Street Signing Man

I’ve been interested in street signage since my early teen years — I think my first act of admiration for our wayfinders came when I was 14 and tried to steal a street sign that shared the same name with a girl I had a massive crush on (I was unsuccessful as a neighbour drove by and asked why I was standing on a mailbox with a screwdriver in hand). This fascination has carried into my professional life — that’s why last year, for our Public Art issue, I commissioned Marc Ngui to create new wayfinding signs for Toronto that the city did not already have. They were cheeky and full of social and political commentary.

Yesterday, I flipped through a Toronto Sun found on the streetcar and saw that columnist Joe Warmington shared a similar fascination. But reading his column made me feel like I was transported back to when I was 14 simply becuase he writes like he’s still in grade 7 (note: no one in a major daily paper should be using “etc” in their writing — you are paid enough to think of one more example). He complained about all of the signs in the city — you know, the bylaws we’re supposed to be following, the things that keep the city functioning. Yeah, he hates that. And his attempts at being funny come across as just plain offensive. Here are some juicy tidbits:

But we do have a sign with a hotdog cart with a line through it that says “no vending except by city permit.” Oh those bylaw-breaking hotdog guys must be controlled. But perhaps instead of those signs the city should put up some with a crack dealer crossed out — unless, of course, he has a permit.

…

There are other confusing signs about litter — what to throw into what box, etc. They could start with the smelly sleeping bags of the homeless rotting on the sidewalks in 30C heat. Are they blue box or grey box? We may need a sign.

Sometimes bad journalism (and bad hats!) like this deserves a letter to the editor or a direct email to the columnist himself.