(... originally a private May 2018 entry in my personal writing journal; copied herein with limited abridgement.)
In the 1970s and 1980s, children - that is to write, those misfits of youthful social strata - could be classified according to their fantastical passions: Star Wars, Star Trek, Comic Book Super Heroes, et al., yet through some congenital eccentricity (I assume this to have been the same cosmic antic that manifest me as a Depeche Mode and Visage fan), I did not enjoy comic books and thought the Superman movies nonsensical.
While I shared common enthusiasm for Star Trek and Star Wars, not once did I envision myself giving commands aboard the Enterprise or running through swamps of Dagobah with a verdant raisin instructing me in the ways of The Force.
No.
I wanted to be Doctor Who. I wanted to live in the TARDIS.
Unfortunately, living in the South-Eastern United States, I had no one with whom to share my devotion, to role-play as Tom Baker or Peter Davison, to discuss the latest episodic events; no, and not until the ascendency of the Internet did I know there had been many other social oddities like me - others with passion for Doctor Who - others whom the technical limitations of my own childhood made inaccessible in those influential and lonely years.
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