Burma-Shave
Burma-Shave
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* *
* Driving Back *
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* In Time *
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* Dad Recalls *
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* With *
* Weathered *
* Grin *
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* Signs *
* Of The *
* Time *
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* Burma Shave ® *
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I asked my Dad what he did, on his long drive to California,
as a kid. He tells me he read Burma-Shave Signs. Listening
to his recollection, leaning in - I had never heard this before.
He tells me they read like poetry. Six in a row, 100 feet apart,
at 35 miles per hour, the kids and adults, too, had 3 seconds
to read each one. The signs were red with white lettering.
Each poem would end with a punch line, like a limerick.
In 1925, journey for travelers was lightened up on Hwy 65
from Minneapolis to Albert Lee, whilst shaving cream was sold.
I can just see those eyes attentive, the smiles as they looked
and read out loud. From across time, I see my grandparents
in front, the homemade trailer, behind, and three preteens,
a toddler and baby, lumbering along in laid back days.
In my childhood, we read the signs that lead to the border,
between the Carolinas; we’d arrive at South of the Border.
are we there yet;
no need
for a screen
when a sign will do.
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