On Billboards

Yesterday and today, I helped a friend from high school move from Brookings, SD to Rapid City. On the way back, I took notice of the variety of billboards that line our interstates. Since nearby Rapid City just passed two ordinances limiting this mode of advertisement, I thought I'd take a moment to muse on them.

Most SoDak billboards are obviously aimed toward tourists. There are tons of billboards for Wall Drug, perhaps the most heavily advertised location on the planet. Starting back in the Korean war (or something like that), a family member of the proprietors of Wall Drug decided to advertise for the family business while he was shipped out. Thus began a long tradition of having Wall Drug signs in ridiculously distant places: "WALL DRUG: Only 6,320 Miles!" They even have a sign in SD that is itself an advertisement for another of its signs: "WALL DRUG: Sign in KENYA, AFRICA." Hilarious. Wall Drug itself, sorry to say, does not live up to the hype. It's not that it tries and fails; I think most Dakotans, the people of Wall included, recognize that the joke is on the tourists that stop there. It's a small town with a large, kitschy strip mall, free ice water, 5 cent coffee, a big, rubber T-Rex, and a 6 foot Jackalope. All that said, you should definitely go.

Another billboard has even earned a status as an inside joke between my brother and myself, an ad for a location that I refuse to advertise explicitly: "None mean, Real keen, PRAIRIE DOGS." I hate the phrase, but I can't get it out of my head once it's there! Reptile Gardens, the various Black Hills caves, and Sturgis sites are among the most common of the tourist-y billboards.

Other billboards are more ambiguous in their target audience. We have one prominent billboard next to a Catholic cemetery that says "Abortion Kills!" Now, SoDak is, generally speaking, a pro-life state, so that board must see itself directed toward those liberal tourists coming through. Or something. There are also a good number of bible boards with phrases like, "The Wages of Sin is DEATH," and "Believe on the Lord Jesus and You will be SAVED." That one's probably for the bikers at rally time.

The only billboard that actually got me angry on my trip across the state today was a set of two boards for a Conoco gas stop. The first said: "Next rest stop: anyone's guess" and the second read "Gas stop now, or gas can later." I got riled up because of the stereotype under which the billboards functioned. I understand that they are meant to be humorous, but their ability to bring in business is dependent upon people accepting the premise that South Dakota is a barren wasteland spotted with rare and distant oases of civilization. Furthermore, rather than attempt to provide any valuable information, such as the actual distance to the next gas stop, those boards play on tourists' fear of coming up short. The moral of the story: don't buy Conoco gas, those insensitive Dbags.

Another large category of signs are the agriculture signs. There were a bunch of boards for this website, and I thought those were good. Others were probably aimed at out-of-staters who don't know much about the area. One of the read: "Beef: Our STEAK in the FUTURE!" Bggh. Terrible. Another was awesomely belligerent: "We Dakotans REJECT Animal Activists! Beef, Poultry, Swine, and Fur are our LIVELIHOOD." I get a good chuckle out of that one. Who's that for? Maybe a reminder to in-staters? A warning to all those activists cruising the interstate? What is the reader supposed to do after reading that sign? I'm not sure. A third reads: "Help Control Animal Populations: WEAR FUR." 100% pure awesome.

There are also signs that are notably absent. The only reservation sign I remember is one for Rosebud Casino. It's about 50 miles from the interstate; the I-90 interstate route doesn't intersect with any reservations. In my mind, it's pathetic; the tribal lands in Minnesota are at least near major population centers and thus capable of drawing a significant crowd, but this poor casino is relatively remote, and its sign was not well-maintained. Though the family-farm-protection signs are important, what I deem lacking are similar signs for native peoples. There's no signs like: "Help our Native Peoples out of Abject Poverty" or "Pine Ridge: POOREST County in the NATION. What happens next is up to US" or "Stop the Sale and Transportation of Alcohol to the Reservation!" More on that some other time.

Beyond the content of the signs, the passage of the Rapid City billboard laws brings up a more holistic question about the purpose and nature of billboards. I earlier criticized the Conoco boards for perpetuating a sort of "Buttfuck, SD" mentality, but in a way, all billboards do precisely this. Their ubiquity along the interstate is an implicit judgement that there's nothing better to look at for over 300 miles of road.

Don't get me wrong; driving in SoDak can be boring. It most certainly does not require one's full attention. But that doesn't mean that I don't like driving here. I find it one of my best chances to think. Whether I'm driving to town, cruising the interstate, or swimming laps in a hayfield, the endless rolling hours help to clear one's mind. I will occasionally turn on the radio (usually KBHB 810 Farm Radio, The Most Powerful Radio Station in South Dakota) or plug in my iPod, but it's fairly common for me to just sit and think for a few hours.

These sorts of habits are not encouraged by billboard America. They direct your thoughts, distract the mind, and ignore the geography. When these new Rapid City ordinances passed, some people complained that local business would suffer. Perhaps. But if South Dakota is to remain a place worth visiting--a place where people can hear their thoughts and enjoy unbroken scenery--the absence of billboards might actually bring more business to the state.

Boredom, rather than the reigning board-dom, might be best, both for the state and for its drivers. Boredom reminds us that life is lived in large chunks of inactivity, people passed out in the back seat, people alone with their thoughts, people staring blankly out the window at nothing at all. It is our ability to cope with this boredom and transform it into tranquility and profundity that is not only the essence of monasticism, but an essential part of human living. The ability to savor life, knowing that each mile brings you closer to your last, is intolerably difficult. The moment we realize we're doing nothing but get closer to death, we immediately move on to something else, either as a distraction or as an attempt to stave off that result for a little while longer. But perhaps we'd be better off if we turned our eyes toward the gaps between the billboards, and let the expanses teach us a lesson in mortality. It can't hurt to try; after all, what else are you going to do?