The Dismaying, Disturbing, or Distinctly Daft: Signage in Central Florida

After living in central Florida for almost 4 years, I have discovered a handful of things which strike me as being distinctly quirky, if not completely off the wall, about this place. For example:

1. Large pieces of mulch with antennae.
2. The fact that it’s usually colder in summer than winter--at least in malls, restaurants, houses of worship, and my bathroom.
3. The need in summertime to carry not only an umbrella, but also hip waders and possibly an inflatable raft for those afternoon monsoons.

And my personal favorite...

4. Tourists who use the carefully thought out strategy of stopping smack in the middle of a very busy road when they realize they’ve missed their turn.

Another noteworthy aspect of life here, if one has a sufficiently broad definition of the word “noteworthy”, is the abundance of random, hilarious and, occasionally, ill-conceived signs.  Because uploading photos I have already taken requires far less effort than actual writing, I thought I’d share some of my favorites with you.

Some signs appear to be intentionally goofy-- to get your attention, I suppose, and to make their point:

As a side note, I have found that this speed is surprisingly difficult to achieve…

mainly because I’ve never tried.

Good to know, Craftsman, because I had hoped to make this a family heirloom.

But would you please define “forever”?

And no one wants to clean up gator puke.

Other signs seem to be a half a bubble off plumb, making you wonder if what the sign says is what the sign maker actually intended to say:

This one should have the subtext:

“He’s not very nimble and our health coverage stinks, so please approach with care.”

Notice the decimal point. I still can’t decide if this is supposed to be better than being #1 ?

Because they drive the grocery bill up, and occasionally chew on the furniture.

Some are funny because of their juxtaposition:

I find this particularly disturbing.

Not my photo, but this still made me laugh.

(I never knew alligators had such a good grasp of spelling and grammar.)

Finally, with some signs, it’s all about the artwork:

Does this mean “No dancing”?

Or “No falling out of the ride vehicle”?

The good news about this sign is that it is far less dismaying close up

than when seen from the road as one drives past at 14 ½ miles per hour.

Your turn! Share some of your favorite signs. Memes, comic strips, and bumper stickers are out, unless they're unintentionally funny.

B-Fuzzled World News and Commentary: The Toilet Tech Fair

Because cable news is so completely and notoriously unreliable when it come to reporting on truly newsworthy material, today’s special edition of B-fuzzled World News and Commentary brings you up to date on the Toilet Tech Fair, held this past March in New Delhi, India. While the Elite Media Liberals wasted time and precious copy space covering whatever was supposedly “news” that day, millions of concerned citizens worldwide completely missed out on the latest developments on how to transform human waste into “profit-generating resources”. While I do not suggest deliberate misconduct on the part of the news outlets, I do feel that this information was willfully eliminated. 

Katy D., fearless and intrepid reporter for the Associated Press, tactfully and sensitively handled this inspiring event, which reporting I will expound, explicate, and elucidate. She writes: “Who would have expected a toilet to one day filter water, charge a cellphone or create charcoal to combat climate change? 

“These are lofty ambitions….Yet, scientists and toilet innovators around the world say these are exactly the sort of goals needed to improve global public health amid challenges such as poverty, water scarcity and urban growth.” 

[In the growing category of What Kind of Child Decides To Be A ______When She Grows Up, we now stack “Toilet Innovator” next to “People Who Name Paint Colors”.]

“Scientists who accepted the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation's challenge to reinvent the toilet showcased their inventions in the Indian capital Saturday. The primary goal: to sanitize waste, use minimal water or electricity, and produce a usable product at low cost.” 

[This choice of words was somewhat worrisome to me--to which usable product might they be referring?]

“India is by far the worst culprit [of poor sanitation], with more than 640 million people defecating in the open and producing a stunning 72,000 tons of human waste each day — the equivalent weight of almost 10 Eiffel Towers or 1,800 humpback whales.” 

[I would just like to pause a moment to let these facts and figures sink in. As usually happens when I read the news, I am left with a greater number of questions unanswered than answered: First, who is actually counting these people--another strong contender in the category of What Kind of Child Decides To Be A___________ When She Grows Up. Secondly, who is weighing and tracking the daily output of human waste? And third, seriously? Did you just compare the weight of mountains of dung to the Eiffel Tower, let alone humpback whales?]

“To be successful, scientists said, the designs being exhibited at Saturday's Toilet Fair had to go beyond treating urine and feces as undesirable waste, and recognize them as profit-generating resources for electricity, fertilizer or fuel.”

[I am reasonably confident that the lofty goals of “improving global public health amid challenges such as poverty, water scarcity and urban growth” just got flushed down the sewer.]

“The University of the West of England, Bristol, showcased a urine-powered fuel cell to charge cellphones overnight.

“Another team from the University of Colorado, Boulder, brought a system concentrating solar power through fiber optic cables to heat waste to about 300 degrees Celsius. Aside from killing pathogens, the process creates a charcoal-like product called biochar useful as cooking fuel or fertilizer.

[This seems another appropriate place to pause: Call it what you will, I have trouble imagining the family gathered around the backyard BBQ on Friday night, and Dad saying, “Jimmy! Go grab a bucket of biochar! It’s time for S’Mores."]

“A team from Beijing Sunnybreeze Technologies Inc. also brought a solar-biochar system, but with the solar panels heating air that will dry sludgy human waste into nuggets that are then heated further under low-oxygen conditions to create biochar.”

[Two important things to note here: One--Sunnybreeze is a very pleasant, if slightly misleading, name for a company that studies how to repackage poop into a profit-generating resource. Two--The use of the word “nuggets” in this sentence is incredibly ill-advised.]

“'Toilets are more common in [the southern Indian state of] Kerala than they are in much of the country, but no one wants to clean them', said Bincy Baby [I just need to interrupt at this point to say that this is an amazingly awesome name. Okay. Moving on:] of Eram Scientific Solutions.

'There is a stigma. [um. yes.] The lowest of the low are the ones who clean the toilets,’ Baby said. Eram's solution is a coin-operated eToilet with an electronic system that triggers an automated, self-cleaning mechanism. With 450 prototypes now looped into sewage systems across India, electrical engineers are lining up for jobs as toilet technicians. 'Now, they're proud of their jobs.'"

[I am speechless.]

In summary: 

1. A little creative branding goes a long way.

2. Why settle for “improving global public health amid challenges such as poverty, water scarcity and urban growth” when you can go for “profit-generating resources”?

3. At any given time, there must be a whole lot of third graders in this world with some rather peculiar career choices.

I Must Have Flunked Prom

In my opinion, certain aspects of adolescence need to remain in the realm of adolescents for their enjoyment alone. Acne, getting grounded, and minimum wage jobs all spring readily to mind. In a close second come certain time-honored traditions such as listening to Radio Disney, jumping off the roof of your home onto your trampoline, rear-ending your best friend’s family car with your family car less than a week of receiving your driver’s license, and/or long-boarding down steep hills at 35 miles per hour with no greater personal protection than your own sense of immortality. [As a side note: Please do not ask me how I know that his speed was 35 miles per hour--lying makes me somewhat uncomfortable.] Let teenagers be the ones who get to stay up all night finishing research papers, eat Chocolate Lucky Charms or Cookie Dough Pop Tarts for breakfast, and go to Dances. I did my time. I’m done.

The specter of ever having to relive the traditions or customs of youth looms larger than an 80s hairdo, so a recent conversation with my sister-in-law about her son’s upcoming wedding stirred up profound feelings of dismay, if not panic: 
Me: “We are looking forward to it!”
Charlotte: “Get your dancing shoes--DJ is booked!”
Me: “Only if they play the Chicken Dance.”
(It was the only thing that felt safe, other than perhaps the Hokey Pokey...or Ring Around the Rosie, which may not technically qualify as an actual dance, but at least I am fairly confident of the steps involved.)

Dancing in public? Oh man. I thought once a person was safely married they were no longer required to dance in public. Don’t misunderstand. When I was younger I believed, like every other narcissistic and delusional adolescent, that I was an awesome dancer. Not that I had any dreams of dancing on American Bandstand or Solid Gold, but that’s mostly because they were truly, truly stupid shows. In the past 25 + years, the closest I have come to actual dancing in public has been when I bob my head in time with whatever is playing between segments on NPR while I’m driving around town.  I guess I have Just Dance-d in my house with my kids, but  because I routinely lose on everything from “Lollipop” to “I Don’t Feel Like Dancing”, this does not do much for my morale and hence does not encourage the idea of cavorting around the dance floor. 

Fortunately, we are entering what is known in certain circles as “social-dancing season”, and the newspaper recently ran a very helpful article on this delicate subject. The author, Elizabeth Holmes, informs us that there are actual people living among us, who “seem right at home on the dance floor, whether because they are self-confident, uninhibited, or musical.” Self-confidence? Got it: I have been known to scamper down the driveway in my PJs when trying to catch the garbage truck. Uninhibited? Check: I often sing Sesame Street songs while scrubbing down my shower. Musical? Ha! My oldest son plays bass. Yet the idea of dancing in public still fills my heart with fear and trepidation. I think Ms. Holmes hits the nail on the head when she says that “the threat of public embarrassment looms large.” I’d rather be forced to sit through an entire episode of Solid Gold, eating Pop Tarts, than have to prance around in front of other people.

I say we leave dancing to teenagers. Heck, if they can survive things such as various and sundry forms of social rejection, grandmother kisses, and the random and untimely appearance of mega zits, surely they can shoulder the burden of public dancing for the rest of society. After making us endure endless hours of Aaron Carter, Miley Cyrus, and “High School Musical”, they owe us.