No little flag with a pineapple on it for these folks; they get right to the meat of the matter. Oh, I know, some mellow-harsher will try to tell me it's just kids playing, but I prefer to believe it's the last desperate croak of a wise but cranky old man who has been through life's abbatoir and with his last faint pulses of energy has picked up a brush and scrawled this stark admonition to a heedless world. The charging hordes of young storm troopers, cell phones to ears, don't even turn their heads as they crunch countless ants with their relentless Cole-Haans on their way to the office or the condo or Starbucks or the 'watering hole' or the parking garage, and I shuffle in their wake, and when I see the sign, all I can think is "Now you tell me."