Slogans and Such

Living in PA and working in MD, I do a lot of driving. Which means I see a lot of “Keep our state beautiful” signs (MD and PA both use these signs, although Marylanders appear to be more proud of their state’s natural resources in most places, if you were to judge by the sides of the highways). Recently I was on a trip to Washington, the Evergreen State. Now, if my license plate can’t read “Live Free or Die” I think “The Evergreen State” isn’t a bad second choice. However, I think they’ve got the best ‘don’t litter’ sign campaign I’ve ever seen. Everywhere you go, there are signs that read, “If you litter, IT WILL HURT.” Now, while that is probably referring to the devastation of the natural resources, it conjures up pictures of an angry NFL-type bouncer following people around to make sure that they don’t litter, and if they do, punching them to ensure that they don’t ever, ever do it again. Sometimes it’s great to work in government.

In my life, I have also managed to come up with a few lines of my own which I think would make great t-shirts. I think they would be marketable.

“I’m not fat, I’m Italian”
This is particularly applicable to one side of my family, where my relatives are known for feeding people. One Thanksgiving in particular, whenever one type of food would run out (whipped cream, meatballs, cheese topping for the pasta….) my grandmother could be quoted as saying, “Don’t worry, I’ve got more.”

“If you hit on me, I will hit back”
I imagine this would appeal more to the feminine side of the population, but perhaps more ironic males would wear it. Last month, I was walking into a retail store, and carrying the trash bag from my vehicle so I could throw it out. A male, about my age, was walking in the opposite direction. I was concentrating on what I was doing, thinking about work, minding my own business. The male looks at me and says, “You dropped something back there,” pointing behind me. Thinking some trash had fallen out of my bag, and not wanting to litter, I looked back, concerned. “I did?” I said. “Your smile,” he says cheesily, and then smiles at me, also cheesily, and expectantly. My mind went completely blank for a second. Then I thought several things: Is he trying to hit on me? Creepy! Did he really just say that?! What kind of response do you give that? Astutely, I said, “Oh.” And proceeded to stand there stupidly for a minute before continuing on my way. Now, if I had been wearing the above shirt, I feel that I may have been justified in hitting him (although not, perhaps, during work hours). Not that I am necessarily a fan of violence, but if men are warned off beforehand, they should know to keep their mouths shut. And if they are warned and don’t, then they deserve what’s coming, because, hey, they were warned.