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Sketches, Scribbles, and Sharings by Illustrator and Google Doodler, Mike Dutton.

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Random 23-year old memories from visiting my old middle school, Fitch (now Seaside) while passing through Marina and Fort Ord, CA.
My friends and I hung out behind the auditorium during our breaks. I was the uncool kid of the bunch, who’d wipe his nose on the cuff of the sleeve of his knock-off 49er jacket.
I bricked lay-ups but thought I could become the next John Paxson. Phil and Nick often reminded me that I didn’t make the basketball team.
My best friend, Joseph, used to give me gifts, then reclaim them. He was the repo-man of presents. Until the time he took my favorite pen. I decided to punch him a few times during fourth period Earth Science and Dr. Powers had to pull us apart. Joe handed my pen back while we waited outside of the principal’s office. 
There was one kid at school everyone called Bush. He had an extraordinarily large head. Over the weekend, Bush swam a little too far out from the oceanside rec center and drowned, and on Monday I learned his name was Charles.
It was the year we pegged our jeans.

Random 23-year old memories from visiting my old middle school, Fitch (now Seaside) while passing through Marina and Fort Ord, CA.

My friends and I hung out behind the auditorium during our breaks. I was the uncool kid of the bunch, who’d wipe his nose on the cuff of the sleeve of his knock-off 49er jacket.

I bricked lay-ups but thought I could become the next John Paxson. Phil and Nick often reminded me that I didn’t make the basketball team.

My best friend, Joseph, used to give me gifts, then reclaim them. He was the repo-man of presents. Until the time he took my favorite pen. I decided to punch him a few times during fourth period Earth Science and Dr. Powers had to pull us apart. Joe handed my pen back while we waited outside of the principal’s office. 

There was one kid at school everyone called Bush. He had an extraordinarily large head. Over the weekend, Bush swam a little too far out from the oceanside rec center and drowned, and on Monday I learned his name was Charles.

It was the year we pegged our jeans.

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