This was the final full weekend of the Vancouver Fringe Performing arts festival. The weather was about perfect, the performances we saw ranged from “inventive and interesting” to one the Edmonton Sun called “Half William Shatner, half Zapp Brannigan, half blind and total alcoholism”. How could you say no to theater like that?
It’s not the Edinburgh Fringe, that’s a unique beast, but there was plenty to enjoy. And it’s always fun to spend a weekend in Vancouver.
Eleven times in the past we’ve adjusted to a new Doctor, we’ve slowly learned a little about who The Doctors is and now it’s time for number 12: Peter Capaldi to take center stage.
I’ve been watching The Doctor since John Pertwee (#3), admittedly that was mostly peering out from behind the sofa. The first bars of the theme tune sent me scurrying there like a whole generation of British kids.
The first Doctor I watched while proudly sitting on the sofa was Tom Baker, the person I consider my first Doctor. A somewhat disheveled man with a questionable taste in scarves (mentioned in the first Capaldi episode with a great throwaway line) and slightly strange eyes. However we had one thing in common, a love of Jelly babies.
The David Tennant to Matt Smith transition was pretty seamless, both younger doctors with similar personalities. So we’ve had close to a decade with similar Doctors, and then Peter Capaldi shows up. He’s a big departure, when he was announced my first thought was “Malcolm Tucker is going to be the Doctor? Should be interesting”.
If you don’t know who Malcolm Tucker is, watch the video, but I warn it’s very NSFW, but it’s worth 2 minutes 43 seconds of your time
Michele and I talked about this last week and we come to The Doctor from very different places. She knows very little of The Doctor before the Christopher Eccleston reboot. Michele wonders not only can Capaldi play The Doctor well, but her expectation is that he plays a good Matt Smith type Doctor. But, I want more than a simple continuation of what’s we’ve had for the last decade, I want to keep looking at the dark side that David Tennant first gave us a glimpse into.
We’re four shows in, and I like what I see. This is a different Doctor, his humour is darker, much like his outlook. He’s an older, angrier Doctor who is learning about who he is, the world around him and dealing with his personal demons.
Will Steven Moffat keep peeling back the curtain and let us see who The Doctor really is?
My geek-dar is hoping so, and if it’s half as good as the War Doctor we are in for a treat.
This was a big milestone weekend for me, and I got to share it with 59 others all trying to do the same thing – Race to the top of a hill. I was not quick, but by gosh it felt good to be back, I’m still smiling.
This weekend was filled with good BBQ, lots of laughs, a few drinks and some wonderful moments shared with great friends.
I went racing, for the first time since this. This weekend the three years of learning to cope with the disorientation, dizziness and occasional vertigo through long sessions of physiotherapy, and dumb determination, paid off.
I had two goals for the weekend: drive to the top of the hill and drive the car home again. Not lofty goals, but I achieved them both. While I was not the quickest driver over the weekend (but not the slowest either), I’m not sure there was any that had a better time than I did.
Thanks to JB for knowing exactly what I needed over the last 12 years, I don’t know how you knew, but I love you for it. For Chris and Chris for being such a big part of the weekend. For Michele, Heidi, Amy and Jillian for letting us act our hat sizes, rather than ages, for a weekend thank you.
It empties my mind, I find it very relaxing, and it is hard to do sometimes. And if you’ve ever successfully copied something you saw on Pinterest, you’ll know nothing gives more pride than nailing something difficult.
Hard stuff takes determination, practice and a certain amount of dedication. Writing can be very hard and I know the rewards are proportional to the difficulty of what I’m doing.
I’ve blogged and written consistently for years, most blogs last less than a year. While it’s a couple of years since I wrote daily, there are archives going back 6 years, and I’m a little proud of that. This weekend I was asked if I still write. And I have been elsewhere, but it’s time to get back to writing here.
My blog is very personal and success or failure is determined by how I feel about it. Comments, tweets and email are nice, but I write for me, and that’s really important.
I’m truly fortunate, but like everyone else not everyday is perfect. I’m lucky to have many great people and had a really good therapist in my life. It’s a life that is unrecognizable when compared to where I was five years ago.
So to finally answer “why I write?” However my day has been there is one thing that will give me a sly, satisfying smile: Putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard.
My first real exposure to alternative comedy was The Young Ones, I was about 13 and it was brilliant. This was comedy that my parents did not get, it was loud, a little sweary and very, very funny. This was probably the first thing that I saw as mine and as I was a few years too late for the Clash and the Sex Pistols, this was my counter culture moment.
I met Rik Mayall once, briefly in 1993 (I think it was in Barcelona) and it was not much more than a brief handshake, but by then we’d seen the wonderful Lord Flashheart, Comic Strip Presents, Filthy Rich and Catflap, Alan B’Stard, Colin the bassman and my personal favorite Bottom.
Which spawned the brilliant, brilliant Bottom Live. I saw two of the Bottom Live tours, not sure how much was improvised and what was in the script, but Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmonson brought an incredible, almost feral energy to the stage. It was anarchy and it was wonderful. The commitment to the characters was total and the audience were given something that could never be shown on BBC2, even after the watershed.
The Young Ones started it all, Rick was the self styled “Peoples Poet” and believed he spoke for a generation. His work left a lasting legacy and how can he be dead when we have his poetry?