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The faithful must also grow used to disappointment. The Fairfield Whovian festival was technically our second Doctor Who convention; Patrick and I had traveled to New York City for an earlier con in July of 1983. Upon our arrival we found the building locked and a sign posted announcing the convention had been cancelled. We had received no advance notice and were of course quite disappointed. Our father gamely took us to lunch and to do some shopping at the old Compleat Strategist, but his comment on the cancellation proved so apt that I recall it every time I now hear of the program: "Doctor No-Show."**
* They particularly enjoyed sneering at Peter Davison's invocation of the TARDIS's cloister bell. "Oh, the TARDIS Cloister Bell is ringing!" they would cry in exaggerated British accents. In fairness, Davison himself deserved some of this abuse.
** Patrick had, as I recall, spent his own allowance money on the tickets, and did not get a refund for several months. The guest of honor, Jon Pertwee, did send him a generic signed photo as well. I guess that's the best we could expect from Doctor Number Three.