FIXIN’ TO: THE BUSIEST THING I DID ALL DAY

By Mark Morgan

www.markmorganbooks.com

I woke up the other morning with a full head of ambition and absolutely no intention of usin’ it. I was fixin’ to clean out the truck. Fixin’ to run by the courthouse. Fixin’ to swing past Main Street like I had important business instead of just curiosity. By noon, I hadn’t done a thing except wear a path from the coffee pot to the porch, but I was wore out just the same.

That’s when it hit me—fixin’ to might be the most powerful phrase in the Arkansas language. It covers a multitude of sins. You say you’re fixin’ to do somethin’, folks don’t bother you about it no more. They just nod, like they understand you’re involved in a long-term project that might require a nap.

I’ve seen a man say he was fixin’ to leave while still sittin’ down. I’ve watched another one be fixin’ to help for so long somebody else aged into the job. “Fixin’ to” ain’t a lie exactly—it’s more like a polite postponement with hope attached.

We’re naturally gifted at it here. You can spot it anywhere from Lake Hinkle to over by Blythe’s Museum. Folks leanin’ on fences, talkin’ about what they’re fixin’ to do once it cools off, warms up, or after they figure out where they laid that thing they just had in their hand.

Modern technology fits right into this lifestyle. Every piece of it is fixin’ to work. Your phone’s fixin’ to update. Your computer’s fixin’ to restart. The internet’s fixin’ to come back on as soon as it finishes thinkin’ about what it did wrong. Technology promises speed, then moves slower than molasses runnin’ uphill in January.

And don’t get me started on crypto-currency. That’s money you cain’t touch, see, or explain without somebody squintin’ at you like you just spoke squirrel. I’d trust a wooden nickel faster—and I’ve met wooden nickels that’d steal your wallet if you turned your back.

Online reviews are the same way. Folks won’t eat catfish no more till a stranger from three states over says it’s safe. I don’t need stars. I judge catfish by time-tested science: if the grease puddle is generous and the cook’s smilin’ like they know somethin’ you don’t, you’re in good hands.

By late afternoon, I finally wandered toward Main Street, not in a hurry, just movin’ with purpose the way folks do when they want to look busy. I’d accomplished nothin’, but I’d observed plenty. Sometimes that’s enough. There’s an art to piddlin’, and it takes a steady hand and low expectations.

I reckon Waldron runs just fine this way. We ain’t lazy—we’re efficient with our effort. We save it for when it matters. Everything else? We’re fixin’ to get to it.

Moral of the story:If you spend your whole day fixin’ to do things, don’t fret—you’re still movin’ forward. Just remember, even a porch rocker has to rock now and then or folks start wonderin’ if it’s broke.