In the midst of “it’s so over” I found within myself, an invincible “we’re so back.”

Comrades, we have made it out of the trenches—after departing from my beloved last month, I am delighted to publicly announce that I saw my sweet little boy in the flesh. After busting through the door of my childhood home with the same enthusiasm one would expect from a soldier returning from war, the balance of the universe was restored.

With Gator and I together once again, life became glorious in this period of unforgivable despair (seasonal affective disorder girlies rise!). It was at this moment of reunion that I felt unbelievably grateful that I have a cult of Arthurians who share my obsession with feline companionship. 

This is all to say, we are so back and life is beautiful once again … for one singular weekend, that was. With (love) scratches on my hand and orange hair following me back to my hovel in Peterborough, I felt my life once again return to myriad shades of glum and rot. 

To distract myself from the looming despair of November, the Bata Bean quickly became my safe haven. After making my almost daily trip where Patti and I talk nonsensically about Gator for the better part of 10 minutes, the idea for a Gator meet-and-greet was born. Of course, this is easier said than done. My adventure to the Bean is undoubtedly the highlight of my otherwise declining academic passion, and every Gator-enthusiast must prove their worth by chatting with Patti about Trent University's favourite little ginger. 

Back on track … Gator meet-and-greet: you, me, the boy? Kidding! I would not subject my sweet angel to the ruins of this university and disturb his rightful place on the top of my family’s christmas tree. HOWEVER, Gator enthusiast, Len Whittaker, bestowed upon yours truly a bout of inspiration amid this unforgivable academic season.

I present to you, the greatest image I have ever seen: 

While sitting down at this blank document suffering from Gator withdrawals with a long-passed print deadline and enacting my strong editorial powers to push this column back as pagination is well under way, an idea struck me. Call it divine intervention, call it the generous gifts of readers, but I think a friendly contest is among us. 

Len’s work has inspired me to challenge the bright and smooth brained Arthurians to battle it out via unhinged Gator-inspired art. The only requirements are you have to make it yourself (AI is trying to steal my job!), and it has to embody the spirit and ethos of Arthur’s resident little boy—take that how you will.

As mentioned before, the Bata Bean is a frequent stop when I decide to show up for class, and Patti is perhaps the biggest Gator fan among us, who, in showing her love for our favourite little guy, has agreed to hang the winner in the Bata Bean. So, not only will the winning art be published in my next Gator Goes Global, but the Trent University ecosystem will behold the greatest collaboration of the century (Gator x Arthur x YOU!).

I am recognizing the timing of this at first glance with exams, seasonal affective disorder, and general ugh about the world, may come as a somewhat inconvenience. However, if you are like me and will hyper-focus on rather silly tasks to avoid a bigger one at hand, please subject us to your Gator masterpiece to editors@trentarthur.ca (sending me pictures of your little guys is also always welcomed).

I am once again grateful that enough of you freaks allow me to continue with this column that arguably has no point to it and is simply an outlet for me to obsessively talk about my little guy and give my dear friends and co-editors a break from the daily “Gator update”.

As Mistki once again enters my “On Repeat” Spotify playlist and the last of my energy is squeezed out of my brain in the pitch black 4 PM walk home, I accept that this column gets to be insane and unhinged for one issue (as a treat) and I am looking forward to seeing what you all come up with. 

The pain is never ending but Gator Goes Global is forever. Watching the Arthur email fill with photos and stories of Gator look-alike’s and potential suitors for my boy has been the joy of a lifetime—long live our little guy.

Save me Mitski song…Mitski song save me please...