Last summer my son, who was visiting from New York, and I were driving around our lovely village, heading to the wharf for ice cream. He was driving. Suddenly a police car appeared in the mirror, waving him over to the side of the street. We had no idea why.
We had just left my house, which is not far from the intersection we had just passed through, so he was not speeding.
The officer, who was very nice, said my son had failed to make a full stop at a stop sign. (I believe that is called a “rolling stop” in police jargon.) I’d argue that my son did stop, even though there were clear sightlines and no pedestrians in the area. Nevertheless, he didn’t argue the point. I taught my son never to argue with law enforcement, especially when they are wearing a weapon.
The officer had a sense of humor. When I offered that in the 60-plus years since I got my driver’s license, I have driven around the village a thousand times and never once rolled through a stop sign (I lied), he laughed. My son frowned. He gave us a warning and left. He was a good guy.
Ever since I have been thinking about signs. Without them life would be chaos. Signs are everywhere and for good reasons. I even have a sign on my front-light post with our name on it. I wouldn’t want to come home late at night and go to the wrong house.
The current resident of the Peoples’ House in Washington and I are the same age. He may have realized, as have I, that our memory fails us from time to time. That may be why he has been placing signs throughout the White House. He placed a sign outside the Oval Office saying, “The Oval Office.” It is written in classy gold script. I assume it is so he can tell the difference from the other rooms in the building which are rectangle.
There is a new sign as you enter the Cabinet Room, identifying it as the “Cabinet Room.” He wouldn’t tolerate any cabinet member complaining about getting lost and missing a meeting. A new sign designates the old Rose Garden as the “Rose Garden Club” with its round tables and yellow umbrellas. It is surely destined to become the official national resort. There are no roses there anymore, but the name is historic, so he kept it.
There is a new gold lettered sign leading to the West Wing, but the one for the East Wing was discarded. It is no longer needed. There is even a sign on the Truman Balcony advising visitors not to look up at the sun during an eclipse. (Not true, I made that up.)
Anyway, I’m beginning to think putting signs everywhere in the house is a good idea. I have been thinking of doing the same in our house. You know how car mirrors say, “Objects appear smaller in the mirror.” I’ll place one on our bathroom mirror saying, “Bodies appears smaller in this mirror.” One can always start the day with a little reminder before breakfast. I don’t see well without my glasses so a large sign hanging in the shower will warn ‘Slippery when wet.’”
The kitchen will have a number of important warning signs. “Toaster, beware flying objects.” Another will say, “Trigger Warning! Trashcan, unpleasant smells.” There will be one on the refrigerator: “STOP, objects inside have dangerous calories and may cause weight gain.” Oh, and “DO NOT ENTER WHEN WIFE IS COOKING!” That one will definitely be all caps!
I’ll be sure to have a sign on my recliner warning that reading books may (will) cause drowsiness. Also, I’ll tie one on the dog’s collar warning, “Beware tripping hazard.” That one will be glow-in-the dark for when he is sleeping by the bathroom door in the middle of the night.
All the others will be printed in classy gold script lettering.
Mattapoisett resident Dick Morgado is an artist and happily retired writer. His newspaper columns appeared for many years in daily newspapers around Boston.
By Dick Morgado