Random thoughts from a randomly functioning mind. Seems about right for that wacky thing called Year Twenty Twenty.
Tootling around T Town lately we were struck by the lack of political signs. We understand that politicking is curtailed by the virus. Hard to press flesh from six feet away. Even harder to kiss babies with a face mask.
No door to door canvassing. No festivals or other large gatherings for the candidates to swarm. All the normal campaign venues are cut off.
Sign of the Times
Stabbing campaign yard signs into the dirt is a pandemic appropriate exercise, though. It can be done alone or in small socially distanced groups. It’s an outdoor activity, making it even safer.
Usually by the beginning of August we’d see hundreds of the little buggers in yards, on roadsides, and at places of business. Now? Almost nada.
What gives?
In a normal year, campaigns organize phone banks to call likely supporters and ask if they can place a sign in said supporters’ yards. Phone banks can be accomplished in a pandemic friendly way — masks worn until phoners are seated, hand sanitizers aplenty, frequent washing of surfaces, six feet between phones. There’s no reason this couldn’t be done.
Incumbents typically have lists of addresses for sign placement from previous campaigns. A few quick phone calls to confirm the placement for this year and voila!
Campaigns have been forced to forego ‘in person’ fundraising. Virtual fundraisers, drive through fundraisers, and online appeals have taken the place of crowded meet and greets. We doubt such substitutes are as effective. Mebbe those who run the campaigns are short of cash, and don’t have the dough to spend on signs?
The few signs we’ve seen have given us beaucoup chuckles, btw. Take GOP candidate for LC Commissioner Ron Murphy. Like every GOP candidate in blue Lucas County, his signs make no mention of his party. Instead they announce that he’s a “Proud American.”
Which is weird, because the only prominent symbol on the sign is not a flag , nor an eagle. It’s a four-leaf clover. Apparently ol’ Ronnie’s even prouder of his Irish last name. If so, a three-leaf shamrock might have been a better choice. Or mebbe he knows he needs a whole lotta luck to oust an incumbent commissioner like Pete Gerken.
What’s in a name?
One of the basic tenets of political signs is they’re a logo for the candidate’s brand. Like a logo, they should be consistent. As pols move from position to position, their signs should remain unchanged, and emphasize the candidate’s name.
Take PHH. She recycled her old “PHH For Mayor” signs by adding some well-placed stickers and making them “PHH For Ohio House District 44” signs. Phil Copeland’s logo has been the same whether he was running for City Council or County Recorder. And his signs emphasize the similarity of his name to his well known deceased uncle, and beloved long-time elected official, Bill Copeland.
All good. So what’s up, Earl Mack? Earl is running for LC Sheriff. We’ve seen at least three completely different signs for him within a few city blocks of each other.
Is he trying to make it look like there are three Earl Macks on the ballot so he can beat Mike Navarre with sheer numbers? As an aside, we have seen exactly zero Navarre for Sheriff signs.
One of the Mack for Sheriff iterations is a full color super sign featuring Mack’s mug looking grim and proper. We can’t imagine how much a full color print must cost, but, whatever it is, it’s too much. Who wants to see a larger than life glossy pic of a politician on their way to the Fritzee Freeze? We sure don’t.
The last candidate we can remember who put his mug on his signs was once-perennial candidate Terry Shankland. He apparently had the misguided notion that seeing his face topped by an olde timey straw hat would win him votes. It didn’t, and he lost every race he ever entered.
There’s a cautionary tale in there. Your sign should emphasize your name, the thing electors will see on the ballot. It’s “Mack” that matters, Earl.
Not your shining but forgettable face.
