Frankly Put: Philosophies of “That Guy”
Who is “that guy”? “That guy” is a concept. It is a philosophy, some might say and in this following post, I will attempt to articulate just how far my mind sometimes goes in a bid to make it make sense.
Have you ever experienced a human who walked into a room and commanded it before his first word? Have you ever sat with a person who seemed to articulate the human experience with words you wished you could? A man whose talents shone through his skin like breathing and he could turn anything to gold just by his touch. He himself looked like if you could steal a glance at the soles of his feet, you would see God’s signature. Even worse, he makes failure look like a graceful misunderstanding of fate and consequence.
I’m staring down this barrel of a gun cocked with a quarter-life crisis and I’m meeting myself over and over in the discussions with friends in the same place of life. I think that as men, just to let you in slightly into the psyche, we believe that to some degree there is something out there for us that will allow us to be “that guy”. I think it is healthy to have that principle buried somewhere inside you like a seed of hope in the possible chance.
The malleability of the concept is what I think is most interesting. It’s like this existence that leaves an indelible mark on the surface of human souls. That guy is the guy who you call. It is naive and sometimes deluded to constantly wish to be that guy but all men want is that. It is specific though, like beauty — it exists in the eye of the beholder. In some ways that makes it something that is all the more craved. A personal vendetta to face on our deathbed.
To be on the receiving end of that “I know a guy” call. To be the force that stands between problem and solution when all seems lost. Someone worth remembering simply because they exist. The person who makes the world a better place because he stepped in it. He makes language sweet because he speaks it. He makes air more filling because he breathes it in like you and you think for a second that surely, he couldn’t be just as human as you. Though he is.
Past notions of what it meant to be that guy vary for most young boys. The big muscle man who could move mountains. The great sportsman with many achievements, who carried the young boy’s favourite sports team. The unwavering action star in that one movie with guns and explosions. In some cases, that one professor who seemed to carry answers to life’s problems in his back pockets. The principled man who never grew tired, day in and day out. In some lucky cases, an unsuspecting father.
Present thoughts of what it means, I find, are slightly more nuanced and complicated. Superman is not an impervious man but a resilient one. Those bulging muscles are all fine and dandy but they are also all for show and are mostly ‘roided in unhealthy life cycles. The sportsman is a personality soaked in arrogance and overconfidence that in some cases is the team’s downfall. The action star is riddled with addictions and human problems off the screen. The professor is still searching for his own purposeful life. The principled man is fearful, insecure and stuck in his ways. And dad? Dad’s just…. dad. He is trying.
I figure that the happiest men tend to be the ones with the ability to hold and protect the space for their inner child to still wonder. Maybe “that guy” is found not in the caricature but in the principle. Still, it’s just as enjoyable to chase the expression as it is the art behind it. It’s in the strength that the muscles represent. The uncontested competence in the things we do. The almost fictional courage and bravery where it counts for the people who count. The mental capacity to hold life’s questions and place answers without fear of self-contradiction. The discipline to show up with your best every day, especially on days when your best may not be the best.
Future ideas of what it could be sometimes have me swinging between self and external validations. How does one concoct the right mixture of audacity and humility? How does one present their ideas to the unforgiving world and stand by them in the face of scrutiny and distaste? I don’t know how many will read up until here because this has shaped into a very “manosphere” reflection. However, I think that this is a very open avenue for ladies. A mother raising a son. A sister guiding their brother. A spouse refining the man she loves. Heck, perhaps indirectly, questions for a lady trying to be “that girl”.
Whilst all this is true and all, I don’t think at the end of the day that one gets to covet this concept as a prize. I don’t think it’s particularly a goal. Perhaps, a byproduct of lifestyle. See living has its ups and downs though. Self-doubt has a way of creeping in no matter how confident you are. They used to say something in basketball back when I played (competitively — I still think I can dust off those shoes and not embarrass myself on the court… I digress) “Don’t do it until you are good at it, do it until you cannot be bad at it.” I think it applies to everything, even failure. Ironic as that may be.
I think therefore I am, then again these are just philosophies of “that guy” …. To put it Frankly
