Sandra recieved an unexpected phone call while I was out seeing Corpse Bride (which was delightful, except for the part where juvenile delinquents threw bits of ceiling tile into the theater, no, I’m not making that up). Apparently one of the local charter schools is forcing their students out into the wide world as interns for a couple of days. The mother of one of these high school kids managed to Google me as a “cartoonist” living in “Orem.” One local telephone call later, she reached Sandra.
Okay, an intern RARELY gets to do anything interesting — even “real” interns from collegiate programs often get relegated to the snack-fetch-itorial field. A high-school level intern is, in fairness, likely to be little more than an observer in whatever business he visits.
In most businesses this would be annoying. Me, though, I thrive on attention. Now factor in the following: the young man who wishes for a two-day internship with me has some Photoshop skill. I bet I can get a week of strips flood-filled for free. In exchange, I’ll have somebody looking over my shoulder while I pencil and ink, and I’ve found that always makes me work harder.
I’m looking forward to it. Besides, for a few hours, I’ll be able to guarantee that at least one of America’s Youth is not throwing bits of ceiling tile into movie theaters.