There are three things that I should mention. I dislike Dr. Phil, I am craving BBQ and I cleaned out my garage. These things are all connected I assure you.
I cleaned out some boxes in my garage. Having lived a sort of vagabond twentysomething existance, I have boxes that I have just kept moving from apartment to apartment never even opening quite often. But it was time, I have a house now.
Now much to my friends' relief, I have in the recent past broken my dating pattern. That being, finding beautiful girls who were nonetheless quite broken people. I could fix them and I liked fixing them. But sooner or later, being the human glue holding them together...well you know. And here in these boxes was the evidence of all this. I could have made a scrapbook. There would be the pretty picture, the danger signs I ignored in a letter, and the restraining order issued. Over and over. ahem. But all this has been tossed to the wind. It's no longer waiting to be opened in a garage. It's gone it's over! I am no longer the Dr. Phil of the dating world.
Dr. Phil. As regular readers know, I loathe this silly man yet at the same time admire what he can get away with and rich off of. I watch from time to time, because I figure you can't get a good hate going without proper ammunition and familiarity. There are so many people who say I hate so and so. Why? you ask. "I heard this or I just do or...". Bleh. When I hate I want to be able to hate enough to fill a book. That's the sort of wonderful person I am.
This supposed "Dr." as you know is a tall, bald guy, with a cheeseass moustache he grows to prove that while he can't grow hair on top he can still grow it somewhere. And he has the sort of southern accent that sounds like he should be eating BBQ in some joint with a PBR in his hand wearing bib overalls.
He makes millions telling morons what is apparent to anyone.
dr.phil: okay Clara welcome to the show. Now Clara what do you see in the mirror?
Clara who weighs 400lbs: I see the skinny person I really am.
D.P.: Really? I see a load of fat.
Clara: I guess I just don't see what's really there.
D.P. Oh it's there, it's also here, dam, it's everywhere.
Ok, so Dr. Phil wouldn't say anything that funny. It's pretty bland. And he has these little catchphrases that are embarrassing. "You can't be fixed until you know what's broke", he quips looking quite delighted with himself.
The sad thing is that to most people his simple stating of the obvious is eye-opening. Like that woman I saw who kept insisting she was a skinny person trapped inside this body. That's what we are conditioned with in our culture. Having an excuse, nothing is our fault. I mean hey look, I am sure there is a golfer inside of me better than Tiger Woods but he's trapped in a 110 shooting body. It's not my fault he's trapped I tell you.
Now if our Phil's advice would be "lay off the biscuits" or something it'd be ok. He does want you to "own the problem". So far so good. BUT in the end, he merely spackles the problem. Okay they've identified the problem, but then he tells them it's ok to have the problem. So they become comfortable with it but it stops there.
Now the tie in. See that was me with these girls. I would spackle (I love that word) the problems for them to get them and then when it no longer covered the problems, well I was gone. Just like Dr. Phil. And the reference to BBQ has made me crave some BBQ. Badly.
Wow, I certainly wordy for a Monday. Please excuse me and my lack of brevity.
"Now go take on the day"
whoops that's Dr. Laura and well that's a whole other issue. So...