What is so important about a Phone Booth? Let me note first off, I am a sucker for a good story. There is that one instance in everyone’s life, when we gaze upon something that instantly captivates us, transporting our entire being into a realm full of wonder. It’s a realm so sacred, that every morsel of our inner-child clings at the last few fibers slithering like snakes through our desperate grasps. It is the one moment in time, we can literally say that our mouths drop open, and a smile (too big for any one person to contain) envelopes our soul. In this one moment, anything is possible: dragons, magic, aliens, monsters, you name it, it truly can happen.
As a kid growing up in the 80s, I am completely aware of the trials and tribulations associated with television, having been alive for most of what some people would call the golden age of t.v. I have been captivated by a team of vigilantes soldiers on the run from the government, and a man who can fix his way out of any situation with the assistance of his trusty swiss army knife, a chewing gum wrapper, and a paper clip. I have followed FBI agents through the shadows of government conspiracy, and have prayed that Sam Beckett’s next leap would truly be the leap home. I have lived through every moment of awkwardness, every tear, and every uncomfortable touch, and came out on top.
With all of this virtual experience, there was a time, when I felt that there was nothing left to surprise me. Everyone goes through that moment of realization that applause can’t bring faeries back from the brink of death, kisses can’t wake sleeping princesses from spells, and no matter how much you would hope, there isn’t a land inhabited by small people with hairy feet who are charged with the task of dropping a ring into a volcano. All of the good tales have been told ten times over, leaving me with nothing but the harsh reality that I am stuck here looking for something that doesn’t exist anymore. My search for child-like wonder is finished, and I am left here, my soul screaming in pain, empty handed. What is left for me to do? Shall I sift through the jungle of bad programming, and risk precious hours of my life in search of something, anything salvageable? Do I just accept what fate has dealt to me, and find a new hobby? Maybe I can take up something respectable, like cooking.
As I ponder the little propensities of existence, I stumble across a quaint tale about a lost little girl running into a strange raggedy man. He introduces himself as The Doctor, and from this moment both the life of the lost girl and mine will be changed forever. The show I happened to come across was “Doctor Who.” For those of you who haven’t heard of this show yet, be warned, it is like crack cocaine. You will become addicted to “Doctor Who” beyond
Never has there been a story that has touched so many generations. We are at the beginning of an exciting new era in the show. There is no better time to get into the show, than right at this moment. “Doctor Who” is a British television show that first aired on the BBC on the 23rd of November 1963, and has been capturing the amazement of the world ever since. “Doctor Who” is a timeless tale that reminds each of us about simpler times, when the world still had a shine to it. One of the primary functions of the show is to remind us that we are never too big or too small to make a difference, that humanity never ceases to amaze. If you could take the sparkle from a child’s eye and turn it into a television show, that show would be “Doctor Who.”
As I sit here and try to explain exactly what the show means to me, I am only left with this one explanation: You have to see the show for yourself. Experience the excitement and intensity in Chris Eccleston’s eyes, weep with David Tennant when he doesn’t want to go, and wait with the ‘girl who waited’ for Matt Smith to show up in his fez and bow tie (cause bow tie’s are cool) for fish sticks and custard. Just watch the show. Don’t research, don’t wait, don’t allow another moment to pass in your life, because standing there on the other side of the room is a blue box, with a door cracked open to reveal an open hand. He is right there, waiting patiently to greet you with three words, “come with me.” There really is only one way to sum what The Doctor means to me, thanks to Steven Moffat: “He’s fire and ice and rage, he’s like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun, he’s ancient and forever, he burns at the center of time, he can see the turn of the universe, and he’s wonderful.” The Doctor is fantastic, so viewer beware, because he will take your child-like heart and protect it, close to his, for all of space and time.