Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign

The calories from the Halloween candy haven’t even been burned off yet and already there are Christmas decorations in the market place. Thanksgiving turkeys are still nibbling grass, blissfully unaware of their annual star status on the food chain. In other words, we are at the starting line of the holidaze, but we’re just getting warmed up, or cooled off in terms of weather.

‘Tis the season of dressing in layers, stoking fires, sipping tea, kicking leaves, planning parties, and donning our gay apparel, but the frenzy is still a few weeks away, so for this quiet lull between trick or treating and cranberry sauce, we thought we’d display a few signs from our travels.

The fog and storm images are self-explanatory and rather Novemberish, but the rest might require a little narration.

We’ve noticed that stores in other countries have a certain charm to their names. Perhaps tourists from other countries are also enchanted by what we name our shops. Yes, I imagine the lyrical sounds of K-Mart, Bi-Mart, and Walmart inspire much poetry and picture taking. On that subject, I just heard a great line, “If I keel over in Walmart, drag my body to Niemans!”

Who knows what “Mimi la Sardine” in Paris sells, or what could be found at “Funky Fish” in Naflion, but if it turned the contents of one’s stomach, beware of ever throwing paper down any toilet in Greece. “Twould be a faux pas of major proportions.

However, the soothing pepto bismal pinkness of the next three shops should sooth any upset tummy. “Piiiiiiiink…”

Mona and her enigmatic smile have fascinated peasant and nobility alike for over 500 years, so it should not come as any surprise that La Gioconda still woos the customers, whether she is hawking a sidewalk café in the City of Light, promoting “The Groovy Store” in The Peloponnese, giving out free pumpkin fudge samples in California, or representing Humboldt Carpet.

Speaking of celebrity endorsements, there are many ways to achieve Point Relax. In this sign, apparently Buddah is suggesting a cocktail. I’m getting mixed messages from Monsieur Van Gogh though. In one hand, he’s holding up a bottle of Absinthe, but he seems to be shaking his head back and forth in a dazed confusion. Does he want us to try the green fairy or is he warning us off her nasty sting?

Another way to achieve Point Relax is through retail therapy or, gasp! How did that sign get there? Honest Mom, it’s just a traffic sign, I had no idea.

Any helpful narration has come to an end, for the next few remain mysterious and they found their way into our cameras because of their baffling nature.

I’m super confused by NeOVADIAL. What’s it supposed to do? I mean, the poor woman is obviously in bad shape. She’s wearing some sort of brace or corset on her neck, and her hair stylist appears to have been in the throes of PMS or on an Absinthe trip gone awry. Come on, look at those butchered bangs and the gap of skin peeking out from her scalp above her ear. The cream cooked up in the Vichy Laboratoires has not eliminated the woman’s crow’s feet, yet she’s staring complacently as if she’s had a few of those Buddah cocktails.

As an aside, please remember that you can enlarge any of the photos by clicking on the images and then hitting the back arrow to return to the blog. For details, it helps muchly. I insert this handy dandy public service announcement here, so you can be sure to read the fine print at the bottom of the next one…

What? Persians for sale? Can we do that now? Again, confused. Are they new older Persians, or are they older new Persians? Regardless of their age they have been “examined by U.S. Customs and Border Patrol.” At least that’s what the green tape says. Attention attention - No more red tape, everybody’s going green.

Avast and ahoy, the head exams are free. Is this part of a kinder, gentler bureaucracy, the new health care plan, or a courtesy we now offer foreign tourists, otherwise known as homey land hospitality?

In New York hangs a sign with the words, “Fur and Furgery.” Oh, pray tell, what does that mean?! Perhaps I should give one of the Wanks a call and ask. Really, if you’re a wank, you’d hang out a shingle and advertise? Well, maybe the honesty’s refreshing. “Hello, Babe, I’m a wank, give me a call sometime.”

Ai yai yi. It’s all Greek to me. Anywho, see ya at Point Relax.