I don't know what the hell happened to me really. One day I was a thirty-something divorcee trying not to make any stupid, typical Divorced Errors. I was struggling with low self-esteem and negative thinking, and then - I don't know what hit me - I was watching T.V. with some new friends of mine - huge SciFi fans - and they happened to be watching a Doctor Who episode called Journey's End.
Now, let me be clear: I loved Star Wars as a kid, possibly because I had an older brother, but also because I thought Yoda was awfully cute and wanted to marry him when I grew up. (Yes, I was a strange child) Felt the same way for E.T. However, I was never really a serious SciFi fan.
Then came The Doctor, and my life altered significantly.
I came into the episode right as Donna was realising that there couldn't be a Human/TimeLord Metacrisis and The Doctor was forced to erase her memories.
I was confused.
Who was this Doctor?
Who was Donna? Why would entire planets sing songs about her?
What was a TARDIS?
Mark, old SciFi pro that he is, explained to me a little.
"Doctor Who has been on T.V. in Britian since the nineteen-sixties," he said, trying to be helpful, "The main character, The Doctor, regenerates into a new body every few years, but he's always the same guy. He's like 900-something years old."
"You remember Doctor Who, don't you?" Sheila asked me, "From like the Seventies? The guy with the crazy hair and the long scarf?"
"Maybe..." I said slowly, thinking really not, but not willing to give up on the idea that I should know, somehow. 1963, after all - that's a long time.
I watched the end of the show, The Doctor standing in the rain, his friends all gone and only one old man to remember him, and oddly enough I could relate. I'd lost everything in the divorce - home and friends and even some family - and now I was sort of on my own, fumbling around trying to figure myself out and get some joy out of life.
I didn't see The Good Doctor again for a few weeks. Next time I was at Mark and Sheila's house, Planet of the Dead was playing. Now it seems to me that, based on the buzz online, some people didn't care for that episode because it was lighthearted and didn't take itself too seriously, but in my case I ended up hooked on a T.V. show for the first time since The West Wing went off the air. I was intrigued when Lady Christina asked who The Doctor was and he didn't quite tell her. I was amused that all the military people from UNIT were so respectful and honored to speak with him, while he brushed off the attention and at the same time declared himself modestly to be brilliant.
There was some sort of Marathon running, so that I saw Human Nature, Family of Blood, Utopia, The Sound of Drums, and Last of the Timelords all in one fell swoop. And I couldn't tear my eyes off it. I pitied and understood the unrequited love of Martha Jones. I was so relieved when The Doctor replaced John Smith just in the nick of time to save the world that you'd think he'd been my long lost friend by that time. I got the whole thing with The Master and The FobWatch and the drumbeats, and I was heartbroken right along with The Doctor when his nemesis refused to regenerate rather than spend all eternity with him. I found myself thinking, "I'd spend all eternity with you, Doctor!"
I felt ridiculous, but there was no going back.
I went home and looked Doctor Who up online. I had decided that if I was going to be a fan, I might as well go all-out. In particular I didn't want to be just a David Tennant fangirl. The only thing for it was to know and see all the other Doctors. My favorite site was entitled A Brief History of Time (Travel), a brilliantly organized page clearly produced by a dedicated fan of the show that outlined the entire history the show, episode by episode, Doctor by Doctor. I read the entire thing, finding that there had been ten Doctors so far altogether, with another rumored to be on the way. I wanted to watch every single existing episode in circulation.
In the end I suppose it was the ultimate escape from a grim reality. I found myself looking around for the TARDIS - not really expecting it to materialise for real, just liking the idea. So far as the New Series Companions go, I think Rose was really sweet, and Martha a real firecracker, but it's Donna Noble I understand the best. The idea of not drifting, but waiting. Waiting for a chance to get out there and really meet my full potential, to see the world and make a difference somehow - all the time not certain if I'm good enough, or special enough, and wondering if I should just settle down with someone and make do.
What I see in Doctor Who is the call to live life to its fullest, strive to meet your full potential, do what's right even if no one else can or will, and for heaven's sake have a good time while you're at it. Most of all, it was a very positive show to watch at the most depressing time of my life. It lifted my spirits and made me think life just might be worth exploring further. If The Doctor did exist, I know he'd tell me that I'm brilliant.
Now, let me be clear: I loved Star Wars as a kid, possibly because I had an older brother, but also because I thought Yoda was awfully cute and wanted to marry him when I grew up. (Yes, I was a strange child) Felt the same way for E.T. However, I was never really a serious SciFi fan.
Then came The Doctor, and my life altered significantly.
I came into the episode right as Donna was realising that there couldn't be a Human/TimeLord Metacrisis and The Doctor was forced to erase her memories.
I was confused.
Who was this Doctor?
Who was Donna? Why would entire planets sing songs about her?
What was a TARDIS?
Mark, old SciFi pro that he is, explained to me a little.
"Doctor Who has been on T.V. in Britian since the nineteen-sixties," he said, trying to be helpful, "The main character, The Doctor, regenerates into a new body every few years, but he's always the same guy. He's like 900-something years old."
"You remember Doctor Who, don't you?" Sheila asked me, "From like the Seventies? The guy with the crazy hair and the long scarf?"
"Maybe..." I said slowly, thinking really not, but not willing to give up on the idea that I should know, somehow. 1963, after all - that's a long time.
I watched the end of the show, The Doctor standing in the rain, his friends all gone and only one old man to remember him, and oddly enough I could relate. I'd lost everything in the divorce - home and friends and even some family - and now I was sort of on my own, fumbling around trying to figure myself out and get some joy out of life.
I didn't see The Good Doctor again for a few weeks. Next time I was at Mark and Sheila's house, Planet of the Dead was playing. Now it seems to me that, based on the buzz online, some people didn't care for that episode because it was lighthearted and didn't take itself too seriously, but in my case I ended up hooked on a T.V. show for the first time since The West Wing went off the air. I was intrigued when Lady Christina asked who The Doctor was and he didn't quite tell her. I was amused that all the military people from UNIT were so respectful and honored to speak with him, while he brushed off the attention and at the same time declared himself modestly to be brilliant.
There was some sort of Marathon running, so that I saw Human Nature, Family of Blood, Utopia, The Sound of Drums, and Last of the Timelords all in one fell swoop. And I couldn't tear my eyes off it. I pitied and understood the unrequited love of Martha Jones. I was so relieved when The Doctor replaced John Smith just in the nick of time to save the world that you'd think he'd been my long lost friend by that time. I got the whole thing with The Master and The FobWatch and the drumbeats, and I was heartbroken right along with The Doctor when his nemesis refused to regenerate rather than spend all eternity with him. I found myself thinking, "I'd spend all eternity with you, Doctor!"
I felt ridiculous, but there was no going back.
I went home and looked Doctor Who up online. I had decided that if I was going to be a fan, I might as well go all-out. In particular I didn't want to be just a David Tennant fangirl. The only thing for it was to know and see all the other Doctors. My favorite site was entitled A Brief History of Time (Travel), a brilliantly organized page clearly produced by a dedicated fan of the show that outlined the entire history the show, episode by episode, Doctor by Doctor. I read the entire thing, finding that there had been ten Doctors so far altogether, with another rumored to be on the way. I wanted to watch every single existing episode in circulation.
In the end I suppose it was the ultimate escape from a grim reality. I found myself looking around for the TARDIS - not really expecting it to materialise for real, just liking the idea. So far as the New Series Companions go, I think Rose was really sweet, and Martha a real firecracker, but it's Donna Noble I understand the best. The idea of not drifting, but waiting. Waiting for a chance to get out there and really meet my full potential, to see the world and make a difference somehow - all the time not certain if I'm good enough, or special enough, and wondering if I should just settle down with someone and make do.
What I see in Doctor Who is the call to live life to its fullest, strive to meet your full potential, do what's right even if no one else can or will, and for heaven's sake have a good time while you're at it. Most of all, it was a very positive show to watch at the most depressing time of my life. It lifted my spirits and made me think life just might be worth exploring further. If The Doctor did exist, I know he'd tell me that I'm brilliant.
