I don’t have one of those newfangled wide-screen televisions. That’s why, lately, you’ll find me sitting on a folding chair on the sidewalk on the south side of Bank Road, opposite Thriftway, taking in the entertainment (FREE!) from that snazzy, new, towering, gi-normous, active video display sign Island Lumber has thoughtfully situated for my viewing pleasure right at the edge of the road. I don’t think I’ve seen anything more spectacular since Cinerama came to my hometown when I was a kid, back in the mid-1800s.
You gotta admit: It’s impressive: Flashing lights! Exploding rainbows and other visual marvels!
And the convenience — I used to have to drive down I-5 all the way to that endless commercial strip in Fife to get this kind of entertainment.
Come to think of it, though, I think I much prefer experiencing my wide-screen entertainment at the Vashon Theatre, which at least is heated. And has sound. And comfy seats. And popcorn.
I asked a chap at the store what the sign’s purpose was. He said, “To advertise our specials.” Okay, but don’t I get a circular in the mail every week that does that? This past week, you may recall, the featured attraction on the big screen was, “Muck Boots, 10 Percent Off!” I don’t know about you but, though I’d never thought about them before, I marched right in there and bought two pair — though ice cleats might have been a smarter choice.
“It also has the time and the temperature,” he added.
Call me crazy, but when it comes to temperature, all I need to know is this: cold or hot? And if I’m out on Bank Road, haven’t I already figured this out and dressed accordingly? Then there’s the matter of the time. Let’s remember this is a road sign. Which means it’s to be read from your car. Which has a clock of its own. So isn’t posting the time, you know, unnecessary? If someone asks me the time, am I gonna dash up to Bank Road to check? And that’s not even “Island time.”
You may recall that one of the recent hotly debated local topics is how to market the Island more effectively to draw tourists. Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m thinking a tourism slogan like, “Hey, we’ve got gi-normous roadside video signs just like Fife!” is not gonna work.
Vashon Island has no sign ordinance. And except for a garish ERA real estate agency sign that set off a firestorm of protest some years ago, no one’s abused that situation … until now.
The subject of sign ordinance rules has a lengthy history in U.S. courts, including the Supreme Court. Communities have the right to determine limits on when a sign is used, where it is used and the manner in which it is used. It does not have the right to control the content of the message, because that would be an unconstitutional violation of freedom of speech. In the end, the legal history comes down to aesthetics and safety. An individual or retailer’s freedom of speech through the use of signs can be constrained by a community either because the sign in question violates an accepted standard of aesthetic design or planning principles, or because it poses a safety risk.
Wander through a popular tourist destination like Friday Harbor, for example, and you will find no screaming signs. Why? Because, like Vashon, it’s not on the way to anywhere else; it doesn’t need to snag passers-through because there are none; it simply has to be attractive to those who invest money and time in getting there. Residents and retailers have agreed that a certain level of modesty and good design is more helpful to their bottom line than neon announcements. Of course Friday Harbor is an incorporated city with, you know, a real government and stuff. Vashon is merely an unincorporated hunk of King County, despite its distinct and intact identity.
In the absence of generally accepted community design principles, the matter of aesthetics gets thorny. I may find roadside “reader boards” unattractive, but you may find them a critical source of news.
I’m unlikely to yank my steering wheel into the Thriftway parking lot because the big sign on Vashon Highway says Clementines are $3.99 a bag. I mean, think about it: I’m going to go there anyway. Wouldn’t a small sign by the door suffice?
And anyway, on an Island there’s not that much competition — two very different supermarkets, one athletic club, distinctively different shops and restaurants, a few gas stations all within a penny or two of each other, and so on. It’s not exactly cutthroat.
But I can understand that a business like Kathy’s Corner relies on its reader board to let gardeners know what’s just come in today. Even in an unincorporated community like Vashon, though, citizens can still establish, within agreed boundaries, what is acceptable and what is simply not appropriate to the Island — like small reader boards are okay, but towering inferno video signs are not.
And then there is the matter of safety. There is little question in the law that traffic safety is a legitimate and necessary reason for regulation, since the primary function of any municipality is to protect the health and lives of its citizens and visitors. I would guess that the Bank Road entrance to the big Thriftway-anchored shopping center is one of the busiest traffic intersections in town: cars turning in, others pulling out, still others passing by. The brilliant colors and constant animation of the new Island Lumber sign are explicitly designed to distract. That, after all, their purpose.
But is it safe?
Is it right?
Is it appropriate for Vashon?
— Will North is a Vashon novelist. His next novel is set on the Island.
Related:
