Highland cracking down on signs

Like a wanted poster from an old Western, Highland has posted a reward for the apprehension of criminals said to be striking the upscale Utah County neighborhood with a "blizzard of garbage" each weekend.

The city is enticing residents with a $250 reward to snap photos and jot down license plate numbers of anyone involved in the outlawed shenanigans.

The crime: posting signs, specifically the cheap corrugated plastic ones advertising Internet dating services.

Although the same type of flimsy signs flap in the breeze on stiff wires at most major intersections and freeway entrances in virtually every city along the Wasatch Front, they're rarely spotted in the Highland, a city so reputed for its strictly enforced signage code that many have dubbed it the 'Sign-less City.'

"The signs end up being, by my definition, just clutter," said Larry Mendenhall, city councilman. "So the enforcement process had been stepped up and those signs have basically disappeared."

The city pays its sign enforcement officer Steven Randall about $3,400 a year to keep it that way. He drives around in a pickup truck for a couple hours everyday, plucking up, ripping down and tossing out piles of signs on public — and private — property.

Real-estate signs are OK. But gone are the days of nostalgically posting a lemonade-for-25-cents sign, even in your own lawn or driveway.

"Residents can't just plop the sign in their yard," said Carly LeDuc, Highland code enforcement officer. "You have to get a permit for that."

And since each temporary permit costs $20, a law-abiding 7-year-old juice entrepreneur would have to sell 80 cups of the citric refreshment to cover the overhead of his city permit. Luckily, the sign is good for two weeks of business.

The same fee applies to yard sale directional signs, but the extra cost isn't always passed on to the consumer like many capitalistic business models. Instead, folks have found a way around the stringent policy by parking their cars on the street and slapping directional signs in the windows. Some children hold directional signs at corners for their parents' yard sale. And many, if not most, tape up their neon-colored, 99-cent poster board anyway and risk Randall's daily drive-by plucking duty.

Tickets are rarely issued, Le Duc said. "We do about three a year. Typically, we try not to get to that point with residents. But if there's a specific group that keeps doing it, that's when we pursue it."

The roughly seven-page-long ordinance is indeed strict and firmly enforced, but many folks have praised the City Council for its strong stance on clearing what they view as rubble from their streets, LeDuc said.

And although that many or more complain about the code, not one resident showed up to a meeting in March where the council considered amending the law.

A new ordinance, which has yet to pass the council but has been recommended by the planning commission, is designed to give residents more flexibility for temporary signs.

"It's simply is a matter of walking this fine line between allowing the citizens to live their lives and doing away with the clutter," Mendenhall said. "Certainly there will be discussion and debate about private property and constitutional rights as we go forward."

E-mail: jhancock@desnews.com