The Lonely Life of a Billboard

As I am driving my car along a stretch of country highway, I sometimes find myself pondering what it would be like to be a piece of billboard advertising Australia. Seriously.

I mean, think about it, how would you like to be standing out there on your own all day? You would have nothing to do except wait, wondering why people keep driving past, never stopping to say hello or shoot the breeze. The only interaction you would have is people either ignoring you or gawking at you for a few seconds.

And what is what you’re being used to promote is not something you agree with? There would be nothing you could do to change it. You would just have to sit there and wait until the next wave of advertising came along, hoping it would be something meaningful, but with no way to ever know what it is anyway.

You would also be void of conversation out there. No piece of billboard advertising is ever placed closely to another one. You would have no one to talk to, no one to discuss your respective lives as billboards.

Then there are the billboards that don’t even have a purpose yet. Those ones that simply read “Advertise here. Call this number” or something to that effect. Imagine standing out there, in the middle of nowhere, with no purpose and no message to pass on. As if your existence didn’t feel meaningless enough—you’re not even good enough to sell coke.

Yes, the life of a billboard is truly a solemn one. It is an existence of loneliness, of pointlessness, and of futility. You would even envy the road signs that, while smaller, are serving a useful purpose. It could be worse though, you could always be a road marking.