Sprayed on a local footpath.
I always like these over-simplified signs which are open to interpretation.
Does it inform us that there is ‘No dog fouling’ in this area, in the sense that a survey has been carried out and that it was found that there were no, or zero, dogs found to be fouling in the area, and this sign has been proudly sprayed to tell everyone lucky enough to walk here?
Or is there only one ‘dog fouling’ here, and its name is ‘No’.
Or is it instructional, and people are expected to shout ‘No’ if they see a ‘dog fouling’.
Or is it meant for dogs to read, saying ‘No’ to any ‘dog fouling’.
Or is it a pic of ‘No dog’ taken while he was ‘fouling’ and intended to shame him into not doing it again.
Can I go on? Thankfully, no (I have other things to do).
Not sure exactly where, I think near Haymarket St and Marfield St in Carntyne.
I only saw 4 sprayed nearby, so wonder if it is just a resident’s handiwork, and not an official instruction.
Seems a little unfair, as I walk the streets quite a bit nowadays, and have been quite impressed as nearly every dog walker I see, even on grassed areas, seems to be prepared to carry little black plastic bags, and collect their pet’s ‘soft warm gift’ without flinching. So much so, passing overflowing street bins in anything resembling warm weather is now best carried out at a distance, or at least holding breath until past. An unfortunate effect of council cuts and reduced collections combine with a successful campaign to gain dog walker’s cooperation.
There’s a definite downside to being forced off the road (aka not driving) in that you lose the desire to go to risky places carrying camera gear that might look expensive. Low light photography become a thing for early winter evenings when you can walk to possibly interesting places when there are still crowds around, rather than going places in the dead of night when they are deserted, and only likely to have people you would probably rather not meet being nearby.
I had no idea the Barrowland Ballroom neon still worked, let alone was in use, but there it was one (dark) afternoon/evening, flashing away and looking impressive.
As an aside, seeing it has made me wonder where I could find anything similar, since all the other (large) neon adverts are long gone from Glasgow.
I don’t have a sufficiently wide lens to catch the whole frontage in one shot, and panorama stitching results in distortion when used so close to the subject, so this was a chance to exercise some perspective correction filtering I had been using for another project. Provided this is applied correctly (and ignoring the anomalies that can arise for non-planar views) the results can be pretty good, as this corrected shot illustrates:
The coach wasn’t going anywhere, and is the only real flaw.
It was harder timing this shot to catch all the lighting active than to correct it, since the stars and letters are not all illuminated all the time. Now alerted, you should be able to spot the variation in intensity of some of them.
‘Experts’ (who I suspect don’t even own a camera) keep telling me to shoot this sort of scene in RAW, but I’m sorry, I’ll be ignoring them and sticking with jpg while the results come out like this, and I don’t have to work harder.
For reference, this is the original view, which I had to capture from one side and at an angle to get into a single frame.
This was partly dictated by the lens, but at the time, was also forced on me as it was the only place I could get a clear and unobstructed view (forgetting that coach), and I’d probably have been given a hard time if I’d tried climbing onto the roof of pub/shops just behind.
I’m almost tempted to leave off the ‘oxy’ when noting the funny oxymoronic ‘Photo-Experience’ signage I spotted in the St Enoch Centre (and had all but forgotten until I started indexing some of my recent pics).
While it’s fair to say we know what they mean, it would have been nicer had they taken some proper advice and prepared a more friendly and polite request, rather than this rather crude and blunt effort, which would be more appropriate on something like a security sign outside a Top Secret military establishment (where you might get shot for ignoring it).
I’ve been playing with some distortion filters, so thought I’d give this one a try, to make the warning clearer, especially the extra on the left:
Surprisingly effective correction, for little or no effort.
I had to follow a slightly different path during one of my recent wanders, as the gates to a station on the route were tied shut. When I got closer I could some busy men working away on platform – but due to the lie of the land I couldn’t see what the were doing as they were above me since the road passed below the station.
But I did notice something I hadn’t spotted before, the Neighbourhood Watch warning sign shown below, attached to lamppost on the station’s perimeter:
I have to admit, this one left me more than a little puzzled.
After all, one of the things you need for a neighbourhood watch to work is… watchers!
In this particular case, a look to north from near this sign shows:
To the south:
To the east:
And finally to the west, with the path to the station above, which is an unmanned station, and the lamppost with the sign attached:
To be fair, this is a little tongue-in-cheek, and while there is nobody here, and few people to see that sign (I seldom see anyone else when I walk here), the actual area it covers is that of Broomhouse, for which you can find more details here:
I’ve been looking at this shop sign for ages, but for various reasons, never been able to stop and catch a pic.
The shop itself is long gone (I assume, since I’ve never seen it open when I’ve been passing), and if business was better, probably another would have opened in the premises and I’d have lost the chance to catch the sign, but I managed it this week, even if the heavens did open and try to make it almost impossible to dare take out a camera that was guaranteed waterproof.
I like coming across forgotten old signs, something that is becoming harder and harder to do as so many organisations find they have a “clean freak” somewhere on board, and they love to instigate Tidy Up campaigns, on the basis that the smarten up the company image and make it look more successful and productive.
Somebody needs to take these OCD types around to the back of bike sheds, and introduce them to the difference between somewhere that looks ‘interesting’, and somewhere that has merely become depressing and grubby because nobody has bother to keep it clean and tidy. ‘Old’ does not necessarily equate to ‘dirty’.
While walking along a perimeter fence, I happened to spot this survivor from the past, presumably warning potential offenders who may have wanted to climb it that they were being watched.
Hard to tell what it may have referred to when it was valid, if it ever was.
It might have been nothing more than a bit of psychological warfare.
It was just over a year ago when I spotted a funny pic, with A Tool for Eve.
The joke is no more, since they had the sign repaired.
But things are little better, as it’s no longer funny, still broken, and just sad now.
They’re not getting much for their money from whoever services their signs.
As it was a year ago:
I seem to have mentioned the ‘tidy effect’ once or twice in recent posts.
This refers to some areas finding that anything old is automatically unwanted, and considered to bring down the tone of the area, so has to be removed to clear the place up, tidy it, and make it look ‘better’, and probably show that the local councillor is ‘on the job’, so deserves a vote.
I noticed a little sign on a long surviving shop in Baillieston, and I wondered if anyone ever even noticed it.
I spotted it because I try to remember to ‘look up’ (sometimes), just in case there’s something interesting to see off the usual eye-line, or towards the upper storeys or roofs of building I’m passing.
I won’t give the exact location, so locals who may have missed this over the years can play at finding it – thought it should probably be fairly obvious for anyone that knows the place.
I always forget about this sign until I happen to walk along Renfrew Street or around Charing Cross, and happen to look at the backs of the Sauchiehall Street buildings.
It’s another in the recent low-light series, with lighting from street lights and a floodlight above a door somewhere below.
The only available support didn’t quite provide full stability, or let me avoid a bit of the sign being obscured by a street sign, but then again, any pic is better than no pic.
I have to slow down a bit, and take more care.
It’s funny what you come across when not paying much attention to anything in particular.
Quite a few streets have been closed off around the area of Parkhead over the years, and I happened to pass one I had largely forgotten about. Once, it used to be nothing more than a wide, but short, dead-end street behind a school and factory. Now, it’s not even that, as the school was closed years ago (and is now derelict, overgrown, and sealed), and the factory closed not very long ago. Well, maybe it was a little longer than that, but it was so quiet I only realised it had closed when I noticed the window had lain vandalised for weeks – not something that would have happened if it just happened to be outside working hours whenever I passed.
The surrounding area used to be taken over as a car park whenever there was a big match on at Celtic park, but even that seems to be fairly rare these days, and the area this affects is now much smaller. Whether or not the useless Emirates shed built for the forthcoming Commonwealth disaster will affect this is yet to be seen. Maybe they will subsequently use the abandoned velodrome as a Pay and Display car park some day.
However, while the natives still have to use the streets, we can still enjoy the simple pleasure of eyeballing signs such as the one seen below.
I found another one recently, somewhere in the same area, as I had to drag myself down to the shops at Parked Forge to collect some goodies. But I’ve already forgotten which street it was in.
One day, I’ll remember not to forget things.
Somehow, if I was to do such a thing as go watch a football match (something that is beyond me I’m afraid, drying paint would hold more interest), if I had left my car under such a sign, I don’t think I’d enjoyed myself, and might not even as got as far as the ground, before turning round, collecting my possessions (if they were still there) and heading home to watch on TV.
For one slightly worried moment, I wondered if the infamous Black Hand Gang was making a resurgence in the east end of Glasgow.
Wobbling home after a trip to the shops, I spotted a line of odd signs tied on to some temporary fencing around some works that had sprung up on some of the houses during the past week.
At first I thought some frustrated artist had decided it was an easy way to show of their works – apparently some sort of psychedelic tie-dyeing variation, as shown below.
On first sight, it was a black hand on rainbow background, neatly presented in a clear plastic laminated cover to protect it from the weather, and tied to the fence with the ubiquitous cable-tie. Like most places, we are plagued with cheap and nasty adverts tied to just about anything that a cable-tie will reach around, and I was even trying to work out what this might be an ad for.
It’s worth pointing out that the camera sensor ruins the effect to some degree, as the wording that can be seen behind the colours was not evident to the naked eye (and it was a dull, grey, wet, evening too.
I walked along the fence, noting that apart from the black hand, all these signs had completely different coloured patterns on them.
Of course, it turned out to be something that was little more than a classic example of Sod’s Law, and had I happened to have walked along this fence beginning from the other end, then there would have been no mystery, as the very last sign provided the very mundane answer.
Unlike the others, it had been laminated properly, and the edges heat sealed.
All the others had been made without being sealed properly, so the rain had penetrated them, seeped in the paper, and filtered out the various component colours of the non-waterproof ink that the signs had been printed with.
Still, at least it made me smile, and not just feel as if I had been made a mug of.
And another interesting photo-opportunity after months of drought – maybe things are getting better.