A sign is a business’ 24-hour-a-day ad. Done well, it will attract and increase traffic. And done poorly, it will keep customers away. Or it will keep me away at least.

You see, I am obsessed with signage. Maybe I should pay more attention to the road while I’m driving, instead of looking at every sign as I pass by and analyzing it to the point where it makes me crazy. And there’s a lot in this town to make me crazy.

First off, I think we can all agree that vinyl banners are atrocious. They say, “I don’t care enough about you to get a real sign made, but patronize my business anyway."

The whole time that SkyBar on Montrose was open, the owners never invested in a real sign. It was a crappy vinyl banner that was stretched over the old Cody’s sign. It made me furious every time I would leave the Starbucks across the street. That tragic vinyl would smirk at me, hissing “F.U. buddy.” I’ll tell you what, I never darkened SkyBar’s door.

The usage of brush script as a typeface is another problem. I guess it’s supposed to look carefree and casual, but it really communicates laziness and lack of creative ambition. It’s also dated, like something you’d see on an airbrushed T-shirt from Spencer’s.

You can find this typographic abomination at locations ranging from Soundwaves to Trinity Lutheran Church downtown. It’s the visual equivalent of driving a Ford Tempo. It says, “Yeah, I gave up.”

Texas Art Supply arguably has one of the worst signs in the whole city. It’s especially painful given their line of business. Recently, they debuted a new sign design that is even worse than the old one, which is unbelievable.

It’s like they found some clip art from 1977 and just sent it off to Signarama for production. Nothing against Signarama — they do beautiful work.

Given these tough economic times and the debt debates in Washington, it’s especially offensive to see tax dollars spent on signs with mistakes or typos. At the corner of Montrose and Alabama, you’ll see a sign for the “Houston Center For Photography Center.” Really? So nowhere during the design, production or installation phase did anyone think that sounded weird?

Even worse, take a stroll along Fulton and you’ll come to the Irvington Village public housing project. Except that the giant sign on the “administration” building reads “Irvinton Village.” So these “administrators," walking into the building every day, never look up and think, “Hmm, I think a ‘g’ is missing from our sign.”

Every time I see this I vow to call the city but I never follow through. It makes me furious.

There are plenty of great signs, too, in Houston. I’m really excited about the new sign for Coppa going up where Catalan used to be on Washington. Rumor has it the sign is composed of LED lights that can be programmed to change color depending on the holiday or season or event (red for Valentine’s Day, etc.).

But then what else would you expect from owners Charles Clark and Grant Cooper, who just scored another design hit with the identity and signage for Brasserie 19? Brasserie’s typography is simple and gorgeous.

And over at the Tower Theater on Westheimer, the owners of El Real — Bill Floyd, Bryan Caswell and Robb Walsh — have not only restored and modernized the classic theater marquee, but actually had the side of the building hand painted with the restaurant’s name.

Do you know what a dying art sign-painting is? How time-consuming and precise? It’s nothing short of fantastic and I for one appreciate their efforts to keep aesthetic standards high.

After all, I can’t do it alone!