Tag Archives: NYC signs

For the Birds

Although a number of pet birds have flown around my living room through the years, I tend to divide avian wildlife in New York City into two categories, as this sign does:

Why single out pigeons? Here’s my theory: if you have one or two pigeons, they’re beautiful — a feathered palette of grays and whites with touches of black. But that’s never what you actually have. You have a flock, a megaflock, many megaflocks! You have a pigeony exponential growth-curve akin to the one Covid-19 has, unfortunately, made us all too familiar with.

Pigeons also make an appearance in this sign, which a reader spotted in a park:

The reader remarked that she “would have thought NYC already had plenty of these without anyone having to breed more.” I join her in rejecting this imperative sentence.

Still another pigeon, because, as I said, you really can’t have just one:

You can read this sign two ways. (1) You’re not required to feed a pigeon and clean-up, but doing so would be nice. (2) You’re not supposed to feed the pigeon, but you’re going to do it anyway, so could you please remove the inevitable end product? It’s the law. Which surprises me. I know there are all sorts of laws about snow removal — how much time may elapse after the last flake falls before you must shovel a path for pedestrians, for example. Is there also a time limit on poop? Do you have to sit around staring at the pigeon you’ve just (illegally) fed, so you can scoop the end product? Asking for a friend.

That’s it for pigeons, you’ll be glad to know. But not for birds. Below is one of the first signs I spotted when I started this blog:

Then, as now, I smiled to think of how you would sit . . . birds. Bend their little legs? Offer a chair? I’ll leave you with that image, hoping it cheers you, and any pigeons you’ve befriended.

The Pandemic in Signs

Most of the signs I glimpse in NYC these days are too sad to post. The hopeful “reopening March 20th” placards depress me now, in mid-May, because the shops they’re tacked on remain closed, some perhaps permanently. Nor do I like reading “closed until further notice” notices. I know that already. I just don’t know much further the “further” will be.

So I’m relying on my archives to map my pandemic experience. First, what I began to hear (but not really absorb) in late January:

Diagnosing the path ahead.

Soon I realized the trajectory life was taking:

Lots of do-It-yourself and a fair amount of storage (including toilet paper). Much moving away from the city, but not — and never — for me.

Instructions and predictions from authorities resembled, and continue to resemble, this:

and this:

There is no silver lining to this pandemic, but it has made me understand how, in these tough times, and also in good times,

What’s inside? If you’re fortunate, love and resilience.

Take care of yourself, take care of others, and stay safe.

A Dose of Silliness

With all that’s going on, it’s time for a little silliness. New York City sign-writers are happy to oblige, albeit unknowingly. Here’s one from a coffee shop:

The right side is blurred because of the coat-to-chalk effect, so I’ll retype the message here: “Not only was Aretha Franklin the first woman to be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, she was the first woman, period.” One question: Did Adam give her R-E-S-P-E-C-T?

Onward, to an art store:

I’m not “prude” either, but I am a grammarian, and my preference for “prudish” is not “just highly selective.”

Last, an all-too-accurate sign:

We are indeed in a “mean time.” Things will eventually improve, but in the meantime, laugh as much as you can. Then wash your hands.

Nutritional Information Needed

It’s hard enough these days to know what to eat and drink. There are Keto, Paleo, and for all I know Beto diets. Nor do these signs don’t make the situation easier. In fact, they give rise to questions, which I pose here after each.

How many Arancini could Could Cuts cut if Could Cuts could cut Arancini?

What does a social taste like? And is tasting a social really an event?

Relying on sound, not spelling: Do letter carriers bring Poast Pork to your table?

It’s possible to pay for wine with an I.D? Alternate question: does wine carry its I.D. in a wallet?

Do diners with extra-strong teeth chew plates fresh from the kiln? Also, is there a worldwide shortage of hyphens?

Feel free to answer my questions, or pose your own.

Please Explain

Every once in a while — okay, every day — I find a sign that puzzles me. I like puzzles, mostly, but I also like answers. With that in mind, I’m posting four signs, hoping readers will enlighten me. First up:

Does this mean it’s okay to garbage somewhere else?

Another question for another sign-maker:

My first theory about this sign: a “pre-action” is a thought. But then I realized that thinking is itself an action. That put me in chicken-egg territory, wondering which came first, the pre-action or the thought about the pre-action. What do you think? (And while you’re thinking, are you pre-acting?)

One from a beauty salon:

Is there an analog perm? If I go digital, will I have fingers in my hair, and if so, whose?

Last query:

Is there an epidemic of cave-ins caused by sloppy posture? Or is “Do Not Lean” just mean? I’m leaning (pun intended) toward answering yes to the second question and no to the first, but I’m willing to be convinced otherwise.

Explanations welcome.

Rapid Response Team

Some signs call for lengthy analysis, and others merit no more than a rapid response. Here are a few particularly odd signs that fall into the second category. From a tech store:

Okay, fine. Can we start by fixing the apostrophe that should appear in the first word of the sign? Then maybe move on to the pronoun-agreement issue (“tablets and phones” and “it”)?

From a department store:

Where, exactly are the little guys being cleared to? I’m not asking why, because as an experienced mother, grandmother, and teacher, I already know that an occasional, short “clearance” of kids is appealing.

Before I move on, I’ll share one thought. Wouldn’t it be nice to imagine the apostrophes missing from the first two signs are having lunch together? And speaking of lunch . . .

Is there anyone who prefers an uncracked egg? Or an egg that cracked a couple of weeks ago but is only now hitting the bagel?

One more mystery:

If it’s a “NO BUTTS BIN,” are you supposed to put the butt in or keep it out? Or — and I prefer this answer — not have a butt at all? And what’s that squiggly mess on the left side? (I saw it up close, and it wasn’t any clearer in person than it is in the photo.)

Please feel free to send in answers to these questions. And if you find two stray apostrophes, tell them to come home to their signs.

Speling Is a Lost Airt

I don’t normally bother to point out spelling errors in New York City signs, but every once in a while I can’t help myself. Why would someone have a sign professionally printed without running it through spell-check? I admit that spell-check is far from perfect, but still. A glance would have been enough to save this sign from over-consonance:

It would be nice to think that the sign-maker chose “dinning” to emphasize noise-level issues. I’ve often drowned a scarf in sauce while leaning over the table to catch one or two syllables. The background music and the shouts of other diners (dinners?) can be deafening! Alas, I don’t think that was the intention. On the plus side, the hyphens in “off-the-beaten-path” are correct.

Another instance of over-consonance:

When I saw this sign I immediately thought of Nagini, Voldemort’s pet snake. Read it aloud and listen for the hiss in “occassions.” I assume the sign-maker speaks Parseltongue, the snake language of the Harry Potter series.

The consonants are fine in this one, but not the vowels. The sign does, however, accurately reflect the feeling New York’s construction inspires in those of us navigating the city’s sidewalks:

If you’re overwhelmed after exiting the walkway, perhaps you’ll consider dinning out, with a sheet cake to mark the occassion.

Where?

I don’t allow my phone to broadcast where it is and therefore where I am, because I enjoy whatever shred of privacy I can wring from modern life. I do wish, though, that some signs gave better information about location. For example, imagine you’re driving and come upon this sign:

Bay?

A bay can be a coastal indentation that boats bob around in. It can also be a window or a tree, and sometimes the sound of a hound. Digging deep into the vocabulary of public transportation, you find that a bay is where a bus parks to pick up or drop off passengers. But suppose you’re driving a car on a Manhattan street. What are the odds that you’ll slow down to figure out where the “bay” is, or worse, that you’ll spend so much time thinking about the sign that you’ll overlook the red light in front of you? I stood near this sign for a while, watching cars turn left from any of three lanes, plus a bit of another, which was intended for vehicles traveling in the opposite direction. Redefine bay if you please, but please let it be common usage before it hits the streets.

Another location issue:

Curated how?

I’ve held onto this sign since last autumn, trying to decide what the thrift shop is doing. “Curated” implies careful selection. But “curated by location”? I can only imagine a vast sorting area with workers deciding whether a coat is “totally Chelsea” or “too Upper East Side.” If so, I’d like to see the selection criteria. Wait, actually I would not like to see the selection criteria. I gnash my teeth often enough these days.

Which brings me to this, the best statement about location I’ve come across:

Instant karma

I’ve seen several cryptic messages like this one, sprayed around my neighborhood. They take me back to the early days of Keith Haring’s career, when he pasted black paper over subway ads and then drew barking dogs or radiant children. Am I watching the next street artist develop? Maybe. Even if the artist never achieves Haring- or Banksy-level fame, it’s nice to know where karma comes back: in the shower.

Year End Thoughts

With only a few days left before 2018 hits the history books, I’m offering some holiday advice, culled from signs I see in the few NYC stores that haven’t been wiped out by e-tailers.

First, party hearty, but maybe not this hearty:

I took this photo in early December.

I won’t quibble about “Opening on January 2019.” If they are “close” because they’re sampling wine for most of a month, the mistaken preposition is understandable, if not inevitable.

Next, shop locally. I wasn’t kidding about the effect of online commerce on the city’s landscape, and from what I’ve read, the same is true in suburban and rural areas. I’m planning some purchases here:

You never know when you’re going to need an exclamation point!

I don’t wear contact lenses anymore, but I may stop by for new glasses and a couple of spare punctuation marks. A store with a sense of humor deserves to stay in business.

Last, a resolution for the year about to begin:

Grab that handle!

Judging by the headlines, 2019 will be bumpy. To make the world a better place, we all have to “PULL A LITTLE HARDER.” Actually, a lot harder. Happy New Year!