Thoughts from the ammo line

Sign up ahead: WATCH FOR WILD HORSES! Ammo Grrrll writes:

What has become of Humanity? Even the last time I was in Maui (2001), which used to be my Happy Place on all the Earth, there were signs in parking lots for parks, beaches and museums: “Lock all your car doors. Do not leave anything visible in cars. We are not responsible for loss.”

Maui is a small island. Almost certainly it is not tourists breaking into other people’s rental cars. That means that a certain percentage of – let’s face it, young men – have decided not only to be criminals, but to punish the very people who bring prosperity and jobs to their island.

The first time Joe and I were in Barbados, our cab driver Izzy was taking us around for the day to see some of the natural beauty of this almost-100 percent black island. He pointed out some heavily armed soldiers, also all black, flushing some miscreants out of some high grass. Izzy – whose radio was softly broadcasting a long, endless, unfathomable cricket game while he was driving – said, in his beautiful melodic Bajan accent, “those be criminals who ruin it for everybody. We don’t put up with that. If the soldiers find them, they will ‘shoot ‘em off.’”

He was not unduly upset about that prospect. He had a living to make that depended totally on tourists feeling safe.

While driving east from the Dusty Little Village to visit a wonderful new friend, I kept seeing signs on Riggs Road that cheered me immensely: WATCH FOR WILD HORSES!

Oh, Phoenix is not exempt from the horrors of open borders and consequence-free crime. I’m sure if I ventured into downtown Phoenix parking lots would be willing to rent me a parking space as long as I understood that they are “not responsible” for break-ins to my vehicle. The outright theft of a vehicle at gunpoint is not unheard of either, though less so here than in states with no respect for the Second Amendment. (Good luck here, dumb bunny.)

Here in rural-ish Arizona, it’s pretty delightful that the main danger on that stretch of Riggs Road is colliding with one or more wild horses.

The one route OUT of the Dusty Little Village, is called alternatively John Wayne Highway, Queen Creek, and the 347 just to make it fun for lost strangers. One clear and present danger is idiotic drivers who are slamming on their brakes and abruptly pulling off to the shoulder the better to photograph those herds of wild horses. Even if they have to disconnect from whomever they are already talking to on the iPhones which come with the “welded-to-your-hand” option. Sometimes, of course, the driver doesn’t even bother to pull over — he just weaves merrily from lane to lane, the better to video the majestic herd.

Joe and I once saw a herd that had to number well over 100 horses. We did pull way over and the videographer was NOT the driver. But the cheery sign on my way to my lunch date got me thinking about other signage. Signs seem to fall into several categories:

MORE OR LESS POINTLESS SIGNS

BRIDGE MAY BE ICY:

As great comic Demetri Martin said in one of his many specials, this sign would be just as accurate if it said, “Bridge may not be icy.” The sign is particularly helpful in New Mexico or Arizona in July. While the chances may never be zero, I think I will risk it.

WATCH FOR FALLING ROCK:

Okay, that sounds like a pretty good idea, but on a narrow mountain road with oncoming traffic in the other lane, exactly WHAT am I supposed to DO if I see one of those rocks tumbling toward my car? Ideas? Bueller? Anybody?

YET MORE POINTLESS SIGNS

The 45 mph Speed Limit sign ANYWHERE in Arizona, including sidewalks, residential areas, and gated geezer enclosures. God made the West Wild, and by cracky, we free citizens are going to go just as fast as we want to at all times, as is our God-given right under one of the Amendments to the Emoluments Clause of – we’re pretty sure – the Constitution. Or the Bill of Rights, or possibly a Bill of Lading. It’s there! You can look it up!! This goes double, of course, for the hilarious posted 70 mph speed limits on Highway 10. (And not just in Arizona, but in New Mexico and Texas as well.) Go ahead, TRY going 70. You will be rear-ended within seconds.

Here’s a particularly pointless and hilarious sign in Maricopa County: VOTE HERE! Haha. Vote or don’t vote; It doesn’t matter. The printers will be out of ink and the Judge who is supposed to rule fairly that, given the circumstances, perhaps the polls should stay open just a few more hours, is going to say “no way.” If you show up to vote, Photo ID in hand and the Poll Watcher informs you that you have already voted, just suck it up and go home. Even in Arizona, the strangling of a Poll Watcher is still illegal.

MASKS REQUIRED

Now here I don’t know what Maricopa County did, but I can verify that in Pinal County where I live and in Yavapai County where I “summer,” such signs might just as well have come with a codicil line: “If you feel like it. Nobody cares.” Even in Midnight Blue Minnesota, in Douglas County, land of my raising, a nice gift shop had the following sign on the door: “Masks must be worn unless you have a medical exemption. HiPPA Laws prevent us from asking about your medical situation.”

SIGNS I ENJOYED

In a bar in Fort Worth, TX: “Be nice or go home.”

And in a gift shop filled with many breakable items in Solana Beach, California: “Please keep control of your children. All unaccompanied children will be given a free puppy and a bottomless cup of espresso.”

SIGNS THAT INDICATE SOMEBODY IN THE D.O.T. HAS A BROTHER-IN-LAW IN SIGN MANUFACTURING BUT NOT ONE IN HIGHWAY REPAIR:

“Bump.”

SIGNS OF THE COMING APOCALPYSE:

Found in my clinic’s office and referenced in a previous column, but well worth repeating:

“It is a felony to assault any medical personnel.”

As Archie Bunker used to say, “Good Night, Nurse!”