Matt Smith is “my” Doctor.
I know, I know, he’s one of several men to play “the” Doctor, but he is “my” Doctor. Like Tom Baker might be “your” Doctor, or David Tenant.
I can admit that I never got Doctor Who. I knew about it, vaguely. There was a police box (which never existed in the USA… kind of like the Ford Prefect it was something lost on me…) There was also lots of trippy music, and it was all shot so poorly. British television really shoots poorly, in my opinion. So, unless it was Monty Python I wasn’t interested.
Until one day, shortly after moving to the UK, I got sick. That sort of sick where you can’t really sleep, but you don’t want to move, so you start looking for things to watch. I had heard that there was this “new” Doctor.
Here was the thing, there was all sorts of news on this guy, this “Matt Smith.” And how he, he was taking over from that guy who played Barty Crouch in the Harry Potter films. People were really, truly upset about it. “What nutters,” I thought.
I saw that several episodes of the show had already been on. I thought, “What the heck, I’ll learn about Doctor Who. See what all the fuss is about.”
Suddenly my husband was in the doorway checking on me.
Here’s the thing, as far as I could remember he had just left for work… and now… he was home.
In one day I was converted. I was so converted I immediately demanded my husband watch the two-part series which was my first encounter with the Weeping Angels.
He then became so converted we got a hold of every episode of Doctor Who from relaunch forward. (I know, I know, I still haven’t experienced Tom Baker…) We watched every one.
We were so entranced we managed to convince my best friend from college and his wife to dress up as Doctor Who and River Song for Halloween (I was Amy Pond and my husband was a Dalek). We spent an entire Halloween finding and taking pictures in front of dilapidated police boxes. He now watches it, and this man doesn’t own a television.
I own a sonic screwdriver, a police box mug, a Doctor Who mug, and a board game.
And so when Matt Smith announced his departure I felt this pang, this grief, this sorrow. “My” Doctor was leaving. And when they announced (and then I think renounced) that the “new” Doctor was going to be revealed I thought, “They can’t.”
“They can’t just replace ‘my’ Doctor. They can’t just roll out some new guy, who I won’t like by the way. Because Matt is mine and you need to let me mourn here! He technically hasn’t even regenerated yet!”
And then I realised, I’m kicking up a fuss. I’m kicking up such a fuss that I’m writing a blog about it. I’m one of “those” people. I’m a nutter.
I know that Matt Smith is an actor, and that he can’t play one role forever and ever. He’s gotta stretch and grow and be whoever Matt Smith is. He’s a cool dude, I’ll definitely watch his movies and cheer him on.
But he’s “my” Doctor. He’s a part of me getting this whole British thing. So thanks, Matt. And also, thanks for bringing back the bow tie and fez. ‘Cause fezzes are cool.
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