in the typical boom/bust cycle our small oil town was experiencing and the sign had dulled and weathered some from sun and dust and sand storms. So I was assigned to refresh it while I was home for the summer break. All the paint stuff was in the trunk of dad's late model four door Cadillac and I was in my house painting grubby clothes. The sign was on the corner at the intersection of the town's main street/highway and the "by pass" loop so there was quite a bit of traffic. I had put a coat of white over the whole sign panel but the red and black brush painted lettering was still faintly apparent so I was just repainting over them when a city police car pulled up and the guy got out, paused, looked at me, looked at the Cadillac, repeated this a couple more times, then walked up to me and although I was a college freshman I was just 95 pounds, 5'-1" and looked about 14 years old. He then looked at the Cadillac with the open trunk, the white painted over sign, the brush in my hand with red paint on it and the bucket of paint at my feet, then back up at me and then with a quizzical look on his face and sound in his voice he finally spoke and said, "What are you doing?" Keeping a straight look on my face I said, "Painting this sign." After a brief pause, I relented and told him what the deal was he gave a little nod and said, "Okay" then still looking a bit unconvinced that he was not hallucinating, he walked back over to his patrol car and drove away. All very polite and business like, but still apparently wondering a bit just how all those images fit together.