Saturday, December 13, 2008

My Favorite Monster

One morning, at work, I got called into a meeting with our department head. She wanted us to come up with a segment that features a different kid, every hour of our programming block. We tossed ideas around for a while, and I suggested we do it as a superhero segment.

I like superheroes a lot.

The segment would feature a little cartoon superhero that flies around the screen. Parents would send us pictures of their kids, and we’d put their head on the superhero, while a voice-over talked about what made them so super.

We wanted to call it Captain Canada, but couldn't because it was already copyrighted. The law department suggested a list of names we could use instead.

- Lieutenant Canada
- Lance Corporal Canada
- Captain Moose
- Sgt Beaver.

After we finished laughing at these horrible suggestions, we settled on Kid Canada. A few weeks later, it went up on the air.

It was an instant hit, and I spent the next several weeks with stacks of work on my desk. I was originally doing the voice-over for it, so I had to write all the pertinent info on each kid, plus some fun reason why they were Kid Canada for that hour. Our team had to contact each parent to tell them when their kid’s segment would be appearing. There were thousands of emails to answer, tons of pictures to render, and a buttload of voice-over sessions that made me hoarse. Not to mention the fact that this is preschool television, and viewer mail has to be treated carefully so it doesn't end up in the wrong hands. Writing, rendering, photocopying, filing, voicing. The whole team was up to it's ears in Kid Canada. And it wasn't going to stop.

I thought I had created a monster.

Then came the tour. Every year, our department does an outreach tour. We were a small team, and couldn’t afford a huge staff for it, so I was asked to stage-manage it.

Because of the popularity of Kid Canada, it was chosen the show’s theme. Each kid was given a Kid Canada headband, as they walked in the door. The hosts would be wearing Kid Canada costumes. There was even a little Kid Canada stand in the lobby, for kid's could stick their heads through, and get their picture taken. I was so sick of Kid Canada at this point, that I though I was in for a miserable experience.

But I wasn't. At all.

I got to travel around the country with a really great group of people. Many of whom have become close friends. One of whom has become my girlfriend. We worked hard, played hard, and got to travel to a lot of smaller cities around Canada that I hadn't been to before.

And I got to see the effects of what I was doing, first hand. Each show I got to sit above an audience full of preschoolers laughing at my jokes on a huge video screen, cheer on the hosts I got to write lines for, and pretend to be a superhero I helped create. I got to listen to their parents get them excited about what they had seen, or were about to see. Something I helped make.

It mattered to them in the same way it mattered to me. That meant an awful lot to see.

Our last show was in Moncton, New Brunswick. Because there was always a meet-and-greet and a huge play-centre in the lobby, my tech (Paul) and I often finished packing up the theatre long before we could load anything on the truck. This day, we took advantage of the time by making a beer run, for the post-tour-hotel-room festivities that would inevitably happen.

On the way to the van, we passed a group of little kids jumping around in their headbands, arguing who gets to be Kid Canada, and making up other names about places they knew. There was a Mr. Moncton. A Captain New Brunswick. Some little girl wanted to be Queen Shediac.

I wasn’t the least bit surprised that their list was better than the lawyers'.

Anyway, if any of you have ever wondered...that's why I like childrens' television.



Jim Out.

*I still think a preschool television character named Sgt. Beaver is hilarious.

2 comments:

Robbo said...

When the vacuum bubble of television production gets burst - the real world rushes in - and that's always a good thing.

Sweet stuff, man.

Kristen said...

I hope I feel this way one day.