Tomorrow, November 23^rd marks the 50^th Anniversary of Doctor Who. Confession: I’m not a life long Whovian. When I was little, Doctor Who was that show that aired on PBS with that guy with the scarf that I saw once or twice when I could stay awake for it. I had no clue that he was the fourth guy and not all of them wore scarves.  Now as a nerdy adult, I’m a little more versed in the Who. I’ve watched the hell out of all the Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh Doctors’ episodes since it began again in 2005.  I have learned many a lesson from this British Institution. The major one being that Time Lords are sexy in glasses.  Actually, that one might be exclusive to the tenth Doctor, David Tennant.

Another revelation is that I may not be Doctor Who Companion material.

But I love to travel. I’m open to new things.  I’m not, however, up for being on the brink of death week in and week out. After years of watching this show, I have to wonder how these companions could joyfully skip out of the TARDIS, eager for adventure after the countless end-of-the-world, Daleky, Cybermany fun they have encountered. Wouldn’t you be a little wary after awhile? I would.

One time near death: Whew. Glad we got out of that.

Second time near death: Wow. What a weird coincidence that we were once again almost horribly killed.

Third time near death: You know, I’ve got a nasty headache, Doctor. You go ahead and enjoy that Giant Fire Ant Planet without me.

Conclusion: I would find it all a little too stressful. Not to mention all the sneak-up-behind you creatures like The Silence or Weeping Angels.

(RE: Weeping Angels. I wonder if you could make a request for where they send you when they touch you. For example, “Please, if you can, send me to Victorian London but not as a hooker because, you know, Jack the Rip—” Hmm. You may not be able to get that all in.) Protective gear and one of those bicycle helmets with side mirror would be my standard Companion uniform. I have a feeling The Doctor would take one look at me and say, “Next!”

So here’s to 50 more years of attracting drama and putting innocent people in peril and pontificating to aliens and wearing questionable accessories. I will continue to enjoy your journeys from the safety of my sofa. Unless of course the TARDIS has a sweet screening room with snacks, then I could be persuaded to be in jeopardy once or twice…