My Other Vehicle is a TARDIS

The newest version of Dr. Who has finally hit the American airwaves. And all I can say is THANK YOU, BRITAIN!

I didn’t think I would like this new show one bit. Mind you, I grew up largely on the Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker eras. To me they are the epitome of the Dr. Who phenomenon. And I find myself endeared to the cheap production value of the old episodes. So totally chintzy and lacking in any real special effects. How could one not love that?

But the new series? Wow. First off, great casting. Christopher Eccleston is everything the Doctor should be. Of course, he gets bumped off at the end of the first season, and even though we’re only two episodes into it at the mo’, I’m already completely bummed and dreading the arrival of the fated episode 13. *sigh* I’m OK with it I suppose. And the new Doctor is quite pretty. But I do so get attached to my Doctors very easily.

From what I know, the entire first season takes place on Earth, which, if you know anything of Dr. Who, is a bit unusual. This was done so as not to alienate new viewers who are not used to the way the series usually operates…you know how it is. Folks get turned off by strange planets and weird extra-terrestrials and whatnot. I could see people freaking out over the Daleks had they appeared in the first episode. So I’m looking forward to the second season already, as it pushes forward into the more familiar realm for Doctor fans.

I can’t really call myself a hardcore fan, as I don’t visit any fan forums or attend any conventions. But I’ve seen every single episode of the original series numerous times…PBS used to play the show every Saturday night when I was a kid…they’d take all the individual episodes in a story arc and play them in a single evening. I’d stay up until 9pm and watch with rabid fascination from the opening credits (with the GORGEOUS THEME SONG) through the last battle of the night. In school, none of my little friends had any idea about this show, except for two. John Mackenzie, whose family was from England and were as hip as the day is long (I swear, they were the coolest bunch of folks ever conceived…I missing hanging out at his house). And Jimmy Martin.

Now Jimmy Martin and I went back a ways together. I don’t recall exactly which grade we started schooling together in. But in junior high, he developed this insane crush on me. It was sometime during sixth grade, and he weirded most kids out. See, Jimmy thought he was a cat. Yes, you heard me. A cat. Bless him, he would grow his nails long and go around hissing and meowing at people. But with me, he acted normal. He had a birthmark on his head that looked like a tiny brain…it was this raised bump that had a wrinkly, ridged texture. Whenever I was bored, I’d ask him to show it to me, and he’d part his greasy blonde hair with his thick meaty fingers and dip his head low so I could see. I never had the guts to touch it even though he always invited me to.

Jimmy became enamored with me when he discovered that I was a Dr. Who fan. The only way he knew is because I’d written the word “TARDIS” in giant bold letters on the front of one of my binders, above a picture I’d attempted to draw (I had just learned how to draw really good three-dimensional boxes, so the TARDIS was a natural object of my artistic affections). When he saw that while we stood in the lunch line one day, he just about shit himself. He sidled up to me and mumbled at me “I like the Doctor too.” I was surprised to hear him speaking rather than meowing. I raised an eyebrow at him and he continued. “Uh. We should talk about it sometime.” And that was that.

And every Monday during lunch, he would seek me out in the quad and without ever uttering a single meow or hiss, he’d talk rather animatedly with me about the previous weekend’s episode. He had all these wonderful theories and storylines worked out in his head. He kept trying to predict where the next episode would take us (even though the shows had been filmed like ten years prior). I professed my love of the TARDIS noise. He agreed. It was magnificent. And thus was our symbiotic relationship. We relied on one another to flesh out this little facet of our lives. I’m pretty sure had he been around in high school, he would have been my little Twin Peaks buddy, as nobody ever got into that show either.

Alas, Jimmy moved away sometime between seventh and eighth grade. Bummed me right the hell out. Yeah, I was kinda glad not to have this weirdo with a total boner for me. Because when we weren’t chatting about her Doktor, I was with my friends and appreciated not being bothered by his affections, thankyouverymuch. Jimmy would sometimes follow us around and meow and bare his claws if Debbie told him to fuck off. Nice. But really, I did miss him on some level. And to this day, I still wonder what ever became of Jimmy Martin. Nobody has ever been able to track him down, so I will never know. But as the first episode of the new Dr. Who ended the other night, I couldn’t help but think…”I wonder if Jimmy is still a fan? And if so, what does he think of the new series?” Maybe one day I’ll have an answer, but for now…I’m stuck just plain wondering.