DOOBY DOOBY DO

Do Something, Even If It’s Wrong

Motherly advice to jumpstart writing and everything else

My mother had a lot of pithy sayings, some you could live by and some maybe not so much. This one, my favorite, might be one of the latter.

“Do something, even if it’s wrong.”

I’ve wracked my brain to remember where she applied this. Probably when we were lying around the house in the summer when school was out. It went along with my other favorite one,

“You will have fun whether you like it or not.”

This was when she planned something or when we were on a trip or vacation. She was always right about that one — which I often resented. I did have fun, though.

Thinking of something to write about brings these sayings of Betty Joy’s to mind. I could sit around and muse on what to write, or I could start writing something even if it turns out to be wrong.

At least my brain will start working as my fingers are typing. As in exercise, any movement is better than nothing.

For instance, it’s too damned hot here in Texas — and I guess everywhere soon with climate warming — to exercise outdoors. It’s even too hot to cross the melting asphalt to the gym door. But pools work for me.

The pool is a perk of my ridiculously over-priced apartment in Austin, Texas. Everything here is ridiculously over-priced, so you might as well rent a place with a pool. Thanks Elon and all the tech companies. Austin is full. Don’t come here.

I’m back from the rant.

Yesterday, I spent hours at Barton Springs. Specifically, I was in the vernacularly referred to “Barky Springs,” the free part of an ice-cold spring where dogs are allowed. Which makes it way more fun than the hoity-toity part which costs $2.50 to enter — and there are no dogs. Give me free dogginess every time.

I didn’t want to go. Did I mention it’s hot out in Austin? Over 100 degrees for days on end since the middle of May. Yes, Barton Springs is 68 degrees year-round, but you still have to cross melting asphalt to get there. I also only swim well enough to not drown in water up to my neck, and even then I’ve been known to panic.

And the guy I went with is one of those planner types. Whereas I go to beaches, lakes, and springs with a towel, sunscreen, a book and water, my friend brings food and drink, a cooler to carry food and drink, music, a beach blanket in its carrying case, his inflatable paddle board, an inflatable raft for me, extra ropes to tie said raft to said paddle board, the mechanical inflator to inflate said raft and paddle board, the paddle for the paddle board, an extra hat for me, a life-jacket for me — for which I’m grateful — doggie and the doggie’s leash, food and water.

I nearly backed out, even before I saw all his paraphernalia and waited an hour for him to get it all together, inflated, packed onto the board, raft tied to a tree so I could just chill, food and water distributed, music chosen, etc. etc.

Then Betty Joy appeared in my cooled apartment, where I sat on my chaise reading with kitties snuggled up to me, and said,

“Do something, even if it’s wrong. You will have fun whether you like it or not.”

What are you going to do when mom shows up from the Great Beyond and suggests strongly that you get off your ass and have a good time?

You go. And you have fun. Whether you like it or not.

I liked it. So did the dog.

Then you come home and write.

Thanks to Betsy Denson for rapid editing.