Seeing signs of the times

My neighborhood poll

At my home we’re all in for signs. We’re decorating like it’s Christmas. If Wal-Mart sold an inflatable Coach Walz we’d own it. I’d pipe Beyonce’s “Freedom” into the yard if I could. Post flags. Reclaim your patriotism.

Signs and American flags. Lots of flags.

Walking the neighborhood here on the northwest side of Tucson a few weeks ago I was distressed by the number of Trump signs.

But then, walking this week, I was surprised at what I saw. Harris Walz signs. Popping up like Spring flowers.

The Casas Adobes burb in which I reside is home to many a MAGA disciple who feels oppressed, living in their 4-bedroom ranch homes and driving their $80,000 monster trucks. Poor babies.

For me to see any Harris signage was eye-popping. Here is what I saw the other day when I took a walk around the neighborhood:

I was stunned. Flabbergasted. Blown away.

And then while painting signs for future marches my daughter texted me this brilliant idea she saw on Facebook:

Whatever works. Put yourself out there. Take a stand. I’d post more but I have to go buy more paint brushes. It’s now or never.