sigh

What is it with apostrophes? They show up when they aren’t needed and go AWOL when they are. Here’s an example from the first category, in a blurry photo I snapped from a moving car:

Unless the HOUSES & LAND belong to a man named JOHN BUY, this apostrophe interrupts a perfectly good verb.

Another unnecessary apostrophe, in the plural noun Mondays:

Whoever made this sign tried a tactic I’ve often seen students employ: miniaturizing the punctuation mark. The student hopes that if the word needs an apostrophe, the teacher will see one, and if it doesn’t, the teacher will see an untidy smudge. I should note that hedging a punctuation bet this way never works, in class or in signs.

Now for the AWOL Department. This sign, in an elevator serviced by a major airline that should know better, lacks an apostrophe:

There are more problems with this sign than writing FIREMANS instead of FIREMAN’S. First of all, I sincerely hope that more than one person would respond to a blaze in an airport. A blaze anywhere, for that matter! Thus I have a problem with FIREMAN, a singular noun. Second, the sign has a gender problem. If I were a FIREFIGHTER (a more accurate and inclusive term), I’d be tempted to thwack this sign with my extinguisher and put a dent in FIREMANS.

This one is in a category all by itself:

I wonder what sort of goals a numeral can have. Does 1 aspire to become 2? Aim for 10? Perhaps 1 aspires to a fancier font?

Maybe there’s a 1 somewhere in the world striving to curtail gun violence. I can get behind that last goal, for sure, and you probably can, too. If only the shop displaying this sign could help us refine that goal and create an action plan. That would undoubtedly be in EVERY 1’S best interest.

Animation

Disney isn’t the only company infusing life into inanimate objects. (Did you know that inanimate used to be a verb meaning “to infuse life”? Now it’s an adjective meaning “without life.” Curious how language works.) As these signs illustrate, anyone can animate an object, though the results are somewhat unpredictable.

First up is a sign my friend Catherine spotted:

I wonder whether the dresses stride or billow out. Also, when the dresses . . . come out of the fitting room, are there people in them? If not, what happens to the people in the fitting room when their dresses . . . come out? Note to self: shop at this store only while wearing pants.

I usually remove a brand name to avoid embarrassing the business responsible for unintentional hilarity, but Heinz should know better. Take a look at this label:

Heinz Ketchup is grown, not made? Really? Is there a plant with little ketchup bottles on it? Do they start out as one ouncers and reach maturity at, say, a quart?

This last sign doesn’t animate the apartments it references, but I hope it animates those who are delivering the 2 – 4 BRs. They’ll need to step lively:

How much does an average bedroom weigh? How large a vehicle do you need to deliver 2 – 4 of them? Does from $3.4M include postage? Inquiring minds want to know.

You’ll have to excuse me now. I’m off to fill Gertrude (my kettle) and put her on Ronald (my stove). If I’m going to be animated enough to get something done today, I need a cup of Joe.

Surprise!

When I snap photos of signs, I am frequently amused and often puzzled. Seldom am I surprised, but occasionally . . . well, take a look.

I saw this sign at a construction site in Seattle, where on average it rains 149 days a year and where the news media keep headlines like “Heavy Rains Bring Floods” ready to roll:

Even though Seattle has not escaped climate change (no place has), it’s still startling to think that someone needs to rent rain there. Also, quick question: if you rent rain, how do you return it when the lease is up?

This sign left me dumbfounded:

There may be a connection between preschool children and beloved dog/dogs, but I’m not seeing it. Thoughts, anyone?

Bureaucracies are generally boring, but Seattle’s Department of Construction delivered this surprise:

I don’t know about you, but I still don’t have an answer to the question What is it? Whatever it may be, don’t look there for units or parking.

Last one, courtesy of my friend Barry:

I can understand banning smoking, but poets? True, the average poet makes, as Calvin Trillin once remarked, “in the high two figures,” but that situation would seem to be covered by an income minimum, not an art form. Maybe someone walked out of English class with Post Traumatic Sonnet Disorder?

If you run across any surprising signs, please feel free to let me know.

Got That?

In this blog I often call attention to signs that omit essential information, thereby forcing readers to guess the intended meaning. These beauties have the opposite problem: desperate to be clear, they overexplain and complicate what should be a simple message. Here’s one I saw taped to a salon door:

I considered having my hair cut, but I couldn’t figure out how to get inside.

Here’s another sign, courtesy of my friend Don:

Note to potential customers: count heads before you enter this establishment. If it’s two, you’re fine, because that’s fewer than FIVE (3). If it’s three or four, enter at your own risk, because you’re in the gray area between the spelled-out number FIVE and the numeral (3). If there are five customers present, try again later, perhaps after snacking at this fast-food restaurant (photo supplied by my friend Jesse):

I don’t mind splitting a burger, but I do mind splitting myself to order a burger. I prefer to use just one lane, not both, when I’m selecting a meal.

As a belated celebration of Valentine’s Day, I can’t resist including this sign:

I get what the sign is saying. What baffles me is the intended market. Are there enough couples wandering around Manhattan, wondering how to elope? How many walk-ins does this store get? My guess: FIVE (3) a year.

Proof

The signs in this post are proof (noun) that you should always proof (verb) your writing. If you don’t, well, read on to see some possible consequences.

My friend Barry sent me this headline:

Oh, the irony! Also the confusion, because the Spelling Bee might be on Thursday if the letter h went astray or on Tuesday if the letter r was mistakenly inserted in place of an e. Perhaps this year’s champ can be enlisted to proofread next year’s notice.

Also sent by Barry is this portion of a law proposed by state legislators:

The politicians crafting this sentence telling teachers how to teach should have spent a little more time on their own homework. Then perhaps they’d know that the word they were looking for is tenets, not tenants. Again, the irony.

This one, which my friend Mary sent, is fun:

I don’t own a car, but if I did, I’d certainly obey this sign and DRIVE WITH CAKE.

Last but not least:

Perhaps the council snatched an r from the Spelling Bee headline and grabbed an extra e from somewhere else?

The point of all these examples: rememberer two proffread!