Today I put the brand-new A-frame sidewalk sign in front of the bookstore. That may not sound like a big deal to you, but around here it’s headline news.
See, the original sidewalk sign was a very attractive wood frame thang that blew over at the merest touch of an air current. It could be as light as the draft from a flatulent gnat, that sucker was going down. And so over the weeks and months I enacted my private version of the myth of Sisyphus, heading down the front steps every half hour or so to right the sign. Tethering it to the railing didn’t make any difference. And then one night some dolt plowed into it with his bicycle, and the sign was pretty well trashed.
The new sign, on the other hand, is metal. Those autumn breezes haven’t stirred it even a fraction of an inch. It weighs over twenty pounds, and if I want to make it heavier I need only pour sand into its hollow legs. Yeah, baby!
And if I see that bicyclist coming down the Avenue, I’m putting the heavied-up sign in the middle of the sidewalk and stepping back to see what happens. What goes around, comes around.