Stop Making Sense

I think this particular article could become a regular series.

It's about everyday things in the world that seem perfectly fine at first. Somewhere in the back of your mind, though, you realize there is something very wrong with a particular thing, but you can't articulate it at first.

Then whamo, it hits you. This happened to me on the subway recently.

It's a sign that appears everywhere on the subway. It advertises a suicide hotline. I've looked at it a million times, partly because there is often little else to do on the subway, and I also feel like I should join other people in their vacant staring.

I know, I could play iphone games to stay busy. I just find staring at tiny moving graphics for an hour quite tiring and annoying.

Don't worry, I have no plans on using the suicide hotline. Occasionally I'll try suicide wings, but that's as far as I go.

But I've always suspected something very basic was wrong with the sign. Then I realized how astounding it is that someone was paid a lot of money to design this sign.

In very large letters, it tells you to call the suicide hotline. That's a good start. Often people in a desperate situation need access to help quickly.

The next largest things are 3 graphics -  a phone icon, two hands beside each other, and another that I really couldn't identify. Not without careful study, anyway.

I figure people who need this sign probably don't have the mindset to study graphics carefully, or really care about them at all. I could be wrong.

The hands graphic is peculiar too. Maybe the hands are about to shake each other. Call for a good handshake. Or a helping hand. I guess that makes sense. Or maybe you'll get a good hand job if you respond to this sign. I'm not sure. And that's me, calm, together and having loads of time to study the sign.

Guess what the next largest thing is on the sign… Have you guessed yet?

You might say, um, oh gee, maybe an incredibly easy telephone number to remember. You might even think that telephone number should be one of the largest items on the sign. Large enough so that if you're zipping by on a train you might be able to see and memorize the number. You know, because people in a desperate state might not be in the mood to study a sign for a while.

Nope. The next largest item is a box with the logos of the companies paying for the hotline. They really pop out at you. That's really sweet of the corporate sponsors, one of which is the TTC itself.

Before you jump on the track, please note which companies are helping people around here, okay?

The smallest type on the sign (and it's small) shares with us inconvenient details, like the number to call and the fact that every platform has a free phone link to a crisis centre.

Mundane details like this are a nuisance to corporations trying to be good citizens. On the other hand, if you're trying to stay alive, well, who knows, you might want this information in your face. Just a guess.

So if you quickly look at this sign, you are left with the words CRISIS HOTLINE, some neat clipart, and logos. If you want any more information, well, have a seat and start reading the fine print.

One time I received a brochure in the mail encouraging me to buy tickets for the Rogers Cup tennis. The two largest items on the brochure were awesome and well placed photos of tennis players in action, and the number to call for tickets. Hire that designer, I say.

I'm sure the person who suggested the big headline, FREE CRISIS PHONE HERE, was fired. So was the numskull who wanted the crisis hotline, which the sign tells you to contact, nice and bold and large.

The guy in charge of logos? He got a promotion.