Mayor of Pawnee
He's a true family guy. Commits to family breakfast, thanks his wife for a full stomach and a crisp collar before he heads off to work. Smiles on his way, hums his favorite tune. Daily challenges are mere obstacles to conquer in support of his team. A little sweat is no bother so long as he gets home to his favorite girls by 5. You'd never hear an unkind word leave his lips. Sunday's always begin with a Church service, he proudly sports his sweater vests and fervently seeks the silver lining,
and he is the most unpopular person in the group.
The victim of all pranks. The most likely to be excluded. The butt of every joke. The first one blamed. Whispered about at work meetings. His weaknesses are magnified and his strengths missed like Aghalor that one Sunday (sorry, buddy all in good fun!).
They didn't even know his real name.
In all fairness, he has a lot of competition:
Leslie Knope: bright, blonde, bushy-tailed with a maniacal ambition.
Ron Swanson: Webster's definition of man is followed by a photo of this man. Give him all the bacon and eggs you have.
Tom Haverford: Cashmere, velvet candy cane.
Donna: something between the Evil Queen and Shere Khan.
Ben: Geek level 2000, gets to the next level in video games by being so lovable it hurts.
Ann: Prettiest ever. Nurse of the year.
Chris: The (really shiny, clean) version of Iron Man with a tie clip.
Andy: goes on to be a Guardian of the Galaxy.
April: like that horror movie you had to watch but knew you shouldn't.
It's easy to see why Garry (Larry, Terry, Jerry, Perry) pales in comparison, right? He's not the most exciting person. He doesn't show up with the hot tub party bus or the leadership mojo. He lacks the striking good looks and boisterous spirit. His man card is made of card stock and he laughs at his own jokes.
Then comes my favorite episode.
All year long, Tom, Andy, April, and Donna have contributed to a team fund they've entitled the "Jerry Dinner." Every time Jerry (Garry) does something laughable, they throw in a dollar. By Christmas, with $500 between them, they drag Ann along with them to their expensive "treat-yo-self" (at Jerry's expense) holiday dinner. Ann continuously expresses her disapproval of their cruel motives and tugs at Donna's conscience. Donna finally decides the end doesn't justify the means, and turns around to head to Garry's house to invite him to dinner with the gang.
They pull up in Garry's driveway to find that he had his own dinner plans.
Local big shots, outside friends, and family are all hustling about the Gergich home for their annual Christmas party. The uninvited five are thrown aback into the their frosty car seats, shocked at Gary's nerve.
Karma hits back like Gayle Gergich's egg nog.
Gary never diverted blame, pointed a finger, or allowed the obstacles of the day to rough up his inner peace. He simply built a bridge above the trolls. (THEN, in the final season, they make Garry the Mayor, and he is once again thrilled to serve his community.)
We have all been mean-girl Donna, brutal April, conceited Tom, and careless Andy. But when we find ourselves as Garry, it can be a painful, lonely road.
Remember what it feels like to be Garry.
Or at least don't be shocked when you don't get invited to the Christmas party.
John 15:12
and he is the most unpopular person in the group.
The victim of all pranks. The most likely to be excluded. The butt of every joke. The first one blamed. Whispered about at work meetings. His weaknesses are magnified and his strengths missed like Aghalor that one Sunday (sorry, buddy all in good fun!).
They didn't even know his real name.
In all fairness, he has a lot of competition:
Leslie Knope: bright, blonde, bushy-tailed with a maniacal ambition.
Ron Swanson: Webster's definition of man is followed by a photo of this man. Give him all the bacon and eggs you have.
Tom Haverford: Cashmere, velvet candy cane.
Donna: something between the Evil Queen and Shere Khan.
Ben: Geek level 2000, gets to the next level in video games by being so lovable it hurts.
Ann: Prettiest ever. Nurse of the year.
Chris: The (really shiny, clean) version of Iron Man with a tie clip.
Andy: goes on to be a Guardian of the Galaxy.
April: like that horror movie you had to watch but knew you shouldn't.
It's easy to see why Garry (Larry, Terry, Jerry, Perry) pales in comparison, right? He's not the most exciting person. He doesn't show up with the hot tub party bus or the leadership mojo. He lacks the striking good looks and boisterous spirit. His man card is made of card stock and he laughs at his own jokes.
Then comes my favorite episode.
All year long, Tom, Andy, April, and Donna have contributed to a team fund they've entitled the "Jerry Dinner." Every time Jerry (Garry) does something laughable, they throw in a dollar. By Christmas, with $500 between them, they drag Ann along with them to their expensive "treat-yo-self" (at Jerry's expense) holiday dinner. Ann continuously expresses her disapproval of their cruel motives and tugs at Donna's conscience. Donna finally decides the end doesn't justify the means, and turns around to head to Garry's house to invite him to dinner with the gang.
They pull up in Garry's driveway to find that he had his own dinner plans.
Local big shots, outside friends, and family are all hustling about the Gergich home for their annual Christmas party. The uninvited five are thrown aback into the their frosty car seats, shocked at Gary's nerve.
Karma hits back like Gayle Gergich's egg nog.
Gary never diverted blame, pointed a finger, or allowed the obstacles of the day to rough up his inner peace. He simply built a bridge above the trolls. (THEN, in the final season, they make Garry the Mayor, and he is once again thrilled to serve his community.)
We have all been mean-girl Donna, brutal April, conceited Tom, and careless Andy. But when we find ourselves as Garry, it can be a painful, lonely road.
Remember what it feels like to be Garry.
Or at least don't be shocked when you don't get invited to the Christmas party.
John 15:12
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