The first time I saw graffiti that was memorable was in a middle school bathroom. As 6th graders I often walked home with friends by the middle school we'd soon be attending. A stop by the boys bathroom near the boys gym placed me face to face with a piece of graffiti that immediately madame and my friends laugh uncontrollably. On the wall above the urinals, was penned a short poem that read"
This is a Teepee to take a pee pee,
Not a wigwam to beat your tom tom
14 year-old humor at it's best. The laughter my friends and I experienced was cathartic. Being bottom of the barrel Freshmen could have dire consequences in the boys bathroom. Those unpleasantries would come later, but for the moment, we were ecstatic and proceeded to read all the graffiti we could find. Nothing ever eclipsed the humor of the teepee.
Over the years, I've often dallied trying to read the graffiti somewhere. Psychologically, I know it's often an attempt at recognition. Certainly some excellent street artists have emerged and conceptual artists like Banksy have become internationally known artists. For me, however, it's the poetry of graffiti that I most admire.
I give poetry a wide berth when confining it to a definition. It doesn't have to rhyme and can be found anywhere. A college professor I once had once instructed his students to leave the classroom and return only when they had "found" a poem. A few students went right for the graffiti, as it's often abundant on a college campus.
Some graffiti can be dicey, if not pornographic. It can also be racist, sexist, or ageist. Often, it is flat out funny or objectionable. Two examples come to mind. For an entire school year, I'd drive by a building near Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley with a white stucco wall. What a canvas! On the wall was written Jesus is Coming. Underneath it someone had scrawled, "So Is Yo Mama! A guaranteed laugh everyday.
While driving through rural Louisiana one time, I stopped at a gas station and used the rest room. On a condom vending machine, someone had written:
Five, Ten, Fifteen, Twenty,
N word pussy good as any
A sober reminder where I was at the time, though I must admit, racist or hateful graffiti can be found anywhere in the USA.
Graffiti meets the definition of folklore in that it's often passed on by word of mouth and grows, morphs, and survives in various forms. I like the creativity and the humor. It's an art form all its own. The problem occurs when graffiti takes the form of vandalism. Millions are spent every year on graffiti abatement. But in its proper place, graffiti can be an unexpected, humorous revelation.
During the Watergate hearings and the subsequent resignation of President Nixon, the nation felt depressed and disappointed. I had just finished driving a U-Haul truck from Los Angeles to the Bay Area after my father died. Tired, worn out from the national nightmare of Watergate, and still grieving the loss of my father and the dismantling of the family home, I stopped for dinner at large restaurant just off the freeway. I first entered the Men's Room and found an open urinal. As my eyes adjusted to the wall right in front of me I read:
Smile, You are Holding Nixon by the Neck
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