In a previous chapter, I had a dinky office downtown with a sign on the door
that said Les Overhead. Once in awhile, when feeling flush, I’d go out at lunch
and purchase street signs from homeless folks and other scrawling
down-and-outers trying to grow bread on the street.
I’d loiter around looking for a design
I fancied and go up and say,
hey I’ll give ya
twenty-five
cash right
now for that sign.
If asked why, I’d say
I was a collector. The common
reaction was a pause with a quizzical eye
wondering who the hell is this guy, then a quick,
internal cost/benefit analysis, followed by a response, “Sold.”
One time a woman demurred saying no, she wouldn’t have a sign
anymore if she sold it, and the spiky, spunky gent hunched next
to her piped up, “Shit girl, we can make a new one for like nothin’!
Just buy a pen.” I had a pen on me, but it was a good pen, a pen I liked a lot,
so I kept quiet. Besides, what they needed was a Sharpie. Several. In neon colors.
Grabbing eyeballs is what it’s all about. Any sharp marketer knows that.
Sure, I could just hand them the bread and let them keep the sign,
but I really did want to collect them, and I knew if I didn’t
I’d be less inclined to be charitable (let’s be honest).
In the back of my cluttered, ad-man mind
I’d stored the notion
of starting an
online gallery of
street signs, offering them
for sale with proceeds given to a
nonprofit. I already had a dozen or so and could acquire
more. But after my own internal analysis, I concluded
it would be a lotta work. Something I
shy away from, tend to avoid.
And so today they sit, the signs,
in the corner of my tiny
home office,
as current
and impassioned
and laughable as ever.
One says, The winds of poverty still blow.
Another says, Unemployed zombie hunter – anything helps.
Another, Bigfoot ate my dog, spare money 4 ammo.
And then, Hungrier than Jeffrey Dahmer.
Who doesn’t love bad taste done well?
Humor is a ticklish way to keep
trouble at bay,
for a while anyway.
Imagination helps. It can pop up
in places and people you least expect it.
But today, like yesterday, the winds of poverty still blow.
I need to get out and buy more signs.
And make one of my own for
my home office door,
Will write for food/beer (not a zombie).
Excellent words as always. Just a thought. The signs would make good greeting cards, proceeds to homeless charity?
witty as ever, TR