In my neighborhood.
And no, this has nothing to do with semiotics. Just signs, four signs.
Sign One. Pertinent to my rule that SmartCars absolutely must have apt license plates, on a stroll with my friend Melody we spotted a parked SmartCar that lives by my rule.
Its license plate: “SMARTY P.”
Sign Two. Heading off to my hardware store a few days ago, I walked through Verdi Square because, you know, trees and plantings, shade and other good things.
A few years ago, I volunteered to yank up ground roots from the small park spreading out from Verdi’s statue, as part of an enterprising movement to clean up and replant the place. It was very difficult; I lasted only two mornings — more because the mornings themselves were more difficult for me than the roots. Still, I have a tiny belongingness with Verdi Square, along with a lot of guilt because of those mere two mornings.
One item being removed from the park was the under-the-roots rat population; after the roots had been yanked, the rats were…sent to rodent heaven?
Then the park and other areas were replanted. They now look sort of like wild fields, although very very small. Maybe like a wild garden. Yes, that’s a better analogy.
When crossing the small Verdi Square plaza to 72nd Street where my hardware store lives, I noticed a sign on the wrought iron fence around the park. It read, “DON’T FEED ANIMALS.”
“Animals?” I thought. What animals? The rats were gone. What other animals shouldn’t be fed? And why? The short time it took me to get to the hardware store gave my imagination a light work-out. Maybe that small parkland (not actually square but roughly triangular) was a mini-zoo. I thought about the sort of animals which might occupy it; a few came to mind.
This is how I entertain myself.
Returning from the hardware store, I once again entered the plaza and…I learned what animals that sign was talking about because someone had acted in defiance! The entire plaza was covered with eager pigeons, pecking at whatever had been tossed out for them.
Sign Three. On West 73rd Street there’s a…I’m not sure what to call it? A beauty boutique? A skin salon?
A small sidewalk placard sits in front. On one side is a list of the salon’s offerings. On the other side it reads, “LIFE HAPPENS. BOTOX HELPS.”
Sign Four.
A few houses west of the botox emporium is my favorite sign. It is a poster, a very small white circle in the lower right corner of a large apartment window. Subtle, nuanced, but a massive punch.
Here is the sign:
, la