Cheap software can be your best investment
Navigating the creative world with wide open eyes
This is a TBM (Throwback Monday—I make my own rules). While looking for some business expense documents on my Google Drive, I stumbled across an old article I wrote a dozen years ago that I thought might be an interesting backstory into the life of Dave.
I spent much time chasing pipe dreams and bad decisions in my early professional life. I did my fair share of retail and desk jobs, but I never felt like I fit in the confines of a typical work environment. To beat back the demons of career monotony, I tried to find ways out of the daily struggle to provide a working life that allowed for my own rules. I didn’t know it then, but this was my entrepreneurial spirit talking to me. However, this isn’t about me being an entrepreneur.
When I wasn’t working at some dead-end job, waiting to quit or get fired, I would spend my time perusing copies of business and entrepreneurial magazines, all of which gave me the impression that I wasn’t living life to my full potential unless I spent my life working for myself. The backs of the magazines were filled with one outrageous business opportunity after another, each sounding a little more enticing and a bit more insane than the next. I gazed upon page after page of the promise of these opportunities.
The magazine has changed a lot since then, but decades ago, it was filled with countless new business opportunities that had me dreaming of a better life. It gave me visions of doing what I wanted with my life instead of what some boss-man ordered me to do.
One of those business opportunities was a fledgling niche that was starting to gain popularity—windshield repair. Now, that may sound like a complete struggle from the outside, and you’d be correct, but to a starry-eyed kid hunting for money trees, it sounded like an excellent opportunity to learn a skill, be my own boss, and harvest some greenbacks. It also helped that the buy-in to the program and equipment was reasonably cheap compared to other business opportunities.
After considering it for a few weeks, I finally decided to purchase the equipment and my license to print money—at least, that’s what I thought I was getting.
When the shipment arrived, I couldn’t be happier. Many entrepreneurs say that the two best days in your business are the day you begin and the day you quit. I didn’t know this adage yet, so I was coveting all this shiny new equipment as if I’d stumbled on King Solomon’s mine. Now, I just needed to learn how to use it.
The paperwork instructed that I call the company immediately to have my orientation over the phone and schedule my in-person training. I got orientated and planned to attend a training seminar in my area in a few weeks. In the interim, I bided my time by trying to do things that felt businessy. I came up with a clever business name: Busted Windshield Repair.
I took that information and filed a DBA with the county. I took that information to my local bank and started a business checking account, handing over $500 cash to the manager.
The accounts manager ordered me some extensive business checks that come in a perforated sheet of three apiece. I remember the day they arrived in the mail; I smiled ear to ear because this meant I was officially in business for myself. The fact that I couldn’t do any actual work in my business yet was a minor detail I would rectify soon enough.
I drove directly from the bank to the local copy center to buy new business cards. If a checking account didn’t make me feel like a businessman, having business cards would.
I walked up to the counter, head held high, and asked the clerk about the business card services. She pointed me to a large folder on the counter that gave all the paper and style options they had available. The choices were not as fancy as I had imagined, and I was a bit disappointed, but I resigned myself to the idea that these would only be my first set of cards and I could improve upon this once I made my first million.
The clerk told me that if I didn’t like those style options, I could sit down with their desktop publishing professional, and he could design something. The clerk flipped the page on the folder to show me some design samples they had done before, and I was redeemed. These new designs aligned with my thinking—custom, creative options with real personality.
I asked what the cost of desktop publishing was, and she told me they charged by the hour. The average price for business cards was around $200 to $400, plus the cost of printing. I nearly fell backward from the news. Sure, I could afford the design fee, but I wouldn’t have much money left for other expenses, which I knew were inevitable. There was just no way I could risk that much money on a business card.
Hanging my head, I told the clerk I’d think about it and made my retreat to the parking lot defeated. I knew I would end up with one of those horrible business card designs, and that thought took the rest of the wind out of my sales. To make myself feel better, I visited the local computer store and looked at the latest video game software. Why not?
I didn’t have money for a custom business card design, but I had enough to buy Castle Wolfenstein with plenty of money left over. I could drown my sorrows in pixelated gunfire.
As I walked through the store, I noticed they had a graphics and desktop publishing software section. Intrigued, I decided to investigate further. I didn’t know much about these programs, but I had heard the name CorelDraw before, one of the software packages on the shelf. It enticed me with all the vibrant colors on the box and teased me with the countless free graphics that came with the program.
I looked at the price tag, and it was $120. I thought that was a lot of money for software, and I could almost feel the buyer’s remorse even before I made the purchase. I had recently upgraded to Windows 95, which was the juggernaut of software back then, and even it was less than $100. Buying CorelDraw better be the best damn software purchase on the planet for that price.
I rationalized that $120 was still less than $400 for custom design services, and I was confident I could work this software well enough to create an image suitable for a business card.
That was all the self-assurance I needed, so I snatched the box under my arm and headed for the check-out counter. If buying my way into the windshield repair business was the best investment I’d ever made, this software was the second best, or so I thought.
I went home and immediately loaded the software, which took a long time because of all the diskettes required for installation. An hour later, I had one of the most powerful graphics programs on my PC, and I was ready to make windshield repair business history.
Over the next several hours, I noodled around with a business card design until I felt satisfied. The concept was simple—the world BUSTED typed out in a bold, narrow font, probably Impact. Then, I drew a star pattern of lines that radiated out from the design, resembling chipped glass spidering out to the edges of the letters.
I wish I still had that design today, but I didn’t know what archiving content for posterity meant back then. The design was probably terrible compared to what I can manage today, but I still believe my concept was solid and worthy of note.
When I finished, I took the design back to the copy center to have it reproduced onto a business card. The clerk asked me who did the design. I smiled as I told her I did it. She gave me a look somewhere between surprise and approval, which made me beam with pride even more. I ordered the design in black on a light gray paper stock with a slightly speckled look. It looked like stone than glass, but it would do the job.
A week later, after getting off work from my day job, there was a message on the answering machine. The clerk called to tell me my cards were done, and they looked delicious. Without hesitation, I turned and headed out the door to get my order. I bubbled over with excitement as I drove to the shop, and when I entered the door to the copy center, I walked in like a champion of the arena.
The clerk was at the front desk with what looked like her manager. She smiled as she saw me. “The cards look great. I think you’re going to love them.” She reached under the counter and pulled out a small, rectangular box.
The manager looked at her and then at the box with one of the cards attached to the top. “That’s a nice card,” he said. Did our guy do that?”
“Nope, I made it,” I said proudly.
“That’s nice work. Are you a graphic designer?”
I’m sure I had achieved a full-blown, confused dog look on my face while I shook my head and told him I wasn’t. I didn’t even know what a graphic designer was. I just had some software that I barely knew how to use. I shrugged, “I got lucky, I guess.”
“That’s better than just lucky. That’s good for a first attempt. You know, we could use another desktop publisher here. Maybe you’d be interested in applying for the job. It pays $7 an hour.”
At the time, that was decent money for a retail job. I paused at the idea momentarily but returned, “Thanks, but I’m starting my own business. That’s what these cards are for.” I paid my bill, thanked them, and walked out with my treasure. The world was a beautiful place that day.
A week later, I attended the training seminar in a neighboring town, and although I had a hard time fixing the practice windshields, I still felt accomplished that I was learning a new trade. I shared my business card with other trainees when the group broke for lunch. They thought the cards looked great. I didn’t tell them I made them but relished in the approval silently to myself. That would be the last celebration, though.
A few months later, BUSTED was busted. I was out of my seed money and had no clients. I may have had a lot of ambition, but I knew little about marketing and promotion. I had read Guerrilla Marketing by J. Conrad Levinson, which I thought would make me an easy winner, but the business of selling windshield repair to people was not as accessible as I had hoped. People didn’t understand the value when the cost of glass was so cheap in comparison. I wasn’t very good at selling; honestly, I didn’t want to be good at it. I didn’t want to be repairing windshields.
I put the equipment in the back of the closet and shut down my flash-in-the-pan business. I mostly filled my spare time with video games, but I would occasionally mess around with CorelDraw when bored. I immensely enjoyed that program, messing around with stock graphics and designing mock logos.
During my time with BUSTED, a friend from my day job said he liked my business card and asked if I’d help him make a logo for his band. We played around with it and finally gave him a design he felt was worthy. I didn’t love it, but it wasn’t my type of music, and I didn’t have enough time to make it good. It was still fun, though, and he loved the design.
I thought about what the copy center manager had told me about a job as a desktop publisher. I called him up and tried to remind him of who I was. I told him about the business card design, and reminded him of the job offer, but he told me they had long filled the position. He asked what happened to my business, and I told him I was meant to do something else. He agreed and wished me luck.
Before getting off the call, the manager told me that if I wanted to pursue design, I should look into doing certificate training for desktop publishing. That would give me a better chance of finding a job in that field. I thanked him for that nugget of wisdom and did a little research. I found a few local classes, but I couldn’t afford them now that my money was all gone. My day job kept me fed and a roof over my head, but not much more. That was about to change soon, too.
I got fired from the menial day job, mostly because I did not care about it anymore but also because I got busted flirting with a girl the owner liked for himself. He told me it was sexual harassment and that he couldn’t have it in his business unless it were him doing the harassment, I suppose.
I couldn’t find new work immediately, so I had to move back in with my family. When I found work again, I stayed home and returned to school for art instead of moving out. I finally realized that I enjoyed creative work and that it was time to pursue it more.
Starting at the community college level, I eventually transferred to a trade school for graphic design. That was the beginning of my new life as a creative professional, and I’ve never regretted that decision for even a minute.
I’ve worked as a production designer, advertising specialist, magazine art director, and freelance designer. Even though I’m not doing design work as a profession now, opting for a fine art and writing career instead, I believe my time as a designer made me a better human. It helped me understand the intricacies of creativity, from the broad spectrum of idea generation to the refinement of tweaking pixels. I wouldn’t be the artist I am today if not for my design experience, and if I had any regrets, it would only be that I wished I had found graphic design earlier in life.