Random Erik

When you lose something, or something is destroyed, it helps to say “it’s just a thing.” It’s not like a loved one has died. And its true. But the other morning, I went to put on my VanArts hooded sweatshirt and found odd greasy marks all the way down the front, as if something had dripped on it. A mess. I washed it and it came out with the spots still firmly in place.

“It’s just a thing,” I said, but I was very depressed about it. I bought it when I studied animation in Vancouver… I hadn’t expected to be cold in July and needed another warm piece of clothing. It holds really good memories or working hard on something I love in a room full of interesting people. Every time I touch it, I think about going back to further my animation education and enjoy that beautiful city.

Then I ran across a bottle of Goo Gone, which I bought to remove the sticky stuff left by, well, stickers. And it mentioned clothes and working on oil stains. The stains on my hooded sweatshirt looked like grease or oil. So, worth a try. And it worked, so I’m a happy boy indeed, and have contacted VanArts (The Vancouver Institute of Media Arts, in long form) about getting another sweatshirt as a future backup.

***************We’re off to England on Monday. I love England, I loved living there, and had I not met Maggie and married her, I might still be there. She wanted to live in the States for at least a while, and at the time, I was happy to leave London. I don’t have many regrets about that, and it’s fun to go back.But I hate intercontinental flights. I’m not talking about fear of flying, though I don’t particularly relax during take-off and landing. I’m talking about being cooped up in a small space for 10 hours. I’m talking about having to stand in long lines for the bathroom, and only doing that after maneuvering down a narrow aisle filled with drinks trolleys and people’s feet and other people going to and from my destination. I’m talking about getting your own seat-back movie screen and finding that your choices are the films you didn’t see in the theater but wouldn’t even want to watch if someone handed you the DVD. Then there’s the not being able to get a good night’s sleep thing, and the stale air thing and the ever-present chance of being near screaming children or loud-talking people who actually have nothing to say.

But we’re off to England. Once we get through customs and get to our hotel, I’ll settle back into London and have a good time. We’re also celebrating my mother-in-law’s birthday, a milestone, in her quaint little village (by quaint, read “a pub, post office, a bank without an ATM and an old stone church, plus calling it quaint irritates Maggie”). Then we’ll fly to the Channel Islands for a few days and return home.

Don’t get me started on the return intercontinental flight.

***************We have a beautiful dog. What, exactly, makes a dog beautiful? I don’t really know, but she has long eyelashes and a well formed face and big bright eyes. Living downtown means that she gets to see a lot of people, and she gets told she’s beautiful by a stranger at least once a day. Three times today on her morning walk alone.What do you say when someone tells you your dog is beautiful? “Thank you” is weird, since you don’t have much to do with it (beyond basic grooming). I’ve settled for either “And she knows it” or an ironic “She here’s that every once in a while”. I do take a weird pride in having a dog this beautiful. After all, if someone actually pulls their car over to see her, she must have something special. Maybe I’m just hoping a bit will rub off on me.

***************Just finished two weeks of teaching. I love teaching animation. But I’m exhausted. My younger class was incredibly hyperactive. I’ve taught enough of these classes to know that these kids were way beyond the normal energy levels. And things just got worse every day. For the first time, I found myself as the disciplinarian, ordering kids to their seats, threatening to call parents and forcing them to look me in the eye and listen to me explain why I had a problem with their behavior.Lesson learned. The proverbial hammer has to come out sooner if I sense this kind of dynamic again. I like being Erik, the friendly teacher who wants you to have fun. I want to be that guy. But I have to lock that particular Erik in a closet if necessary.

Thankfully, I had an assistant who’s worked with even younger kids who proved invaluable. But on the last day, there was a hitting incident which fortunately didn’t end in tears or broken bones. I almost wish it had happened before the last day… I could have spoken to the parents and perhaps had the culprit removed from the class. I don’t envy full-time teachers: it’s interesting to see how one or two instigators can bring a full class into pandemonium.

A note to parents: Those shoes with the skate wheels in the heel? Keep them out of the classroom please. I’m just sayin’.

***************Finally, the afternoon class were 12-14 year olds. A completely different world from the 9-11 year olds. Quiet and shy, though most came out of their shells. One funny, clever and talented girl never quite came around with me, and I regret that. It made me remember that age, when I was painfully shy (as opposed to the more achy shy that I am now). To her: Your film made me laugh really hard, and I wish I’d been able to do that sort of work when I was your age.