The Unique Perils of Loving Dr Who

Last Sunday we saw the end of David Tennant's Dr Who and the first appearance of the new one played by Matt Smith. Regeneration is something old time fans of Dr Who are used to and look forward to to a certain extent. But to my children the demise of Tennant's Doctor was a wrench. We saw a few seconds of the newer younger variety (Ew - he looks weird!) I tried to reassure them that all Doctors were cool in their own way. You always start off thinking - he's not right - but eventually you become fond of them.
However, my Dr Who memories go back all the way to William Hartnell (yes, the first Doctor) and I clearly remember the shock when he turned into Patrick Troughton. In any case the Doctor's regenerations are part of his appeal and absolutely the reason he's still going strong after nearly 50 years. (Yes, there was a gap. But the new Doctor has managed so far to be even better than the old Doctor.)
But Tennant's Doctor was becoming a troublesome character. The Doctor's always been a smart alec but Tennant verged on megalomania from time to time, and a new aspect to the Doctor's character - a tragic preoccupation with death and suffering - meant he was actually not such fun company as he had been. It seemed the character had nowhere further to go. He was too hurt by the suffering he was causing his companions to invite any more to join him, so he was lonely. He was without family or home, and was the last of his race (give or take the evil council imprisoned in a time lock). He had friends but put them in danger by his very presence. Tennant played the whole last two shows as if he was in great pain all the time. It was almost as if ending the character was a blessing.
I hope the young new fellow gets to have some jolly fun before he starts losing companions and making serious life and death decisions.