8th gen Honda Civic, Rotterdam, 20080406
Sometimes in my dreams I'm driving one of my past cars. Is that weird?
When I was in primary school, we had this teacher and he made us write down our dreams in the morning when entering class. We got 15 min each morning for it. In the afternoon, he gave us some assignment and he would then go through our notebooks and read our dreams. Sometimes he would discuss a dream with you 1-on-1. That was actually pretty good. He gave us confidence.
He was eccentric to say the least. He always wore black kungfu shoes. In summer and winter. He had long hair. Looking back, I wonder if he had any teaching diploma's at all. 20% of the time he was teaching and 80% of the time we had acting class. That is the reason I am stupid now, I wasn't taught sh!t.
He would make up some story and we were all given a role and we would just 'act' and improvise. All day long! That teacher was the main character of course and he would overact and run through class and cry and yell and have all these emotions and told us it was okay to show our emotions. My classmates went all in and he was loved by the class. I wasn't so sure. I think he was kinderlokker.
When I got home, my mom asked me: 'how was your day?'. Me: "ehhh, we played some Dallas and Dynasty again. I was Blake.".
When it was our birthday, we had to stand on our chair and the class would sing for you and then you got a couple of minutes to show the present that you got for your birthday. So one birthday I got 'Jazz'. The teacher: "I know what this is, you've been dreaming of this Transformer for the entire year haven't you? This a Porsche 935".
I can remember the parents talking to each other: wtf is this guy doing? My kids can't spell, can't write properly, they are stupid AF.
He also had a nickname for everybody. I was 'Soldier'. Then one day he was just gone. He left us stupid but a classmate won a Golden Globe 20 years later. He would be proud.
What is the moral of this anecdote? Nothing, I just loved this automobile.
8th gen Honda Civic, Rotterdam, 20080406
Sometimes in my dreams I'm driving one of my past cars. Is that weird?
When I was in primary school, we had this teacher and he made us write down our dreams in the morning when entering class. We got 15 min each morning for it. In the afternoon, he gave us some assignment and he would then go through our notebooks and read our dreams. Sometimes he would discuss a dream with you 1-on-1. That was actually pretty good. He gave us confidence.
He was eccentric to say the least. He always wore black kungfu shoes. In summer and winter. He had long hair. Looking back, I wonder if he had any teaching diploma's at all. 20% of the time he was teaching and 80% of the time we had acting class. That is the reason I am stupid now, I wasn't taught sh!t.
He would make up some story and we were all given a role and we would just 'act' and improvise. All day long! That teacher was the main character of course and he would overact and run through class and cry and yell and have all these emotions and told us it was okay to show our emotions. My classmates went all in and he was loved by the class. I wasn't so sure. I think he was kinderlokker.
When I got home, my mom asked me: 'how was your day?'. Me: "ehhh, we played some Dallas and Dynasty again. I was Blake.".
When it was our birthday, we had to stand on our chair and the class would sing for you and then you got a couple of minutes to show the present that you got for your birthday. So one birthday I got 'Jazz'. The teacher: "I know what this is, you've been dreaming of this Transformer for the entire year haven't you? This a Porsche 935".
I can remember the parents talking to each other: wtf is this guy doing? My kids can't spell, can't write properly, they are stupid AF.
He also had a nickname for everybody. I was 'Soldier'. Then one day he was just gone. He left us stupid but a classmate won a Golden Globe 20 years later. He would be proud.
What is the moral of this anecdote? Nothing, I just loved this automobile.