Someone recently said to me “You’re like Ron Swanson, but without the mustache.” I had to plead ignorance on who this Ron Swanson guy was. After some investigation I learned that he’s a character on a comedic television program called “Parks and Recreation”. Since I haven’t got a TV, I had only the vaguest knowledge of the show. I watched a few best of clips on the YouTube, and laughed myself silly. I could see how my acquaintance thought we shared a few characteristics.
I further learned that Mr. Offerman is a wood worker of some talent who enjoys building wooden boats. Well. I like the character he plays, and he seems pretty cool as his usual self too.
Grabbed this autobiography, and I am now unabashedly a fan of Mr. Offerman. He just seems like a really cool, down to earth guy. Genuinely likeable. He praises and expresses gratitude to his family for a great upbringing. He praises and expresses gratitude to his teachers for a solid education. He praises and expresses gratitude to his co-stars for their fine work. He praises and expresses gratitude to his pals for their unwavering friendship. He praises and expresses gratitude to his wife, the foxy Megan Mullaly, for her love and support.
He was a high school jock who also liked theatre, and decided to pursue it. He did it for love of the craft, not for fame and fortune. Along the way he did other things to facilitate that love, things like the behind the scenes tasks. He seems like he would have been genuinely content building sets and doing odd carpentry jobs to survive. But that humility and decency got him a lucky break, and he rose to a level of relative renown and financial comfort. But all along he never lost sight of where he came from and who facilitated that opportunity.
There were many points where I laughed out loud, and I smiled the whole way through. His take on religion alone is fantastic. I’m sure the salty language here and there will offend some, but hey. An enjoyable read by an authentic, genial man.
If Mr. Offerman ever finds himself in my neck of the woods, a few imbibements of his choice are on me. And if I ever find myself in his neck of the woods, I hope we can go for a paddle or make a pile of shavings.
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