Dear Sign Spammers: Please Use Wooden Signs So We Can Burn Them In Cheery Bonfires!

Photo and blog post by John Hoff

Don't be fooled by the smile on my face. I don't like sign spam. But I especially dislike the sign spam composed of yellow corrugated plastic, because I can't burn it. Burning plastic creates dioxins. Bad stuff. This puts me in an awkward position for a tree hugger: I find myself preferring the wooden signs.

Recently, Hawthorne Hawkman did some digging to discover the identity of the prolific "2 BR For Rent Heat Paid" sign spammer, click here for his article.

Me, I just like to knock 'em down and throw 'em in the trunk of my car.

In looking at this photo, I realize there is actually quite a bit happening in the image. Let's go through all the threads and tangents, shall we...?


First, yes, that is my vehicle, the one I took on a joyride through "Craterville" near the Washington Ave. N. holiday station with a television crew from KARE-11, click here. My vehicle survived the experience but "Craterville" is still in existence, despite some minor "cold fill" repair efforts.

Second, check out the business in the background. That's new new Pappy's restaurant at the corner of Washington Ave. N. and Jugg Liquors. I made passing mention of the restaurant opening before any other blog, click here, but the Hawthorne Hawkman wrote about it in more depth...with, oh my word, RANDOM PARROTS, click here.

Gotta love the blogosphere.

Now, look at the trunk of the car. It's a cup of Caribou Coffee. Yes, the new Pappy's restaurant has CARIBOU COFFEE. This is, like, a HUGE MOMENT IN THE HISTORY OF NORTH MINNEAPOLIS. Big coffee shop chains don't come up here to North Minneapolis, leaving the market to local "mom and pops." But you can get Caribou Coffee at Pappy's.

Pictured below is another thing you can get at Pappy's: a Greek omlette. This dish is my personal favorite, though I add my own twist: I save the olive pits for composting.



Looking at this photo I realize my life and the blogosphere are so intertwined, I can't tell where my life ends and the blogosphere begins. The internet has become the tribal campfire around which we sit and tell stories, and relate information useful to the people of NoMi.

But sometimes our tribal campfire is not virtual, but a real live bonfire...

Fueled by wooden sign spam.