Campaign Signs

It’s that magical time of year, when Suburbanites decide to express their views by planting wooden stakes decorated with the name of the candidate of choice into their pristinely manicured lawns. For the neighborhood dweller, this is a great opportunity to show the world (i.e. all of their neighbors) where they stand when it comes to Election Day. I find this act of staking a lawn sign for political purposes completely pointless.

With only two political parties in a country of over 250 million, it’s a good bet that when you plant the lawn sign, a minimum of 30% of your fellow suburb dwellers will consider you an asshole. Not that I would care about that, because I think the title of “Neighborhood Asshole” is quite a coveted position. If you’re the “Neighborhood Asshole,” no one steps on your lawn or tries to engage you in boring small talk about the weather or the always-pregnant woman down the street’s latest kid. Someday I aspire to be the know-it-all old lady or the “Neighborhood Asshole,” which ever one comes first.

Our neighborhood avoids the campaign sign issue completely by imposing a War and Peace sized book of Covenants, Codes and Restrictions for our little tract. I understand the reasoning behind the ban on the signs, but I don’t agree with it. If you want to put some politician’s name on your lawn, you should be able to as long as you haven’t fooled yourself into believing that that particular politician is working for the betterment of your life. I assume the reason why the lawn signs were banned stemmed from those freaky Ten Commandments people. You know, the ones that put the yellow, Ten Commandments sign up when that crazy Southern judge refused to move the religious statue out of a federal building. I’m sure those residing next to the freaky Ten Commandments people thought the yellow signs would disappear once the schmuck was thrown off the bench, brought up on charges, and the statue was removed anyway, but lo and behold, the yellow signs stayed. I wonder if they consider that guy an activist judge.

Perhaps the restrictions against the lawn signs are an attempt by our very vanilla Homeowner’s Association to keep peace and harmony throughout the neighborhood. This is a noble idea, but frankly, if I’m going to go off on what an incompetent, corrupt fuck I think our president is, I would like to know if my neighbor is a neo-con, so I can anticipate a belligerent reaction and really focus on enjoying the dismay that will ensue. I don’t really care which side of the fence you fall, because both of the aforementioned parties are full of self-serving bastards that don’t speak for average working people like you and me.

If allowed, my lawn sign display would be quite different. I would put a stake in my lawn about every square foot with quotes from George Orwell, lyrics from Rage Against the Machine, and website addresses for media literacy campaigns, Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting, and revolutionary groups. I would hang an effigy of Bush and Cheney from the porch, and place a large banner on the garage door telling my neighbors to wake up, because they are losing their freedom. All of this action would inevitably earn me the title of “Neighborhood Nutcase,” which might be fun for a little while, but I would much rather be the nosey, pain in the ass or “Neighborhood Asshole.” No body takes the nutcase seriously, but when the asshole shows up, everyone listens.

Since no campaign sign is allowed within the neighborhood, I am greeted by a line of them as I approach the entrance of my tract. I’m not sure why politicians choose to utilize this form of campaigning, because a name on a sign isn’t going to get me to vote for them. If anything, the only way they are going to hear from me is if that fucking sign littering my visual landscape isn’t gone the day after they lose the election. I have no problem with picking up the phone to file a complaint!

Yesterday, I received my voter’s guide, so I’ll rely on that as a resource, as well as The Seattle Weekly’s rundown of the candidates up for office. They may be a libby magazine, but they are willing to criticize their own, unlike some of the more conservative publications that stick to the taking points as if they were not humans, but simple-minded droids void of the ability to think for themselves. Actually, come to think of it, that is a pretty damn good description.

Despite believing that the only effective change that will come about in this country will be from a violent citizen revolution, I will go do the duty that many brave men fought for and cast my vote on Election Day. After all, if you don’t vote, you can’t bitch, and if you can’t bitch, then move to my neighborhood, because you can’t stake a campaign sign either.