By Matt Cover
Posted on Monday, April 28th, 2025
Ahhh, the “Good ol’ days” B.C. (before computer)…. Who doesn’t remember them with fondness… or at least a small tear (from laughter) in one’s eye? After 45 years, so many of my endeavors as a sign artist prove my grandmother’s quote: “Experience keeps a dear school.”
In the early days of applying my burgeoning sign skills I was attempting to, as Michael W. Smith sang, “Find my place in this world.” (Or was it “Find my face…?)
One of my early—though not necessarily fond—memories involved lettering a simple message on a half sheet of plywood in the company of some interesting fellows. My canvas was nothing remotely similar to the smooth overlaid plywood commonly used for signs. No, this was probably the roughest piece of plywood in southern Ohio at the time. I don’t remember the instrument I used to apply the paint, but it wasn’t a quality fitch, bristle brush or other similarly qualified lettering utensil appropriate for such a rough surface.
As I struggled to letter this 4-by-4-ft. artistic gem, I couldn’t help but realize I had become the entertainment for the half dozen or so biker-type dudes who were standing around, drinking beer and watching my every move—which was unpleasant enough.
The highlight of that morning’s event was when one of the boys pulled in on his chopper with his pet chimpanzee riding shotgun. Talk about starting to feel like something out of a Barnum & Bailey’s sideshow. Or maybe The Twilight Zone. I vividly remember the chimp owner spanking his monkey (no joke intended) as though it was his misbehaving toddler. It was enough to drive any PETA member into a PTSD episode. Eventually, I was able to finish pushing paint around on this rough board, secure my $40 cash and make my way back to the humble, little apartment where my wife and I were living.
Like any respectable, up-and-coming sign guy, I was always game for a side job when they came up. A previous, satisfied customer (a transmission shop owner) referred an auto body shop owner to me to paint the company’s name on a large wall. The wall ran parallel to a railroad track and a local street.
I made my way down the wall, rendering 40-in.-tall letters with much aplomb. About two thirds of the way along, I spilled my coffee can of dark brown bulletin enamel on the light tan, colored wall. The concrete block wall absorbed my spilled paint like a sponge. Where’s a “Magic Eraser” when you need one?
It may have been the fault of the 2-foot cut-off chunk of tree that I had been balancing on that led to this minor disaster. (You know how you improvise when you don’t have a ladder.) One can imagine the nice ( though unwanted) shadow that remained on the wall despite my best efforts to clean it off with a fair amount of paint thinner and a couple rags. I don’t recall if they had any of the background paint to hide this issue or whether I offered to touch it up when I finished.
Another recollection was a rather unappetizing rendering that I “executed” ( that’s the appropriate term) for a new customer that I picked up on a little door-to-door introduction to my business. He was just opening a small deli. In my defense; have you ever tried to paint a deli sandwich with fluorescent paints and a sponge brush, in reverse, on the inside of a customer’s window?
It cannot be done. But I pulled it off and walked away $80 richer that day, unsure that my customer was as excited about it as I was. My grandfather saw it later and exclaimed, in his understated way, that it did nothing for his appetite. It may have scared off more potential customers than it brought in.
My first freelance sign job entailed painting sign faces to be installed in a 5-by-28-ft. existing sign cabinet for a new customer. It was 1982. I had just completed several, American western themed, airbrush wall murals at the “Red River Cattle Co.” steak house. My customer inquired of my ability to supply him with new faces for the existing, telescoping pole-mounted sign structure.
At this point in my career I had just enough knowledge to be dangerous, but why would I let that stop me? So, with more balls than brains, I figured out a plan to pull it off. The sign cabinet was 24-ft. off the ground.
The only way I could reach the cabinet to accurately measure it was to climb my extension ladder to the roof of the business then create a plank (like any respectable pirate might use) to reach my sign destination. From there I was able to measure my vertical dimension, but there was no way for me to get the horizontal measurement from that height. No problem, I surmised, I will just “step it off” from the ground.
Needless to say, this measurement was off, but only by a foot or so. Hey—remember that I was only 22 years old at the time.
I ordered the multiple vacuum-formed polycarbonate sign faces for the double-faced sign. This was my first cut-and-spray sign job and it was a success! Except for the measurement.
This was not realized until the sign company that my customer had hired to install the faces slid in the final panel and saw that it was a bit too long. They secured the faces that they had already installed with rope until they could redo the end panels of each side.
So that’s what my customer gets for trying to save some money by hiring me to paint his sign faces. I had actually underpriced the job by at least a thousand dollars, so he still came out ahead.
Well, you live and learn. I guess this is where I say something pithy about perseverance. I guess it works. Forty-five years later I’m a successful, humble (sometimes) sign artist. I have painted thousands of signs—mostly window ads—and actually been paid for them.
I’m sure many others of my generation, have similar “B.C. experiences” (Before Computer). They make you marvel at how we survived, and at times, actually thrived.
Matt Cover’s shop, Cover Custom Signs, is in West Chester, Ohio.
