She's whistling- she often is- and it takes me a minute before I realize the tune. My Mother- the woman with the hatred of science fiction so strong it is rivaled only by her love of Hallmark movies. Whose worst nightmare was of being incapacitated and forced to watch SciFi channel all the time- (literally, she woke up sobbing from that one. Not so much the unable to talk or move part as the SciFi.) This dear woman who is open to new experiences and tolerant to a fault, but screams at the thought of science fiction in any form.
Is whistling music from Doctor Who.
I have finally corrupted her, and I am so proud. It's taken years of gently breaking down barriers of prejudice. We started with Roswell, which was really more soap opera than SciFi. Moved on to the Hitchhiker's Guide radio series on one particularly long road trip, which she enjoyed for the very British humor. Few months ago started gently introducing her to the amazing Christopher Eccleston and funny (and a little bit foxy) David Tennant. Some judicious editing to get to just the "good bits" and she's now unabashedly whistling Rose's theme from the Doomsday episode.
Granted, it's very pretty music.
I have succeeded where my Father has long failed.
We'll be working on Firefly next. Who knows? There may even be hope for Star Trek.
music
