<b>Billboard worship</b>

EDITOR: Thank God, Rohnert Park constructed a digital billboard alongside Highway 101 that blots out half the skyline ("Sign of bigger things," Wednesday). In this dark age, lacking communications, how else can we know about the local 10-percent-off sale? Those boring panoramic views of vineyards and rustic countryside, so favored by ill-informed tourists, must give way so we can locate the nearest Burger Queen.

I just returned from a three-week trip throughout Alaska, driving more than 1,200 miles. Alaska, that backwards state, banned billboards in 1959. All I could see was a constantly evolving cascade of skyscapes, water, mountains and forests. I longed for the never-ending array of 70-plus-foot-tall blinking billboards alongside Interstate 70 in Missouri, spaced a minimum of 500 feet apart, changing every eight seconds and running the entire length of the state. But who wants to see Missouri, really?

So I'll hop in my car and head down to Rohnert Park. I just hope that the surrounding countryside doesn't disrupt the view of the billboard.


Santa Rosa