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DOUG FORD: Sign language

You’d have to have a little age on you — I do — to recall the 1971 hit single, “Signs,” you know the somewhat of a protest song cranked out by the Five Man Electrical Band.

The refrain went something like, “Sign, sign, everywhere a sign, blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’ my mind, do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the sign?”

Well, truthfully, sometimes no, especially when you’re driving in an unfamiliar area and have to face the usual glut of road signs with very little reaction time to figure out which direction to turn.

Add to that with a number of potential road ragers behind you either honking their horns or celebrating the fact they’re No. 1, but with a different finger.

It’s funny, but GPS with all its advantages can sometimes lead you astray, so I’ve always depended on maps and signage.

That can be confusing and downright dangerous, particularly on an interstate where one can have literally seconds to decide which off ramp to take, or you’re doomed to ramble an extra few miles before exiting.

In small towns, following the right route number can take you on a twisting, turning tour of the town in question.

It can take passing motorists past museums, retailers and restaurants, and that can be a good thing, as more often than not “hole-in-the-wall” eating places can be the best.

Signs can be bossy, like “Don’t Walk On The Grass,” “No Admittance,” “Private” and “Keep Out,” but they can be positive, such as “Welcome.”  

Over the years, sign technology has evolved from neon to LED, but sometimes I’m willing to ditch the technology in favor of something simple these old, tired eyes can read. 

Something like, “Gone Fishin’.”