A tribute to the regular guy

I recently attended the Sunday morning funeral of a friend who was recognized for his genuine and joyous enthusiasm for life -- a warm guy who was friendly and thoughtful. Yet, all I could think of as the eulogies flowed was how much I liked him for his authentic approach to the world around him; someone I had the honor of knowing as a “regular guy.”

For those who remember, television’s quintessential regular guy, Norm Peterson epitomized this type of man. Peterson, a usual on “Cheers,” would walk in the tavern and be greeted by the crowd with a hearty, “Norm!” He would sit at the end of the bar rewarded for his long day and witty comments with a cold beer. He was every man’s everyman, an acquired taste much like the suds he was drinking.

I suppose I was meant to be comfortable with this species, having an appreciation for the deeply passionate and defiant, but in recent years, many career-driven adults have surrounded me and their creative work has been dependent upon their pretense in order to survive. I miss the everyday guy. This has resulted in heightened radar and the search for “the regular guy” as a blessing and a curse.

How many people do I really know who reveal their own truths versus those who provide too much information? Who among us have no requirements or constraints to friendship? Who needs to share rather than control? Who never promotes himself like packaged goods?

My universe is typically small: relatives, fellow workers, students, congregants, neighbors and buddies. I count on my fingers a few guys I have come to know, silently admiring their strength for not trying so hard to be liked. Credible. Reliable. Real. All sincerity and no arrogance. It’s the basis of my choice in husband, my hopes for both daughter and son and the fact that “regular” comes in all sizes and genders.

In a world filled with superlatives, there is something to be said for the courage and honesty that breaks through, warts and all, when we witness the life and times of a common, everyday, run-of-the-mill guy. He works hard, cares deeply and takes life in stride. It seems the world is made up of too few regular guys – perhaps unsung but nevertheless deserving their dues.

Lauren Lev is an East Meadow resident and a direct marketing/advertising executive working on Long Island. She teaches advertising and marketing communications courses at the Fashion Institute of Technology/SUNY and LIU Post. Her story on a Jewish education program impacting our local community will appear in “Thin Threads: Real Stories of Hadassah Life Changing Moments” in late spring 2012.