Lovefool 11.25.13 | Happy Anniversary, Doctor

To celebrate the 50th anniversary of the venerable British sci-fi classic, Lovefool discusses how Doctor Who taught her to keep her feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars.

 

 

 

Sunday is, theoretically, about comics. It’s all about sitting down and reading some comics and then writing about them. Except when it’s not. Last weekend, it was about wishing for the sweet embrace of death because I got slightly intoxicated (read: fairly drunk) at a party and snarfed a dozen li’l smokies wrapped in bacon. Which is all fine and well except I’m a longtime vegetarian and so Sunday morning saw me dehydrated *and* nauseated. I came home from the slumber party I was attending and promptly went back to bed for most of the day. JG,FE was also there so he didn’t say a word and I spent a few days letting my brain reform into something that didn’t go “slosh” when I shook my head.
 
Today, I spent most of the day making an Eighth Doctor costume (gender-swapped, dirty like in “The Night of the Doctor”; you wouldn’t believe the effect I was able to get for a dirty face) for the theatre viewing of “The Day of the Doctor” that I’ll be attending tomorrow and let’s stop right there, shall we?
Because there are few things in the Kingdom of the Nerds this weekend (or this month or possibly even this year) that stand a chance of eclipsing the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who and, to be fair, rightfully so. Craig Ferguson once said that Doctor Who was about the "triumph of intellect and romance over brute force and cynicism" and he’s right. Maybe it’s not kissy-face romance (except, you know, when it is, ROSE + TEN FOREVER), but it’s the even better kind, the kind that lasts forever. It’s a love affair with the universe, if you will.
 
The word "romance" has a secondary definition that the Googles tell me is "a quality or feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life." As a wee thing, I remember watching PBS with my family, way back in the day, and catching the occasional Channel 9 showing of the good Doctor’s adventures. I remember reading the space volume of my books for tiny nerds (not their real title, obviously, but some type of illustrated science-ish type books) and daydreaming about going to the Moon. Lest I discount all sources, though, I also remember seeing Rainbow Brite’s minions stamping out star sprinkles to make the world more colorful. It was always around, outer space, and it’s a terribly big canvas for a little girl to think about.
 
And then I grew up and it was a terribly big canvas, still, and there was so much more to explore, both about space and the Doctor, from the Hubble telescope to my local comic shop and I’ve never stopped. I don’t want to.
 
I’ll never know how all of that meshed in my brain to create a woman obsessed with looking up, but I’m grateful for it. When I think about all the key moments of my life, the moments that made me who I am today, I think of a lot of things but one of them is always that little girl reading about the stars. So perhaps I was predisposed to nerdiness, perhaps there was merely a nearly unavoidable path to being the person I am today, making it a case of six of one, half-dozen of the other, but I’m grateful for Doctor Who’s resurgence into pop culture. I love the idea of a whole new generation watching with their parents, hiding behind that proverbial couch and learning to always look up. Except, unlike me, maybe they’ll also learn to look around once in a while.
 
See you next week, nerdlings. Spare a moment for the sky this week, amongst all your earthly concerns. | Erin Jameson

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