Getting the dirt on political lawn signs

“Get off my lawn.” The words just spilled out. I was crossing the yard to get the mail when I noticed an addition to The Kid’s Halloween display. To the left was a cartoon candy corn using yet another ill-advised exclamation point to bellow “Treat!” To the right were the gams of the Wicked Witch of the East planted into the turf (no wonder witches are grumpy — look at those heels).

Nestled in between was the most terrifying October tradition of all: A dreaded campaign sign.

From a professional perspective, I am forbidden to plug candidates with the likes of lawn signs.

On a personal level, I just don’t see their value. If you want to pick a fight with the neighbors, just get to the point.

“Yes, we had a party last weekend, and no, you were not invited.”

“Hey, would you rake those leaves already?”

“Yeah, I’m stealing your Wi-Fi.”

“Do you ever plan to wash that car?”

“You know those are weeds, right?”

“Yup, that was me mowing the lawn at 6 a.m.”

But political lawn signs? Is anyone really going to be persuaded to choose a candidate because their name appears in sans-serif fonts? Every candidate uses sans-serif fonts. And everybody chooses the same Betsy Ross color scheme.

My position on this is well-known, at least in my household. So when the sign promoting a state representative candidate bloomed among my autumn weeds, I reflexively suspected my wife was punking me.

For while this recent incident occurred at our home in Newtown, I’ve had this problem before at our former house in Stamford. One year, a high school teacher was running for office. Some students walking home vented frustrations with him by yanking signs from nearby yards and plunking them all on my corner property. I was city editor at the time and couldn’t decide what looked worse for me — that I was supporting a candidate in my yard or that some of the signs were mangled.

On another occasion, my wife schooled me on election laws. A neighbor was running for office as a member of the Green Party. There was already tension because we’d published stories revealing he was running for a seat in a district in which he did not live. When I walked home from the office one night, I was greeted by a series of Green Party signs in the anorexic strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street next to my house.

I took one inside to show my wife.

“Now go and put it back,” she scolded me. “That’s a public right of way. It’s the city’s problem, not yours.”

“But I have to mow the grass and shovel …”

“Yes, you do. But that grass belongs to the city.”

I put it back. After some heavy overnight rainfall a few days later, I started my morning walk to find the signs had been rendered unreadable. The Green Party had, admirably, recycled signs that were shamefully abandoned by Ghosts of Elections Past.

Unfortunately, masking the old signs with mere paper was no match for water. The grass looked like it had been seeded with confetti. The Green Party had (inadvertently) littered.

Do you know what’s more annoying to pick up than tiny pieces of moist paper from grass? Nothing.

As a bonus, the signs were now promoting former candidates.

I took a couple of pics on my phone and posted a blog. By the time I got back home that night the signs were gone. The candidate read my blog. Further proof that a story only

“There are 169 different towns and 169 different sets of zoning ordinances.”

Joshua H. Foley, State Elections Enforcement Commission

needs to reach an audience of one to get desired results.

Still, all these years later I confess confusion about where candidates are permitted to plant signs.

I sought clarification Friday from Joshua H. Foley, an attorney and spokesman for the State Elections Enforcement Commission.

“Even though it seems like we should be the people to talk to about it, in most cases we are not,” he replies.

In other words, I’m wrong again.

Apparently, I’m not alone in seeking guidance from the commission. Foley is efficient in citing potential violations and explaining why they are not his department’s problem.

“People call us about stolen signs. That’s a matter for the local police.”

“If people want to politick on the town green the town has to decide to let everybody do it or nobody can do it. That’s up to Town Hall.”

“Frequently we hear reports of signs being removed from the sides of roads and it’s usually the DOT picking up signs from where they shouldn’t be.”

I suggest the rules must be relatively consistent from town to town. He corrects me again. “There are 169 different towns and 169 different sets of zoning ordinances,” Foley says in a tone that seems to question whether I’ve ever been to Connecticut. “There are a lot of idiosyncrasies from town to town.”

But one thing never changes. Everyone has the right to free speech in their front yard. OK, everyone but journalists. I’m privileged to have this landscape instead.

So go ahead and express yourself, but don’t sign me up.