Chalking development at OSU

University has erased the right to scribble on a sidewalk

Ohio State students are no longer permitted to write with chalk on university property. I’m not making this up.

In a revision revealed this week, OSU’s University Signage Standards now say “chalking is not permitted on campus.”

Does the university have something against hopscotch? No, I’d say it has something against people expressing their opinions, lest they offend the vengeful Trump administration. It’s not the first concession OSU has made to our MAGA overlords. Nor is OSU the first university to ban chalking.

A spokesman told The Columbus Dispatch that the chalking ban was added in light of “continued complaints regarding chalking on campus and the significant amount of administrative time spent evaluating chalking.”

OSU’s chapter of the American Association of University Professors called the chalk ban part of the university’s continuing assault on free speech.

It’s also hilarious. Our enormous institution of higher learning is afraid of chalk?

Well, fear always leads to overreaction, and overreaction always leads to resistance. And that inspired me to write the script for a new police drama called New Kid on the Chalk, about a rookie on the elite Ohio State University Anti-Chalk Squad:

Opening scene: The show’s theme song, Rock Around the Chalk, plays while a montage shows trainee Chuck Calcite erasing chalk messages with a pressure washer at a practice range, listening as an instructor demonstrates the dangers of extra-colorful chalk, and beaming proudly as he pins on his badge at graduation.

The music fades and we see Calcite on his first day of work, striding into Anti-Chalk headquarters while firmly grasping a chalked sign. A grizzled desk sergeant looks up as he approaches.

Sergeant (sighing deeply): Calcite, where did you get that sign?

Calcite: In front of a restaurant. Clear chalking violation.

Sergeant: Calcite, this is a menu board with the lunch specials.

Calcite: But it’s written in chalk. And look, it says “smash burger.” Couldn’t that be a covert message to launch some kind of attack?

Sergeant: Maybe — if it didn’t go on to say “with fries and a drink.”

Calcite: So you’re telling me no crime has been committed?

Sergeant: Well, the burger costs $19. That seems kind of criminal. Otherwise, no. Now get back out there and try to use more common sense.

Calcite is back on the beat, resolved to use better judgment. When he runs across a group of kids playing Four Square on a university parking lot, he quickly washes away their chalk markings with a spray bottle of water but makes no arrests.

As the disheartened kids walk away, Calcite calls after them: “You got lucky this time, punks. Do it again, and you’ll be looking at hard time.”

As the day wears on, OSU students begin to defy the chalking ban by scrawling frivolous things everywhere. Calcite is kept busy, running from one call to the next: Tic-tac-toe markings spotted near Mirror Lake, letters of the alphabet brazenly chalked in front of the student center, chalked flowers blooming at a bus stop.

To make matters worse, hundreds of students have donned sandwich-board protest signs with chalked messages. They are roaming the Oval, daring anyone to stop them. Students taunt Calcite.

Student: We know we can’t chalk the sidewalk. But no one said we can’t chalk ourselves.

Calcite, disheartened by how little he’s accomplished, swings by the Woody Hayes Athletic Center to make sure all is well there. And that’s where he spots a chalking he feels he can’t ignore. In the next scene, we see him walking into headquarters, this time with a suspect in tow.

As he approaches, the desk sergeant drop his head into his hands.

Sergeant: Calcite, what in the name of . . . “

Calcite: I caught him drawing symbols in chalk over near the Woody.

Sergeant: And were those symbols X’s and O’s perhaps?

Calcite: “Yes, and there were big arrows, too. It looked like plans for some kind of mass movement or something.”

Sergeant: Calcite, do you realize you just arrested Ryan Day? The football coach?

Calcite (glancing over at his suspect): I knew I’d seen him somewhere.

Sergeant: Sharp observation, son.

Calcite: But, sarge, those symbols. They were definitely in chalk. And very violent looking.

Ryan Day (smiling slightly): Well, it is a violent game.

Sergeant: Our apologies, Coach. The kid here is a new recruit.

Ryan Day: Understood. I’ve got a few of my own.

The end.