Unbagging the Cats 1

Unbagging the Cats 1

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

A Very Bad Sign

We are having an issue here in Backroads. None of those face-eating, lung-on-the-street, vampire-biting problems of the urban areas. And by the way, mainstream media, stop trying to make the zombie thing happen. You are as sad as Bad Girl Gretchen Wieners trying to make "fetch" happen. It ain't gonna.

No, the issue here in Backroads is not bloody body parts. It is a matter of road signs.

The first problem on my radar was the stop sign at the end of our blacktop county road, right where it abuts the lettered county highway. For many months, there has been daylight showing through our sign. Bullet holes. That in itself is not significant. Firearms are common in this neck of the woods. The part that concerns me is the direction of that bent metal blown out by the bullets. The shooter has to be situated in a straight line, shooting across a little curve, towards that lettered highway. Trees and a rock bluff block the shooter's view. He could be firing right into a moving vehicle. Not smart, state property vandalizer!

We were up to six bullet holes in our stop sign. But this morning, it was completely gone. Vanished! A metal pole holding nothing. A stick without its lollipop. I, myself, have the common sense to stop and look before pulling out into traffic. But you can bet there's an idiot missing from some village who will not stop just so he can say in the event of an accident, "But there was no stop sign. I didn't break any laws. In fact, I think the state should pay me for the rest of my life because my pinky toe was ripped off in that fiery crash I caused with a school bus."

The second problem was an orange flexible BUMP sign placed before our long bridge over a river twenty feet below. Work was started on that bridge when school let out. The whole surface was scraped. Now it's groovy. Slippery when wet. Little traction. Still waiting for a re-surfacing. The BUMP sign warns folks that they are going to be jarred as they drive onto the bridge. Or not. Because some wacky prankster put that sign on the other side of the road Sunday night. So Monday morning, I was warned that on my way into town, I was going to feel a BUMP. But I knew better. The BUMP had been returned to its rightful place this morning.

And the third problem was, again, a stop sign. This one was on a little blacktop island between a McDonald's, a Walmart drive, and a road in front of a mini mall. Somebody rammed that one good. Because this morning, the metal pole was down, still imbedded in the blacktop triangle, which looked like a mass of turned-up tree roots. And the stop sign itself was completely gone. Vanished! I'm sensing a pattern here with the stop signs.

Is somebody tired of shooting at Styrofoam deer? Not enough gas money to drive to where the stop signs are? Some kind of freaky hayseed gang initiation? Years ago, there was a problem with flags. They kept disappearing. Then police made a connection to young men stealing them for some manner of advertising their sexual prowess. Old Glory!

Climb into your handbaskets, people. But be sure to look both ways before proceeding to not-heaven.


Sioux's Page said...

Okay, if battling these poles to remove the flags proves they are "top dogs," sexually, what does removing the stop signs tell us?

We don't have that problem in the big city. We've made the "St. Louis Stop" famous, so we just ignore those pesky red signs.

Tammy said...

I'm still laughing over your first paragraph. I live on a corner with a stop sign. Every now and then I hear a loud crash and know the stop sign's been taken out again.

Leenie said...

Are you SURE the zombies have nothing to do with the sign problem? Auto accidents would make easy pickings for body parts. I say keep your chain saw with you--chain sharpened and oiled--just in case.

Stephen Hayes said...

Guys who want to prove their masculine prowess should join the Army and leave signs alone. Just saying....

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Nobody obeys my stop signs. This annoys me greatly and I will take every opportunity to make the person look like an idiot as I patiently explain why I want them to stop, lest they hit a child on a bicycle. I can make this speech last as long as I want depending on my mood. I suppose I am a teacher at heart ....

Linda O'Connell said...

I used to work in the deep innercity where nobody obeyed stop signs. You took your life into your own hands if you didn't look both ways and back again.

Male prowess? Something wrong with them.

Val said...

I don't understand the stop sign attraction. It's not like they can wear it on a chain to highlight their overalls and sleeveless shirt ensemble.

At least you don't hear gunshots taking out the stop sign.

You've got a point there. It could be a zombie conspiracy. That plan is SO "fetch."

Maybe we need Uncle Sam's face and pointy finger in the middle of those stop signs.

Indeed. Teacher tactics are great for shaming.

In the city, I'm surprised they're not being stolen to be sold for scrap. When Hick worked in the city, his company's gutters were stolen off the building. Even though the fence surrounding it was topped with razor wire. I guess he's lucky they left the razor wire.