#366 Moderately Extreme

I’m a great one for noticing signs. When I was a kid, our family drove many vacation miles and since my arm would only tolerate losing so many games of slug-bug to my older brother, I took to reading billboards and such to while away the time. It’s a habit that dies hard. I saw this one stretched across State Avenue downtown. It was in the place where normally banners announce upcoming community events or festivals. Occasionally the area is rented out by civic or government organizations to promote a certain message. Share the Road, Drive Hammered Get Nailed, Free Tibet, that sort of thing. This sign got me to thinking. It said “We Are All Salmon Stewards.” My first thought was, shouldn’t that be flight attendants? Oh yeah, it’s okay to degenderize stewards and stewardesses in the world of commercial airlines but not when it comes to salmon. How about, since obviously salmon husbandry has nothing to do with airplanes, we just use the new method like chairman chairwoman and chair. Let’s not call them stewards, but stew. Then the sign could read we are all salmon stew. I get to be the potato. And no, I will not change sal-men to sal-person. The other sign I saw challenged me in a more subtle way. We are all used to the TV onslaught of Extreme whatever. Extreme sports, extreme skateboards, extreme endurance run, extreme moto-cross. Extreme Death Match 2000. That whole thing. So we know that extreme means pretty damn intense. Requiring lots of stamina, guts, effort and most of all action. The sign I saw was on a bumpy road construction area. Backhoes had been digging up ditches across the road to bury sewer pipes and utilities and then backfilling with packed dirt and asphalt, leaving the road about as smooth as the free way into the drive in movie. Cars deal okay with a little bump or two. But apparently the state has taken an especial interest in the health and safety of our road warriors, fearing that today’s new biker may be a little more lawsuit happy than his grizzled fifties predecessor. 40K for a new Harley defines a slightly different socio-economic niche. So the sign in question said Motorcycles Use Extreme Caution. Apparently by not saying motorcyclists they avoided that whole gender thing. But what really got me was the caution word. Caution to me means the act of not acting. Holding back, refraining from activity, because you’re contemplating the possible negative results of actually acting. Contemplating is not like plunging down a half pipe, soaring up the opposite side, and catching major air. So how, I wonder, do you exercise extreme caution? If caution is lack of action then extreme caution is being comatose. Catatonic caution. When you use caution, it’s not like using a wheelbarrow; it’s like having on your thinking cap. Ooh. I might need to take a nap. I just did some extreme thinking.
America, ya gotta love it.