Two Doctors in the TARDIS

On Friday, Ruth, my wife, accompanied me to the Tardis, the ABC's radio booths in Southbank.  She watched as I chatted to Jo Spargo from ABC Hobart 'Afternoons' about Distraction.  Ruth smiled, gave me thumbs-up, nodded, smirked, and tried not to hack her throaty cough.  She almost distracted me from distraction.

It was lovely. But why?

In simple terms, it lent intimacy to the encounter. The sound in the Tardis is perfect; the voice of the producer and host clear and immediate. But it can be a profoundly alienating experience.  You miss the subtle clues of facial and body language; you can't respond to clothing, figure, temperature or mood; you can't look your interlocutor in the eye, wink or smile.  

As listeners, we don't notice this - we're used to the sound of two voices talking, and we unknowingly place them together.  We imagine, perhaps without knowing, the magic of two: two voices and minds, trying to intermingle.

But for the guest (and perhaps sometimes for the host), is can be a bizarre experience: talking to tens of thousands of people, but feeling curiously alone.

Having Dr. Ruth in the studio remedied this.  With her pregnant belly and warm smile, she made me feel more like myself.  If I couldn't see Jo in Tasmania, I could at least be sure of myself in Melbourne; of my eccentricities and shortcomings, longings and fears.  In this, Ruth was a living reminder of the point of Distraction: that the challenge of life is identifying and seizing what's worthwhile, and having the presence-of-mind to keep it safe.

It wasn't the real TARDIS, but no less real for this.