A couple of things hit me tonight: First, I’ve never written anything about my experience in Cebu last October, which is a travesty. Second, I’ve never written anything about Dr. Who, which is near an unforgivable sin.
(Above: Billie Piper and David Tennant, the 10th Doctor)
As I was about to leave for Cebu, October 2nd 2012, I noted my wife wasn’t speaking to me. I was about to fly halfway around the world (12 hour time difference) and leave her holding the bag: Three kids. New house with a mold problem. New middle schooler.
Not. Good.
I had, at least, figured out that Amazon gave away streaming video to every Amazon Prime member, and set-up both our Blu-Ray player and the piddly Vizio flatscreen upstairs keyed to our account. I noted on the penultimate night of my residence in North America that she’d idly looked-up Dr. Who.
“You realize there are like 50 years worth of these things, right?” I asked. Control freak that I am, I didn’t want to live through another binge like Angel where we both hated it and watched it just….because we’re completionists.
“Mrhfm.” Oh right, she wasn’t really speaking to me. Back to packing.
…4 weeks elapse….
I come home to find Whitney amid the 6th Series of the modern Dr. Who, and I’m utterly lost. She’s rabid–2, 3 episodes per night. Driven! I know the tropes of Who: He’s an alien, he changes faces whenever the actor quits he regenerates, and his Police Box, the TARDIS, is a time and space ship. Aside from that, and lots of quaint British English (Oh, ‘chips’ are fries!) I have no idea what I’m watching.
Then, I watched The Girl in the Fireplace.
Holy crap, can these guys tell a story. When Pompador and the Doctor stood in Versailles and looked out on the stars, the depth was great. I got a glimpse of the Doctor’s nuance there, and I was hooked. I started back from Ecclestone’s “I’m the Doctor. Now run!” and got all the way to Matt Smith’s quirkiness and the Ponds.
Today, my shower curtain is a Dalek with the caption “Exfoliate!”
My eldest daughter asked for a Sonic Screwdriver for her 6th birthday. The back of my wife’s Fusion sports 5 stickers: Davros, a Weeping Angel, a Cyberman, and two Daleks with bows in their hair. That’s our “family portrait.”
I’m a Whovian, and no matter what the 12th Doctor holds, I’ve appreciated everything the new series has offered. It’s better than Trek ever was for me; instead of a story about humanity reaching aliens, it’s the story of an alien who guards humanity, amid all our failings. Somehow, that alien’s story is much more human than Trek ever achieved.