This is a theory of mine: the problem with drivers in the US is our road signs: they have too many words on them, and our population’s declining literacy levels are making this a challenge for compliance with the posted placards.

I lived in Germany for  a while, where the Vienna Convention on Road Signs and Signals holds. Vienna describes a group of symbolic signs nearly devoid of text that control the safety aspects of roadway behaviour in the EU and other areas of the world agreeing to the convention. Notable in not agreeing is, of course, the US. I found that after a period of adjustment, the signs were easy to interpret and that I could respond almost instantly to them, because visualization was all that was required. I did not have to process them. Well, “no parking” and “no stopping” took a while to sort out, but hey, who is perfect? By the way, do not drive your Volkswagen Cabriolet off of the dock and into the river. You will likely get wet.

A typical Vienna convention sign has a ground color, an accent color, a shape, and a symbol. For example, the speed limit sign is circular (command) with a white ground (information) with a red outer ring (prohibition) and a number in the middle (actual speed limit). A parking area sign is square (informational) with a blue ground (permission or recommendation) and a white P (parking area designation). All of the signs follow a few rules and language independent. Two faves are these, which are actually related.

For example, consider the signage on the south side of the intersection of Coolidge Highway and Big Beaver Road in Troy, MI. The right lane must turn right, and is signed as such. Compare this to the Vienna sign, which is a simple blue circle with a white directional turning arrow.

US RLMTR road sign

Vienna FRR

A few of our colleagues have gotten the point, and signs like this one are starting to show up. The arrows require little to no processing to understand, and the only is completely superfluous, likely a throwback to the wordy original.

US Pictoral directional

I could go on at length with comparisons, but I think you already get the picture (pun wholly intended).

So, why am I bothering about this? My older son is taking his introductory driving course here in MI this month. He’s learning about road signs and such, and he’s noticed the peculiarities of our wordy signage already. One is something the Germans call the “Schilderwald”, or forest of signs. It happens when a large number of signs are erected close together. Examples in the EU are numerous, and typically hilarious as the signs often conflict with each other. It is not unusual to find people taking photos, a non-trivial number of which will be used to contest traffic citations.

In the US, we persist in using signs with words on them. In English. Imagine a Schilderwald using our signs, and how long it would take to read all of them. The pictograms are enough work! Thankfully, this mess is only for pedestrians, who have time to stop and process it.

So, let me get up on my soapbox here and argue for conversion to the Vienna Convention. It would make life easier, better, and much more fabulous, being that everyone would have a shot at driving sanely, regardless of their literacy level. Imagine a US where everyone can interpret the signs and follow directions. Where even the most distracted texting driver has to only look up from their phablet for half a second to catch the sign, know what it means, and do what it shows. Where reading of road sign text will never more distract anyone from the road, or whatever the heck it is that they are doing on it. Paradise is what it would be.

At the same time, maybe we could finally convert to metric, too? Please? They already have the signs for that made up.

About the two signs at the top, which I playfully call the caterpillar sign and the picket fence sign. The caterpillar sign indicates an ungated railroad crossing. And, you guessed it, the picket fence indicates a gated one.

I previously wrote about moving over from my factory lowered BMW F650GS to a standard CBR250R, and how it inspired me to re-evaluate my dependence on getting my feet down at stops.

Recently, I rented a stock NC700X for a long weekend in Germany, and it seemed so natural to ride with my feet kind of, sort of down, but not like on the F, which, honestly, I tower over. A good inch or so between me and the seat when standing. Pushing the NC up and over with my left leg and finding the ground with my right foot eventually seemed like what you do. In fact, when I hopped on the F after coming home and my right foot hit the ground while the bike was still on the sidestand, the light bulb really started to glow. When my foot dragged on the ground as I was coming to a stop, there was no longer any question. My bike is too damn low.

What I’m finally figuring out is that it is actually harder to balance a bike at a stop when your knees are bent. The knee bend introduces a degree of variance, some instability, basically extra flexion, into the system. The NC was delightful at stops, partly because the center of gravity is ridiculously low, but also because my legs are straight, and that extra flexion is not there. There is a natural stiffness. I did have to plan some stops, looking to make sure I did not ride up on top of a ridge, rather instead down in the groove so that my full foot would be placed solidly on the the ridge, but even that lost its appeal after a while. I finally came to peace with the idea that taller is actually better for an experienced rider.

I place the experienced rider caveat there, because as a novice, I needed the mental and emotional security of both feet solidly planted on the ground. This is not a bad thing in and of itself – there is no shame in wanting to be comfortable as you grow into riding. The important thing for me is that I have been able to grow out of it as I’ve added experience.

I’ve begun the process of assembling the parts necessary to convert my F from low to normal. I may never make it to Dakar heights, but getting to normal is a big and welcome step. As I master normal, I will open the door to a new world of bike choices. This is cool.

A colleague of mine recently bought a Golf. A blue Golf. He was thinking about getting an A1, but didn’t like the loud colors. This from a guy who wears purple plaid shirts to work.

Southern Germans, specifically Audi, basically invented the boring silver car that seems to drive the perception of and image of German people in the US. The real reason for the silver cars is that most German execs don’t want to be seen driving flashy cars, to the point that they will order the boring silver car with the badges removed. No chance at identifying it as better than anyone else’s, that might attract envy. Whatever. The only other color Audis seem to be available in over here is trash-truck orange. I don’t get the dichotomy, but I do love it.

image credit autoblog.com

German people are a colorful dichotomy in every part of their lives. They decry the possibility of sharing personal data, but give out their bank account information like candy on St Martin’s Day. They don’t want to be seen, but dress in beautifully colorful and creatively designed, extremely close-fitting clothes. Which they happily remove completely at sauna. They are the first to blur their license plates and house numbers on Google Maps, but they drive bright green cars which they park directly out front. Have I mentioned the number of personalized license plates? They are everywhere!

I love the color. I love the patterns. I love the lack of grey in daily life in Germany. I love the close-fitting tailored clothes. I love the fact that the typical German person takes the time to carefully choose what to show and what to hide, rather simply hiding everything or showing everything, like we do in American culture. Let’s face it – if you are worried about your thighs in the US, you wear a grey suit cut like a flour sack to work, regardless of the fact that your upper half would make the cover of Vogue. Here in Germany, ladies pay little or no attention to their less-stellar-looking parts and focus on drawing attention to what looks good or even great. Guys are the same way – dressing for what works, rather than for what doesn’t. And the color! Did I mention the color? Or the prints? Or the plaids? Oh, fabulous!! There is a reason Desigual is beloved here.

Before I left, quite a few colleagues mentioned that I would likely fit in much better in Germany due to my clothing habits. And I did. Then I went even further. I put aside all of my grey sack suits and I bought a hot pink suit that is cut just so. I customer ordered pink and white motorcycle leathers. I dropped a small fortune at Desigual, and I have a few more items in mind to grab before I leave. Oh, wait, I’ll be back, so there will be no end to my Desigual habit, I think! It drives my American colleagues nuts when I and my attire walk into a room. I no longer care – I am sorry that they are afraid to look awesome. I am not any more.  I am no longer ashamed of my body or of my colorful sense of self. I will continue to use color for purpose.

I am contemplating replacing my old blue Passat with a froggy green Golf one day. Or a yellow Elise. Yes. A yellow Elise sounds just about perfect.