DUNCANRIG DOUGIE - A TRIBUTE...

So far on this blog I've related a couple of anecdotes about two of my old art teachers, Mr. BOB BELL and Mr. SLOSS, with a passing  reference to Mr. McLEAN along the way.

Now it's time to draw back the curtain and introduce yet another teacher from the dim and distant days of my youth; so let's have a big hand for Mr. DOUGIE SMITH, one of the more popular teachers at DUNCANRIG SENIOR SEC-ONDARY.  Not that any pupil ever dared call him Dougie to his face as far as I know, but that was how they affectionately referred to him throughout the school.

Mr. Smith's classroom under fire-escape stairway

You know that sense of amazement one feels when, years after having left school, you see a teacher who doesn't seem to have aged in the slightest since you were a kid?  When you're a youngster, anyone over 21 seems older than they actually are, which probably accounts for my inability to supply an accurate assessment of what age Mr. Smith would've been back in the early '70s.  He could have been anything from 35-45, but it'd be pointless trying to narrow it down any further because I simply don't have a clue.  Not that it's important I suppose, but I like to give my readers (both of them) a fully rounded picture of the subject under discussion.



Mr. Smith's old Maths class in 2007.  By the looks of things, at some point the room
had been opened up at the front and extended out into part of the hallway...



Anyway, Mr. Smith was blond-haired and what I assume would be regarded by the fairer sex as a fairly handsome Maths teacher who, like many another teacher at that time, still wore the classic bat-like gown as immortalised by Mr. CREEP in the WINKER WATSON strip in The DANDY.  I seem to recall him also wearing the mortarboard hat on occasion, but quite possibly I'm imagining it. (Although as he had the gown he would most likely have had the hat too, one would presume.)  The fact that teachers still wore such traditional educational apparel most likely accounts for why I never found strips like BILLY BUNTER or the aforementioned Winker to appear outdated - it was yet an everyday sight that didn't appear unusual in the slightest. 



...and how it would've looked in my day



As the saying goes, Mr. Smith was a 'good egg'.  I remember him telling me one day, "Gordon, some of the other teachers say that they regard you as a difficult pupil, but I find that as long as I don't try and make you do anything you don't want to, then you're no trouble at all."

Which is not to suggest that I was a troublemaker of any sort, but I was a daydreamer.  If I wasn't doodling on the covers or margins of my school jotters then I was staring out a window off into space, lost in my own little world.  Mr. Smith was wise enough to realize that it was better to leave me there, rather than try and compel me to apply myself to a subject I had no interest in, or, indeed, aptitude for.  Unlike another teacher (whose name escapes me, otherwise I would readily identify the guilty party), who once gave me 'six of the best' for my inability to master the intricacies of an Algebra equation.

View from one of the windows

But now to the point of this tale.  ("At last!" cry those who haven't yet abandoned the arduous trek.)  Mr. Smith, if I remember the details correctly after almost 40 years, was in charge of producing a Maths booklet for use in schools throughout what was then known as The COUNTY COUNCIL Of LANARKSHIRE.  He asked if I'd provide some cartoon illustrations for said project, and I didn't need to be asked twice.  It took a few days for him to determine precisely where my artwork would be required, but once armed with the necessary information I got to work.

A week or two later and much to my surprise, he presented me with an envelope containing a whopping £5 (which was a lot of money to a 14-15 year old at the start of the '70s) as payment for my contribution.  "It comes out of the budget" he said, by way of explanation - though I wouldn't be at all surprised if it came out of his own pocket.

The picture (from an initial 'rough) inspired by one below



I was especially proud of one picture in particular, and had it specifically in mind when I produced my KEVIN & His TALKING SOCKS strip for possible inclusion in a comic called OINK!  A period of a dozen or so years lay between the execution of these two drawings, which, as I relate this, strikes me as requiring further, completely unnecessary, long-winded exposition.  (Even if that last sen-tence is a total contradiction-in-terms.)

Back in 1985/'86, my schooldays seemed like an inordinately long time past.  It was practically half my life away after all, which probably accounts for that particular period appearing almost prehistoric from my mid-'80s perspective. Nowadays, however, anything that happened 10 or 12 years back seems to have occurred no more than two or three years ago at the very most.  It's scary to consider that the quarter of a century gap between 1986 and today doesn't feel anywhere near as long as the far shorter (almost by half) period between 1973 and 1986.  Yup, it really is true;  time seems to go by faster the older one gets.

Not having a photo of Mr. Smith, one of comic artist
supreme George Tuska will have to suffice.  To my
mind, they were extremely similar in appearance

Anyway, returning to the point of this personal reminiscence before even I lose track, a belated thank you is long overdue to Mr. Smith for giving me what could be described as my very first paid 'professional' assignment - and for simply being such a thoroughly decent bloke.  He's probably been retired for some years now, but it would be nice to think that he might in some way hear of this 'tribute' to him and be touched by it.  Knowing you made a difference to someone's life can sometimes make a difference to your own.

Here's to you, Dougie.  Hope you're hale and hearty.

******

And below, in all their unretouched glory, are the four illustrations drawn with a black ink BIC biro in a blank jotter on a lazy afternoon in Mr. Smith's Maths class all those years ago.  Nothing brilliant by any means, but while I indulged myself, my classmates had to get on with doing their sums.  I wonder if I'm the only pupil ever to get paid for doing something else during school hours?

(Actually, now that I think about it, I remember finishing the fourth one at home, so the Maths period must have been the last one of the afternoon.)

******

FOOTNOTE:  Since first posting this, I've been beset by a nagging suspicion that I may have misremembered the amount of renumeration involved.  Perhaps it was only £2 and not £5 in that envelope.  However, if so - two quid was still a lot of money for young teenager back then.  Especially as I mostly earned it during school hours when I should've been doing something else.