TARDIS : Twixt Aspergers
And Reverence (for ) Doctor In Space.
It took a year. A whole year.
They said it was coming: this 50th anniversary. I
thought it didn’t matter. Or that it might be a ‘special episode’, or something
as small as that.
You see, when they resurrected Dr Who in 2005 with one of my
favourite actors, Christopher Eccleston, I couldn’t quite convince Beloved
Aspie (BA) to give it a go. I talked to him of Daleks and Cybermen and Sea
Devils (who’d been a particular terror of mine along with those giant maggots).
But he was unimpressed. Of course, by this time Spiderman could fly between
buildings, and the Xmen exalted their mutantcy in glorious CGI.
The king rat, early Silurians and a few bug-eyed monsters
carried no appeal.
But, he didn’t give up (sometimes he is his mother’s son)
and he got hooked (sometimes he …) And it became an event. On Saturday, we
would sit together and watch the new Dr Who. The we discovered that our
downstairs neighbours, the talented poet, John Mc Cullough, and his partner
Morgan, were also fans. They started lending BA dvds of the older shows.
Well that was it
-addiction!
For BA’s 18th birthday , it was a Dr Who theme. I
spent months advising friends, in secret, what they should wear to look like
this, that or the other alien, character, whatever. Their efforts were
phenomenal and his joy supreme.
We did well –too well! His expectations of the 50th
Celebration were high. He was vigilant. He was one of the first to get tickets
online (thanks be). He had a dear friend
signed up to join us there, (thanks, B). Then we started planning the costume.
Now, here’s the truth. As the year moved on, a total Aspie
obsession set in. First it was the sonic screwdrivers: all of them. I have
painted them. Family and friends have been enlisted to modify them. I am torn
between wanting to kill him for tormenting everyone, and admiring him for
enlisting everyone! Then it was the impossible route to building his own Vortex
Manipulator (yes, be glad if you don’t know what I’m talking about).
What I haven’t enjoyed is waking him in the morning and the
first words being sonic screwdriver or
vortex whatever…Good morning, mum works for me. Or the last words being
something about the next bit we have to find in a shop to make whatever…I quite
like a goodnight hug.
By last week, he was beside himself: overwhelmed with
expectation and overwrought with anxiety about what could go wrong. I was the
latter times ten. With expectation so high, how the hell was I going to fix it
if it didn’t work out?
I dressed up, as River Song; thank goodness she did double
denim and a white shirt. Check. BA was a stunning version of the 10th
Doctor (David Tennant). We got up at 5am. Left home by 5.50am to drive to
London. A mad woman reversed into the car in the car park, helpful. Excel is
huge and our friend couldn’t get past jobsworth because I had her ticket when
no-one had wanted them minutes before.
And then everything melted: the stress, the panic, the
mania. We were here. In the Weeping Angels’ group, going into the Celebration.
I won’t lie –there were things that could have been better. More
space for the costumes and props area – fantastic stuff on show, and no room to
swing a cat or take a photo. Autographs
and photos were overbooked so celeb moments limited. What saved the day was the
behind the scenes teams who were showing us special effects, or make up, or
model making (yes, those Daleks flying through the wall on the Anniversary
special show, I did that) had the most amazing stories to share. And BA did get
to see Matt Smith and Jenna Coleman being interviewed, and Tom Baker with
Graham Norton, and the so friendly comedian, Jon Culshaw.
I died in the Dr Who Quiz without him. He was still shopping
and I was answering S***e.
But we left the building with a final photo shoot as he put
his Tardis Key in the door of the original Tardis prop, his shopping by his
feet, to say farewell.
He was exhausted.
But he had the best day.
My work here is done.
For now...
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