What Campaign Signs Really Tell Us

I saw my first political yard sign this week.

Whether it was the opening salvo of the April elections or just some forgotten relic from the last campaign I couldn't tell, the corner lot where it appeared is choked with weeds and heaps of junk revealed by the snow melt. I was too focused on the road to catch the candidate’s name or what political office he or she is seeking, then again it may have been a real estate sign advertising the lot is for sale—hard to tell at 45 mph.

I did notice that the first three letters were italic, all-caps—which tells me the candidate (or agent) needs to fire his or her sign printer and hire a qualified graphic designer who knows something about typography. Italic, all caps—just don’t. Ever.

Prior to the November 2010 elections, The Onion ran a story about how a yard sign with a candidate’s name on it "electrified" the congressional race and "catapulted the Republican to an all but insurmountable lead over his opponent." You would think a spot-on "so true"satire like that would discourage any candidate from spending marketing dollars on yard signs, yet prior to every election they pop up in intersections like costume shops at Halloween—and they breed like rabbits.

Once one sign goes up, every other candidate feels compelled to mark his or her territory in the muddy lot opposite the stoplight with their own sign, until the entire intersection looks like a corrugated graveyard dedicated to a list of candidates whose names you’ll forget the second the light turns green. Unless you're caught by a funeral procession, in which case you’ll have some time on your hands, so study up.

Local elections are like minor league baseball. You recognize the game, but you have no clue who any of the players are. Some are up and coming stars, some are former stars trying to hang around, while others are just filling in positions until Uncle Sal comes through with that sales gig at his Buick dealership.

I understand how important name recognition is in a crowded field and that the only way most of us know any of the candidates (aside from your neighbor's wife is running or a candidate shows up on YouTube coming out of Duelman’s at 4 a.m.) is those crappy little yard signs. But do you really think getting your sign up in February is going to compel me to vote for you come April 5? By then I’ll be so tired of seeing your name everywhere I may just cast a vote for your opponent out of spite. Be warned. 

Sometimes those signs grow tired of the intersection and run off under cover of darkness and plant themselves in your yard. No really, it happened to us during the last election. I’ve never actually seen the signs running, but what other logical explanation could there be? I didn’t put them there and I know no candidate’s supporters would ever stoop so low as to carpet-bomb my property with yard signs, just because I happen to live close to a school and a polling place—right?

Funny thing is, I felt guilty ripping them out and throwing them away, like I had something personal against that particular candidate. Sorry buddy, I just don’t like my yard being used as a billboard without my permission.

Maybe as we get closer to April I could charge a flat rate per sign, maybe a little extra for the primo spots up closer to the sidewalk. If you're running for Village Council give me a call, we’ll work something out. Just remember I get 100 percent of the concession stand profits (buttons, T-shirts, tchotchkes with your name on them) and I expect you to go to bat for me the next time I forget to pull a permit. Deal?

I’m kidding of course, I would never place a yard sign in front of my home for fear the neighbors would notice I haven't been trimming the hedges or that my Christmas lights are still up. (I'm getting to it.)

I see signs in a lot of front lawns come election season but really, do I care that the guy down the street is endorsing Edith Nesbitt for Village Council? Isn't that the same neighbor who brought the flaxseed tacos to the block party last year that made everybody sick? Didn’t he suck down everyone’s beer and pass out on the bags board? And you want me to vote for his candidate?

I have a theory when it comes to yard signs. My theory states that a candidate's position on any given issue is not nearly as influential or important to a prospective voter as the condition of the house that his or her yard sign occupies. Shallow yes, but completely true.

Don't believe me? During the last mayoral election, my wife and I had just moved to Downers Grove and didn’t know anything about the candidates or the local hot-button issues, so we didn’t vote. However, in the evening when I would walk the dogs around the neighborhood I started to notice an odd pattern in the distribution of yard signs.

The majority of homes that featured yard signs for the incumbent needed exterior work. Not all, but most. Neglected rose bushes, peeling paint and the sun blasted carcasses of old lawn ornaments all hid in plain sight behind those signs. By contrast, the homes that featured the challenger’s signs were either relatively new construction or had tasteful additions and well-maintained front landscaping—not an old TV antenna anywhere in sight.

Based on my decidedly unscientific observations, I surmised this election pitted "old school" Downers Grove (established, maybe older) against a newer, younger homeowner who desired a change from the "same old way." I didn't follow the election, but I knew what the outcome was going to be. It was right there in the signs—or, should I say, crumbling behind them.

With April fast approaching I have some advice for the candidates. Your signs tell me your name, but their location tells me more. In between meet-and-greets at the pancake house I would sneak around town under cover of darkness, inspecting the homes that featured my campaign signs. Bring along a tub of spackle and a Philip's screwdriver, maybe a few gallons of exterior white.

I’ll be happy to put up a sign for you if you can do something about my green leaf hostas on the east side of the house. I think they’re getting too much sun.