I’m going do a George Carlin skit here.

I loved when he made fun of the English language, so I’ll do my thing with words on road signs I have seen in my nearly 60 years of driving.

Did you ever see a sign that says “Fog Area”? Why do we need a sign for that? If there is fog by the “Fog Area” sign, can’t we see the fog and not have to be told there’s fog by the fog area sign?

How about the sign that says “Hidden Driveway.” Now I think that sign is supposed to keep us safe from someone coming from where we can’t see, but it can actually cause a crash. If I’m approaching a “Hidden Driveway” sign, I have a natural curiosity to look for where it is. So, I take my eyes off the road, looking for the hidden driveway and boom. I crash into the car in front of me that had stopped to make a turn.

There’s a sign on Route 903 that says “Pass with Care.” Well, isn’t that what we’re always supposed to do? If that sign wasn’t there and I was passing a car in front of me, I’d swerve left, swerve right, roll down my window and wave hi to the driver. I’d run off onto the shoulder to kick up some stones and yell ‘Whoopee!” But since the sign tells me to pass with care, I will be careful.

I come before a red stop sign with an arrow pointing forward. Should I stop or should I go? Maybe I should park my car on the side of the road and wave down the next driver and ask: “Can you please help me? The sign says stop. The arrow says go. I don’t know what to do!”

Here’s one of my favorites. I’m driving down the Pennsy Turnpike at 70 mph and I see a digital sign that starts with “Exit closed from …” Now how am I supposed to read a moving paragraph while I’m driving past a sign at 70 mph? Imagine I slam on my brakes and back up until I can read, “Exit 87 closed from Sunday November 1 until Tuesday November 3 between the hours of 12 and 6 a.m.” Next time why not scroll a good novel on the sign. I’ll pull off to the shoulder and read the whole darn thing!

Approaching a red light in an unfamiliar town, I see a sign a few feet before the traffic light with three black lines that explain what to do at the light.

I’d have to pull over and study the sign so I could choose the correct lane. Since that is impractical, I make the wrong decision and get in the left lane when I want to go straight. The green left turn arrow lights. I put my right turn signal on to get in the center lane to go straight. I can’t move. A stream of cars leaves me no room.

Meanwhile, the left turn light turns red and the drivers behind me send me a musical tribute of blaring horns, and when I finally move to the center lane, they salute me with a collective display of middle fingers.

Then there’s “Slow Children Playing.” Do they move their feet in slow motion while they kick a ball on the street? Do they have mental disabilities? How about the “Deer Crossing” signs. Did the Department of Transportation survey the deer population to see where they like to cross the roads? What if a deer crosses a mile past the sign. Can it be arrested for illegally hoof walking?

Some years back, I was driving in Cape Cod and I saw a road sign that read “Thickly Settled.” Am I approaching a community populated by thick people? The sign was yellow, a caution about something. Maybe it meant the community has so many residents that they can’t get out of their own way and the last thing they want is for me to stop by and add one more body to their human flesh pile!

In Kingston, Pennsylvania, many of the intersections have four-way stop signs. You must yield to the first car that stops, but what if I arrive at the same time as the other three drivers? We play cat and mouse. I wave for someone to go. He waves for me to go. We both pull out the same time, but meanwhile, a third impatient driver speeds right past both of us. The next intersection might be a two-way stop and I have the right of way, but I keep my foot on the brake just in case.

Driving down Route 903 into Jim Thorpe, I get to where the sign says “Use Low Gear.” I do. I shift into third gear with my foot off the brake at a comfortable 40 mph. I look in the rear mirror and here comes a driver riding his brakes until he’s a few feet from my back bumper. No wonder my mechanic does brake jobs every 15,000 miles for drivers like him.

One more I see that’s not a road sign but on the rear windows of cars is “Baby on Board.” Well, thanks for telling me that. I was about to drive right through the trunk of your car, but your sign stopped me to keep the little one safe.

I got to get me a “Senior Citizen on Board” sign to warn the angry guy behind me that I’ll be driving 25 in a 55 zone on Route 903. When we get to the spot just past the Penn Kidder School, I hope he sees the sign that says “Pass With Care” before he speeds on by.

Email Rich Strack at richiesadie11@gmail.com