Watching Doctor Who

(Hello again. Here is a tale of Doctor Who fandom from the fabulous Gillian of Food History. Thank you, Gillian. Watching Doctor Who should be back on track next week.)

Once Upon a Time in Canada

Once I lived in Canada. It was only for a year, but those twelve months left a great mark on my memories. I’m Australian, after all, and it was my first opportunity to walk in blizzards, make snow angels, make whiskey snowcones from wild forest snow … and to introduce Canadian undergraduates to the joys of Dr Who.

It was 1983. Or maybe 1984. The Canadian school year is really strange and doesn’t follow the calendar. Here in the not-very-snowy continent, we have our Christmas holidays at the end of the year. Well, most people do. I’m Jewish. My Jewishness doesn’t change our calendar, and we take Christmas holidays at the end of the school year. This means I have no idea when Dr Who was shown on cable in Toronto, except that it might have been cold outside, which makes it June or July, which makes it 1984. Except that Canada has summer round then, doesn’t it? So it was just before the 1983 Christmas break or just after it, in 1984.

If you think I’m confused, you should have seen my friends. I told them all about Dr Who with such excitement and with such gesticulation that they all decided to stay up at midnight to watch it with me. We made popcorn.

We all lay in front of the college TV looking up at the screen in vast anticipation.

“It’s Tom Baker!�? I screamed. “My favourite doctor.�? Then I tried to explain that sometimes the earlier doctors were just as good but that I really didn’t like the doctors after Tom Baker nearly as much. My friends were entirely confused. About as much as I am, tonight. I might not remember what year it was, but I surely remember their confusion.

“Regenerations,�? I explained. “And different actors.�?

“Oh.�? They weren’t de-confused. They were just very polite.

Anyhow, we watched and for every degree my happiness rose, my friends become more glum. I didn’t notice at first, because I was entirely enthralled. I had been as homesick as can be, and though it wasn’t the Pyramids of Mars or the Masque of Madragora, the episodes shown that night were still pretty cool. I don’t remember the name, but it’s the section where the Doctor and Romana make snide remarks at every moment possible while stranded inside a vampire spaceship. Lots of lovely purple eye makeup, big shoulder pads and quite a bit of overacting.

I started explaining that the overacting was on purpose. That wasn’t the problem. Well, it was, but only part of it.

“This is British SF?�?

“I don’t like it.�?

“I don’t understand it.�?

“Gillian, we’ve watched it for you. Are you happy?�?

Doctor Who, Food History