Isn't it odd how Doctor Who just seems to be part of
your life now? How it's like, family?
I first saw the programme back in 1982, I think... I think. I've always
said my first memory is of Logopolis, and based on utterly more vague
memories of the whole of Season 19, I'm guessing that it was the Five
Faces of Doctor Who repeat of Low-go-pow-liss (as I thought it was
pronounced for a decade) in which I first saw this programme that has been
a part of my life, on and off, ever since.
1982 - what is there to remember if you're nearly six? Bugger all, really.
Pretty much everything from this era is based on pictures of me with a
dreadful haircut and driving a pedal-driven toy car on the small concrete
bit at the back of my garden. The bit upon which I was photographed
driving on is now gone, with a utility room and a room for a piano built
atop it. The garden has changed, the garden wall has changed, pretty much
everything from this small backyard play area has fallen victim to the
passing of time. And not just the physicality that surrounds the image in
my head of a photo that may or may not have been taken at about this time.
My family has changed; My parents are older and a bit grey-er, even though
in many ways to me they're precisely the same as they've always been,
except that through years of adolescence, teenage angst, and finally,
something resembling adulthood, I've come to love them and care for them
and worry about them a lot more. I remember some bad times, particularly
arguing with the old boy, and yet now I don't know where I'd be without
his love of cricket, rugby, and Tony Hancock, and his utterly awful sense
of humour that I seem to have inherited. Oddly, somewhere inbetween me
moving out for the final time and his retirement, we've both picked up a
fascination with crosswords - mine came from boring days at work and
somebody always having a copy of The Sun to hand. I think his came from
slightly more noble means, but still, every time I go to see my parents,
we battle the Guardian crossword and still my Dad comes third in the race
to finish it - I'll always get a few, but my Mum beats us both hollow.
My mum. God bless my mother. Even though ninety nine point nine recurring
percent of the world loves their mum, and I wholly concur with them, I
just wanted to mention how wonderful and witty and funny Christine Lewis
is. I can't believe I've turned a thread about a TV show into an essay
about my family and my life, so I'd better mention the utterly wonderful
Doctor Who birthday cake she made for my brother's <insert age here>
birthday cake. It was a TARDIS, with Dalek accompaniments, so marvellous
that maybe one day I'll be able to stick a picture of it on the internet
somewhere for people to marvel at. It was merely one culinary marvel among
many others that she made - The Dukes Of Hazzard and Star Wars are two
others that spring to mind now - and now I'm almost jealous that it was my
brother's, not mine. Simply because I can't say, "here's me Doctor 'Oo
birthday cake what me mum made". Forever and beyond, she's been on my
side, despite the numerous fuck ups in my life that I've made. When I've
been depressed and beyond depressed, she's been my best mate; when I've
moved home because my ventures for making my life perfect have failed,
she's been there, reading the same books that I read, finding the same old
shit funny that I find funny, and looking after me. I'm paying her this
tribute now because, sadly, I can't pay it to her in person - It wouldn't
seem appropriate in our family to do so, even though I really hope she
knows I love her to bits.
The weird "don't talk about it" mentality of our family has been tested in
the last year or so. My sister, half way through her degree, became
pregnant, and is now the proud mother of James, who is, quite obviously
(and I tremble at the thought) my nephew. Maybe it's the whole concept of
bringing people into the world, maybe it's the whole propagation of "your"
genes into this world, but I was knocked for six when I realised that
there's a new generation of my family in this world. The whole family was
together at my Grandad's funeral earlier this year, and it was perhaps
comforting that, among the unhappiness of losing someone, there was
somebody to take his place. That could be a load of old bollocks, but it
makes sense to me now. Certainly, the whole event of the funeral brought
our family together in a way that it hasn't been together for many, many
years. I hadn't seen my grandparents in years, and to go back to the house
I spent many holidays in upon such a sad occasion was both wonderful and
awful - the fact that things are gone and can't be brought back was
terrible, but the fact that there were many happy memories there that will
always exist, was something and is something I won't forget. One of them
was seeing my brother, sat in the tree in my grandparents back garden,
that we used to play in together as kids.
My brother is something of a musical prodigy, and a great intellectual. He
is teetering around being a Doctor of Philosophy, lives in Coventry, and
has recently lectured at the University of Warwick, if I recall correctly.
He's a really great bloke, and my great regret is that we're not as close
as we ought to be. Like my relationship with my sister, it's purely
functional, and it was only at the aforementioned funeral that we even
spoke about the life together we shared - we certainly didn't talk about
the years we've spent apart.
But I've talked too much about family, and not enough about Doctor Who,
which is something I ought to come back onto right about now. Michael (me
bro) was quite possibly, if I recall correctly, a contemporary of Si Hunt
at that Uni, and his tenure there may well have coincided with that of
Lissa Levesque as well. It means nothing per se, but they are two people
whom I have grown to like a great deal, even though I've never met them.
Simply through conversing with them through websites, message boards, and
through MSN Messenger, I've made friends with them, even though we've
never encountered each other in the real world. Likewise, I feel I've made
some real friendships with Heather Lawrence, Simon Rayner, Mat Denney, Jim
Robson, Dave Taylor, Carol Baynes, Phil Madeley, Si Hart, and Ant
Williams, all of whom I've conversed with over the internet to varying
degrees, and had a laugh with, and talked with about a multitude of
things.
And how do I know all these people? Through a love of a television
programme that to all intents and purposes disappeared from the public
consciousness in 1989, and has only once raised its head above the general
parapet of consciousness back in 1996, even though to everyone in the
know, it's never been away, and never will go away.
So I'd like to end this waffle by raising a glass of something or other to
my family, who all know about Doctor Who, and have watched it with me,
bought me videos, or have merely laughed at a few in-jokes. But even more
so, I'd like to offer love and big hugs to all the people I mentioned in
the last paragraph, who are all wonderful and are truly marvellous people.
I'd also like to doff my cap to everyone else on Planet Skaro, who I've
conversed with either in occasional Messenger conversations, or through
regular banter on that message board, or on BBCi, or elsewhere.
You see, the thing is, I feel like everyone here is part of a family.
Yeah, I don't see everyone regularly, yeah, some people I only vaguely or
rarely converse with. But hell, that's family. That, I guess is being a
Doctor Who fan who knows lots of other Doctor Who fans. You're all part of
a family to me, and I hope everyone's had a lovely day on this
anniversary.
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