This is likely the worst life story I’ll ever write about, but the more I hear about Dr. Who, the more I feel compelled to share why I don’t watch it.
When I was in first or second grade, at Beltsville elementary, one of my classmates was a tall, slow-witted blond kid. As I remember it, he was a friend of mine, but as a 6-year-old, it was apparent that he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. To give a clearer picture of how I remember him at the age of six, see Tom ‘M-O-O-N’ Cullen from Steven King’s The Stand, though I’ll admit that’s unfair and not nice.
Anyway, the teacher asked us all if we had done our homework from the night before. We all had, except for him.
“Well I had to watch Dr. Who,” he said.
And with that, I promised myself I would never watch Dr. Who.
Again, I don’t claim to have any superiority over this guy, and I certainly watch my fair share of silly television, but his endorsement of the show and the fact that he didn’t do his homework because of it awakened a prejudice within me that permanently turned me off from ever watching that show. Glad he didn’t say the same thing about Ancient Aliens.