It's that season again. Like mushrooms, yard signs are emerging from the earth around Alameda. One species, Signum pro Praetore, supports candidates for mayor. Another species, Signum pro Consiliario, supports candidates for councilmember. And some exotic varieties represent the tips of mycelial networks spanning underground distances across the city, county, state, or country.
(Upfront disclosure: This post will conclude with an invitation to request your own sign for the one local campaign that this blog is supporting.)
What do you think of all these yard signs?
Do they shape how you end up deciding which box to tick on your ballot, either directly or through an indirect set of impressions and associations?
Do they feel like a popularity contest of the same level of seriousness as middle schoolers slapping stickers on their binders and their lockers?
Multiple interpretations can be true. These yard signs can both be a noisy signal by which we can all judge the relative support across the city for a candidate; and these yard signs can simultaneously be a gratuitous use of corrugated plastic sheeting.
The one interpretation that is ultimately true is that signs don't vote. People vote.
More experienced mushroom foragers than I use fine-grained means of surveying the bloom. Similar to "Coyote Peterson" in a YouTube video watched by my younger kid, these foragers will discern:
- If there are multiple signs for the same candidate in a single yard, that may mean that campaign doesn't have enough supporters to take all their signs. However, if that yard is on a prominent corner, then multiple signs are worth multiple vantage points.
- Some campaigns invest in variants of signs with metal stakes for front yards and variants for placing in windows — the latter shows a campaign engaging supporters in multi-family housing.
- When a house displays signs for competing campaigns for a single office, are each spouse or partner or poly-partner or housemate having their own say? Or is it an awkward attempt by one individual to split a difference?
- When a single sign is staked in grass in front of an apartment complex, whose views are being represented — the tenants' or the landlord's? (Hint: usually the latter.)
- Seeing which political campaign signs are paired in the same yard or the same window can also be a fascinating view into the sometimes unexpected combinations of local voters.
How many signs is too many signs?
I've been joking that while my spouse already has to put up with all my talk about this hobby of local politics, our neighbors won't know my level of passion (err, nuttiness) until I surpass 2.5 signs in front of our house.
Three signs seems like the threshold where you may go from simply supporting a candidate or two based on their individual characteristics to, instead, becoming a wannabe politico advocating for an entire slate for each election cycle.
How large is too large?
Alameda seems quaintly agreed upon the 18" x 24" sign on thin metal states as the agreed upon canvass.
I took 4 quarters of Latin in undergrad (that was probably the most difficulty I ever had in a series of classes) and I have since forgotten 100% of it. All I remember is that Catullus was one horny dude.
But don't confuse Catullus (the poet) with Catellus (the real-estate developer operating at Alameda Point) — the latter Latin word, according to Google Translate, means puppy.
Speaking of Latin, I keep meaning to write a post some day about City of Alameda's motto: Prosperita terra mari que.
Today we get more of our prosperita from Salesforce and regional employers, rather than the sea, although some of us do continue to get our prosperita from the land. What's Latin for "Realtor®"?
In contrast, there's a corner we occasionally drive past in Mountain View where, during election season, candidates compete to place plywood-backed signs and banners. When we visit my sister-in-law in a suburb of Phoenix, the campaign displays erected at the corners of arterial roads are even more massive. When you need a superstructure of 2x4s for your yard sign, that must be a different species entirely.
As I was drafting this blog post over the past few days, a couple of Alameda's candidates for mayor and their supporters have begun musing online with their own imagined Signum Giganteums:
Left: post on Instagram. Right: post on Nextdoor.
Perhaps an AI generated Councilmember Daysog in a fighter jet does pair with his admiration for George H.W. Bush, who was an actual decorated naval aviator (before becoming director of the C.I.A., approving the Willie Horton advertisement, declaring "Read my lips: No new taxes," and leaving the U.S. in a sluggish job-less recovery from an economic recession).
A couple more practical notes:
- Political campaign signs are not allowed in public right of way (besides streets or in medians) or in parks, schools, and other public facilities.
- If you see a political campaign sign in city-owned land, you may report it for removal via SeeClickFix or take matters into your own hands and toss it in a Dumpster. (Unlike Realtor®, the trademark for Dumpster has apparently expired.)
- Per Alameda Municipal Code 30-6.8 Temporary Signs:
Temporary signs on behalf of candidates for public office and for or against ballot measures, to be removed no later than two (2) days after the election.
What do you think of all these political campaign yard signs?
- Do you think they are useful or wasteful or a bit of both?
- How many is too many?
- How big is too big?
The comments section below awaits your commentary...
Desiring a yard sign for your own front yard or front window? Alameda's Measure L infrastructure campaign is preparing to distribute signs. Please sign up to show your support for urgently improving Alameda's shorelines, streets, and seismic safety.
(We looked into compostable signage — but finding a combo of prompt printing, union printing, and affordable printing was already difficult enough. In my experience, these yard signs can also make for decent kids' construction or painting projects afterwards.)