Primal fears

When I was little, we were allowed to watch tv after school, but only from 5pm onwards. This meant we had to spend at least an hour playing outside or doing other activities. I think it was a pretty good plan, considering (in my mind) the shows before 5pm were for babies anyway. But between 5 and 6pm, we were treated to weird and wonderful programming on the government channel, the ABC. I grew up watching a mix of BBC and Japanese Anime shows, with a few North American ones thrown in : The Mysterious Cities of Gold, Grange Hill, Astro Boy, Monkey Magic and Degrassi, interspersed with episodes of DangerMouse, Roger Ramjet and The Trap Door.

After 6pm, the programming became less kid-oriented, and whilst we were sometimes thrilled to be treated to episodes of The Goodies for a couple of months at a time, there were sometimes other, less palatable programs on offer.

This is where my inexplicable fear of Doctor Who comes in.

I'm not sure what caused it, but just hearing the name made me shudder in my boots for almost 20 years. It used to be shown in the 6pm timeslot on the ABC, and (never mind whether my sister wanted to watch it or not) I was so scared of it that I had to turn the tv off before the opening credits came on otherwise I would be traumatised by the opening bars of the theme song. It just had to be done.

So, imagine my horror, nearly 20 years later, when I realised they were coming out with new episodes. When friends talked about settling down to watch some of the new series way back in 2005, I shut out the conversation in my head and sung a song to myself so I wouldn't have to hear them talk about it.

But the idea of being so inexplicably afraid of a television show perplexed me for the longest time. Until I was browsing Amazon last week, looking for a new tv series to get into (we watch most tv series on dvd), and I finally decided I would confront my fear and order the first season. After all, it's science-fiction and Sylvain loves any science-fiction, even if it's just two blobs screaming at each other in blob-talk for half an hour.

The small, innocuous box arrived this week, and I hesitantly put it in the dvd player. Sylvain got settled in to watch, excited as usual about anything related to science-fiction. The highly-recognisable music started to play, and I shifted uneasily in my chair, suppressing the urge to race across to the television and turn it off like I did so many years ago.

40 minutes later and I understood why I was so scared when I was a little person. Aliens and monsters and strange creatures, all popping out of seemingly safe situations.

And whilst I am still having a hard time not running across the room to turn the tv off when I hear the music, I have ordered seasons 2 and 3. Embracing my fears. And Sylvain is hooked.

It helps that the aliens and monsters and strange creatures look like they've been borrowed from the set of Buffy.

Now I have to confess I'm curious to see one of the original episodes again, to see whether I've really conquered my fears or whether it will see me a quivering, sobbing mess in the corner of the lounge room.