Right, so that term, yeah? The one about “robbie doctor phil.” When I first heard it, or thought about it, it wasn’t some celebrity mashup that came to mind. Nah. It straight up threw me back to this one dude I used to know. Not literally named Robbie, and definitely not a doctor, but man, did he think he was everyone’s personal Dr. Phil.
My Own “Dr. Phil” Encounter
This guy, let’s call him Mark – because that wasn’t his name – he was in this amateur woodworking club I joined for a bit. I was just trying to learn, you know? Make a wobbly birdhouse, maybe a lopsided shelf. Just for fun. But Mark? Oh, Mark was always there, hovering. Not really woodworking himself much, more like… supervising everyone else’s attempts with this air of profound wisdom.
I remember this one Saturday clear as day. I was trying to get a dovetail joint right. My first one ever. I’d watched a bunch of videos, had my little chisel, and was just trying to tap-tap-tap my way through it. Super focused. And then, boom, Mark materializes. He doesn’t say “Hi,” or “Whatcha working on?” Nope. He just leans in, real close, squints at my pathetic little piece of pine, and goes, “You’re gonna regret that angle. Completely wrong approach. You need to rethink your entire strategy here. What were you even thinking?”
He didn’t offer to show me. He didn’t explain why. He just pronounced it a disaster. Then he starts talking about wood grain like he’s giving a university lecture, tapping my wood with his finger, leaving little dents. I’m just standing there, chisel in hand, feeling about two inches tall. It was like he got a kick out of making you feel like an idiot, all under the guise of “helping.”
- He’d critique your choice of wood.
- He’d “tsk tsk” at your sanding technique.
- He’d even tell you your safety goggles weren’t the “optimal” brand.
It got so bad that I started timing my visits to the workshop to avoid him. Seriously. I’d peek in, and if I saw his car, I’d just drive off and come back another day. It totally sucked the fun out of it for a while. This whole “robbie doctor phil” thing, it just brings that feeling back – that feeling of someone imposing their “wisdom” on you, making you feel small so they can feel big.
I eventually finished that birdhouse, by the way. The dovetails were a bit gappy, and it leaned to one side, but the birds didn’t seem to mind. And I did it my way, without Mark’s “expert” input making me want to throw my tools across the room. Sometimes, I think, the best way to deal with those self-appointed experts is to just find a different workshop, metaphorically speaking. Or just put on some really loud headphones. That works too.
