Farewell Matt Smith

Doctor Who fans – if you haven’t yet watched ‘The Time of the Doctor”, this post contains spoilers.

 

Tom Baker was my first doctor. The one who I watched on PBS as a teenager in the 80’s. His slouchy hat, his curly hair, and that fantastic scarf. His big blue eyes. Now, on occasion, I like to check out his website and admire the photos he shares of his pets.

Then after E. and I got married, Doctor Who was back again and Christopher Eccleston was the Doctor. Not my favorite. I watched though, because it was Doctor Who. And then something special happened. David Tennant became the Doctor and what a joy he was to behold as the Doctor. I was heartbroken when he left.

Matt Smith arrived on the scene, a doctor younger than me – that was a little strange, but I quickly fell for his quirkiness, his charm, his wonderful way with children, the fantastic chemistry he and Karen Gillan had, the love between him and River, and that smile that just told you he was having a blast. My 8 year old fell in love with Matt Smith’s Doctor and is beyond distraught that he has left. She cried and cried and wrote a fervent plea to Matt Smith to return as the Doctor. I’ve thought about mailing it to him, care of, his manager/agent/person, but I haven’t yet.

E. had to work on the twenty fifth, so we celebrated our Christmas on the twenty sixth. After stockings were emptied, and presents unwrapped, after a relaxing sit down dinner, we watched “The Time of the Doctor” and I lost it when he said, “I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear,”  and “I will always remember when the Doctor was me.”. And then when Amy reappeared, touched his face and murmured “Raggedy Man. Goodnight.”

 

1526955_602966859758009_1195788224_n

 

On that note, I end this one. We greatly enjoyed your time as the Doctor, Matt Smith, and there is at least one 8 year old who misses you desperately.

 

Doctor Who and a happy belated birthday to both the late Douglas Adams and James Taylor

Very shortly before we got married my husband bought me a copy of Douglas Adams’s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy for my birthday. I finished reading John Irving’s A Widow for One Year and asked him to read it. We’ve been married over eight years now and he’s never read A Widow for One Year and in return, I’ve never read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. It’s a horrible thing, isn’t it? I certainly wouldn’t say it’s a power struggle or anything any where near as nefarious, he simply doesn’t have much interest in reading John Irving, and my tastes have never run toward sci-fi. Although I love Doctor Who, absolutely.

Image

    The Doctor that I grew up knowing was Tom Baker, I remember all the repeats that PBS used to show and can remember the scarf andTom Baker’s curly hair as well as any other vivid childhood memory. When my husband and I got married, we watched together, the actor playing the Doctor then was Christopher Eccleston and once David Tennant replaced him, I didn’t like David Tennant as the Doctor after Christopher Eccleson left but then I grew to adore David Tennant and was disappointed when he left and swore to my husband that I would never like Matt Smith as the Doctor and that was that. Now, of course, I loveMatt Smith and I’m sure the cycle will continue. It takes me a few episodes to get into the swing with the new Doctor, but once I do, well, I can barely imagine anyone else portraying him.

The new season of Doctor Who begins next month and I am so excited I can barely wait.  I’m thinking of baking cookies or cupcakes to commemorate the event. And yes, it does seem that I don’t have enough things in my life to look forward to, doesn’t it? It makes me feel awful, especially since I always used to cringe every single year my mother would go to the most awful bakery I’ve ever had the displeasure of eating at and pick up a birthday cake for James Taylor’s birthday. It’s March 12th in case you were curious. This date will forever be burned in my memory thanks to my mother’s insanity. So, this is what I grew up with – my mother celebrated James Taylor’s birthday with more verve than she did her husband’s. And now, I’m crazy enough as well that I’m going to bake something in happiness for the season premiere of a television show. I need to go back to college or do more volunteer work or something. When you find yourself baking or celebrating in this fashion, it’s never a good thing. Maybe this insanity will skip a generation and my children will have a shot at normalcy. It’s doubtful though.

Going back to the Douglas Adams’ books – I do plan on reading them; I really do. My new glasses will be arriving soon and I’ll then tackle the teeny font of the book.