Sign of the Times?

This is the colorful, attractively-designed sign at the border station coming into Point Roberts. We all see it every time we cross that border, which is thousands of trips (cumulatively) per month. In fact, last month, the border crossing figures into Point Roberts were thus (with the October, 2007 comparison figures in parentheses):

Total Vehicles: 56,980 (58,673); Nexus Vehicles: 29,932 (16,299). The Nexus lane vehicles are a part of the ‘Total Vehicle’ numbers, but obviously there’s been a very big increase in Nexus lane crossings, even though overall crossing numbers have gone down slightly.

Now, back to that sign. At the border crossing there are, I believe, four lanes. The Nexus lane is #3; the sign in the picture is on the far side of lane #4. Which is to say that it is more visible from the Nexus lane than from the first two standard lanes. So those almost 30,000 vehicles that pass close by the sign every month have a very good view of it. Despite this fact and despite the fact that people in Point Roberts discuss the border on all social and business occasions, I have never heard anyone inquire or question or comment on this sign. At no time has anyone, to my knowledge, mentioned the parrot.

The sign orders us to declare fruits, vegetables, plants, and meats. It shows us, as examples of those categories, a tomato (perhaps), an orange/lemon/grapefruit, a philodendron, a ham, frankfurters/cocktail sausages, …..and a parrot. Surely not a fruit, a vegetable, or a plant. Surely not, well, …..I mean, What about the parrot?

Which Way Up?

B.C. Transit or B.C. Roads or whoever in the B.C. government is responsible for signage on the highways simply never fails to disappoint. The agency seems to have a relatively random policy for highway exits: sometimes the sign is before the exit, sometimes right after, so it is never quite clear where or when you should exit if you don’t already know how it works. Because the Olympics is coming to Vancouver in January of 2010, barely a year from now, there are lots of new roads with new signs, particularly in the area to the north and west that leads to Whistler where much of the snow-based competition will occur. Also in that area is the Horseshoe Bay Ferry Terminal, which is the place to go if you want to go to the Sunshine Coast and Roberts Creek. And indeed that is where we were heading today.

About a mile from the terminal, there was a standard rectangular metal road sign indicating that there was a new routing for the ferry terminal. Okay, that’s good. And then there was a sign that said something like ‘ferry terminal and village to the right,’ which is also good, and we went right. And then, not so good: there was one of those signs that change, using light bulbs or LED’s or something. It showed the words, ‘Ferry Terminal,’ followed by a new sign that showed a right-pointing arrow. Okay, but that was immediately followed by a new sign that said ‘Village,’ followed by a new sign that features a left-pointing arrow sign. So, logically, you get: Ferry, go right; Village, go left. But it says that logically only if you come in at the right moment. It can equally well say, ‘left-arrow, ferry terminal; right arrow, village.’ Four instructions, but since they are not numbered on the sign, they can be read as 1,2,3,4, or 4,1,2,3, or 2,3,4,1, or 3,4,1,2. You have two choices to go right to the ferry terminal and two to go left. Go, sign designers! So many more opportunities before January 2010.

Stick Figures in Peril

Point Roberts isn’t just an out of the way place with nothing in common with the rest of the world. We share, for example, an interest in tsunamis and their consequences with many others in this world. I don’t know that there’s been a tsunami in recorded history that significantly affected Point Roberts, but there was a tsunami on the West Coast back in 1964 that was generated by an Alaskan earthquake on Easter Sunday, an 8.4 on the Richter Scale. People died in Oregon and in California from that upswelling, so the tsunami concern is a realistic one for emergency planners on this coast.

On a more humorous note, however, I offer an impressive collection of stick figures in peril in the face of a tsunami. It is interesting to note the similarities and differences in these signs. Some, in Thai and/or Indonesian, speak to those country’s very recent experience with tsunamis, if not with stick figures. Others seem to suggest that the response to a tsunami is to move quickly to the right (indicated by the right-pointing arrow); yet others would have you climb the nearest cliff, preferably the one directly in front of you (with the wave directly behind you). Good advice all round, I’m sure. This advice compares favorably with that offered by our own stick figure in peril, seen several places around the Point, including South Beach Road off of APA Road, and Gulf Road in front of The Blue Heron, the source of my photo.

This site is but a tiny segment of the much larger ‘Stick Figures in Peril’ site. The iconography of many of these signs is fascinating, not least because I can’t even begin to imagine what the sign is supposed to be conveying. Don’t push people in wheelchairs into bodies of water wherein crocodiles reside? I would think not; surely that is not its meaning? Nevertheless, I have difficulties with all these signs, although they seem to be much beloved by the signage agencies of all governments. I understand that you can’t assume everybody who needs warnings will speak English (Oh, why not, she thought crankily?), but why would you assume that everyone understands pictographs? Better yet, where is the dictionary of pictographs for us to consult? Is this an international convention? Is the U.N. involved? Why does the tsunami wave look like a big saw blade? Why are the tsunami signs for Point Roberts so much like the ones for Indonesia, except for language, which is supposed to be unneeded because of the pictograph? Ought these pictographs not be culture specific? Or is this to be the final evidence of ‘it’s a small world after all’ (at least if you leave out words).

Because we have a lot of deer around, both here and on the Sunshine Coast, we frequently get signs that feature pictographs of prancing/jumping deer along the roads. (Stick animals in peril?) Are we to assume that these are warnings, specifically, ‘Don’t run into a jumping deer’? Or just information: ‘Hey, watch the jumping deer on this road!’ In any case, although I’ve seen deer in both places, including near the road, I’ve never seen one prancing or jumping. Just another misleading sign, I’m obliged to conclude. Or maybe uncooperative deer.

A Banana for Manitoba

Is this just a North American story or is the rest of the world equally prone to such strange ideas?

A Canadian friend came to dinner last night and told us of her recent adventures with the CBC. She, a well-known performance artist, had heard on a CBC radio news program that some citizens of the very small town of Melita, Manitoba, were contemplating a bold new step for the town, a move sure to whip up Melita’s small economic base by flooding the town with tourists. Melita is referred to (by whom I do not know) as ‘Manitoba’s Banana Belt’—a phrase that must have most of its truth in a commitment to irony, since no one in Manitoba is going to be growing bananas very soon unless global warming truly has astonishing consequences.

But nevertheless, there you have it. The champions of Melita wish to build a 30-foot statue of a talking, revolving banana as a way of encouraging the tourist industry that is, apparently, currently lacking. Our friend, who happens to have a large collection of banana objects and information as well as a banana production company , called the CBC to suggest that Melita needed more than a revolving, talking banana because surely, when the tourists poured into town, they would be looking for more information about bananas. So she offered them her banana collection on the condition that they build a Banana Museum to accompany the talking, revolving banana. Her offer was subsequently broadcast by the CBC.

So far, the town’s members have apparently not enthusiastically endorsed the actual building of either the banana or the museum, but if they go ahead, they are not alone in this line of work. One of my own particular favorites is the world’s largest artichoke, in Castroville, California, the World's Artichoke Capitol. Although I would probably not go out of my way to see either fields of artichokes or the world’s largest (30-feet or so) artichoke, I would definitely go there to eat the deep-fried artichokes that are sold inside that artichoke.

So maybe Melita ought to consider, right inside that museum door, the sale of, say, deep-fried bananas, coated in chocolate, with a little ice cream on the side. In the winter, when there are probably no tourists anyway, they could drop the ice cream.

There’s way more of this stuff than you might think. Interested in seeing the world’s largest pysanki Easter egg in Vegreville, Alberta? Or maybe several hundred other Canadian contributions to large roadside signs, photographed by an intrepid collector.

Or how about a variety of U.S. offerings, such as the world’s largest ear of corn, chest of drawers, chair, tire, talking loon, and floating loon? All available when you are next driving around with nothing else to do and plenty of $4-$6/gallon gasoline to take you there.