Ryan and I are finally settling into our new apartment. The books are on the shelf, the toothbrushes are in place, and the little quirks of a new place are taking shape. For instance, the top drawer in the kitchen: You have to open the oven to get the drawer open. Despite the funny quirks, the place is easily the most beautiful apartment we’ve ever lived in. And it’s in a wonderful location. (Photos will be posted shortly.)
Since we’ve re-located, I can now walk to work. Every morning about about 7:30am, I wear my bright blue crocs and walk about a mile down Queen Anne Hill towards the Girl Scout office. This morning I was thinking about how maybe I’d bring my camera on occassion to take photos of the mundane. Sometimes it takes a viewfinder to see the extraordinary in the daily.
When I got about two blocks out from work, I noticed a blue laminated sign. It was stapled to a telephone pole. Here, in Seattle, we really abuse our telephone poles. Each one is covered in stables, standing as a testimony to all the dog walkers, starving musicians, coffee shop open mic nights, and so much more. You see, the telephone pole (not the wires on it) does the communication here. When you want to know what’s going on in the city, you walk over to a telephone pole and read all the fliers stapled to it.
However, I happened to be on a side street–a street less traveled by. The blue laminated sign stood alone. And for good reason. This is what it said:
Hal? Do you read me Hal? Scoop your poop.
It was in this moment that I discovered extraordinary amusement in my daily walk. Thus far, (its only my 3rd day of walking) it never fails to put a smile on my face. While I fully understand that blue-laminated-sign-maker has undoubtedly spent many mornings and evenings scrapping poop off his or her shoe, I cannot help but imagine Hal (whether Hal is a disheveled man or a Springer Spaniel) reading the sign for the very first time. I imagine people peeping out their windows in giddy triumph as Hal felt the defeat of the blue sign.
If I was Hal, I wouldn’t want to use those gross bags and pick up the poop either; but perhaps, we could all use a reminder to scoop our poop–to stop leaving our crap around for someone else to clean up.
So, on this Wednesday morning, I remind you: scoop your poop.