The Ideal Man and Joe Average
**This article was published by Focus on the Family (January, 1987)
Madison Avenue, Hollywood and the National Football League have
given us the image of what the ideal Man should be. He is the living Ken to every blue-eyed
Barbie-doll woman. With a fur-lined
leather jacket slung casually over his shoulder, he alights from his helicopter
and gallops around the lower 40 of his dude ranch. He dominates the corporate
boardroom.
We’ve all seen the
ads. We know that the Ideal man
begins his day in the bathroom with shaving cream in one hand and a beautiful
female on the other. After a hard day’s
work, he sprints to the local health spa, where he lifts weights in front of
mural-sized mirrors. Towel around neck,
his sweat shines and his hair holds. He
smiles at a dazzling and trim woman who bounces during an aerobic
exercise. After smooth and confident
introductions, the radiant couple slips off to the clubhouse bar. The evening ends with Ken and Barbie sharing
a nightcap, a roaring fire, and his pajamas.
But, what about the
Average Guy? Joe Average also begins
his day in the bathroom. He doesn’t have
much of a beard, so one quick lick with the old Norelco is all it takes. He ignores the few blond whiskers lodged in
the cleft of his double chin. After a
quick gargle with medicinal mouthwash, he dons polyester pants and a starched
white shirt. His breast pocket holds an
assortment of colored pens and pencils.
For breakfast, he gulps down some Cheerios with the family, then dashes
off to the office in his aging Plymouth Reliant, dropping off the kids at
school on the way.
After another day of
punching computer keys, Joe hurries to his son’s Little League game. Afterwards, he treats the little benchwarmer
to McDonald’s before rushing off to a church deacon’s meeting. Weight lifting was a passing fancy for this
average guy, whose idea of “pumping iron” now amounts to stepping in and
ironing his works shirts when his wife is tired. Mr. and Mrs. Average end their evening by tucking
the kids in after a bedtime prayer.
Don’t tell anyone, but he also cries with his wife over “Little House on
the Prairie” reruns and wears pajama tops.
I know them both- the
Ideal Man and Joe Average. I’ve
spent hours golfing with the Ideal Man, watching Monday Night football games
with him and fixing his 300 ZX. The last
time we got together, I tried to talk him out of leaving his wife and kids for
Barbie and her Porsche. I told him it
would devastate his family. He didn’t
care. He said he needed to find
himself. I guess that’s what real men
do.
I’ve spent hours with
Joe Average. Actually, he’s spent hours
with me. He sat with me in the
emergency room while my son was being stitched up. He encouraged me during a mid-life
crisis. He labored with me as we tore
out my old kitchen sink. He cried with
me when my father died.
I did Joe’s tax
returns last year, and when I tallied his deductions, I learned why it doesn’t
bother me that he has shiny pants and a rusty car. During the year, he contributed $4,000 to
his church, donated 50 hours of work to the Little League snack bar, went
door-to-door for the American Cancer Society, and gave his personal computer to
a halfway house for runaway teens.
Joe Average may not be able to keep up with the Ideal Man on the indoor
track, but if you ask me, Joe’s got the Ideal Man beat by a country mile.
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY TO
ALL THE JOE AVERAGES WHO HONOR GOD THROUGH A LIFE OF INTEGRITY, LOVE, AND
CARE! WE HONOR YOU ON THIS SPECIAL DAY!
Consider reading the Word today:
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