My Story

At the ripe old age of 27 I started grad school and met a beautiful woman. Four years later I had graduated, married the hottie, started a new “career” and moved into my first home as a husband. Life was (and is) good and time flew by. All of a sudden, out of nowhere I had an epiphany: I had become the very thing I spent my entire childhood swearing I would never become: I was a “boring married guy.”

Long gone was the independence and the general attitude of “whatever” that I had so vociferously embraced in my 20’s. No more impromptu road trips to Vegas. Now I get excited about grocery store sales papers…

I have chosen to embrace my former inner nemesis. Instead of simply accepting my fate with a resigned complacence, I choose to triumph in my banality. Further still, I propose a new hero. I propose that “boring married guy” (henceforth abbreviated as “BMG”) is not the butt of single-guy jokes, but rather a role model to be aspired to and admired. Instead of gathering around the water cooler to hear stories of bachelor conquests, we should converge to hear stories, nay epic legends, of BMG’s new patio garden. BMG is the new leader of a new world.

A BMG can take many forms. Maybe you crunch the numbers 40+ hours a week so you can afford your kid’s soccer league. Maybe you work nights to support your pregnant wife. Maybe you stay home with your kids while your wife wins the bread. Whether you live on a 100-acre ranch, in a two-story suburban cliche, or a studio apartment, you are welcome. No matter what you do or where you do it, if you do it for love of wife, family and country, I welcome you to the BMG family.

Our membership is open but not tracked. Our ranks are inspired and loyal, yet without structure. I propose that we are all leaders in a new revolution, and that every BMG is equal to the next, but superior to transient and vapid pop culture. I hereby invite you to join and find your true calling…

We take out the trash. We kill the spiders and change the light bulbs. We drink light beer, and chardonnay with our wives. We go to Target on a Friday night. We watch football with kids on our laps and we feed the pets we inherited from our wives. We carry the ice chest at the beach and we man the grill on the 4th of July. We read the paper in the bathroom and we use whatever the hell shampoo our wives happen to buy. We go with the flow, but we are more powerful than any river on Earth. Gentlemen, we are, the BORING MARRIED GUY.

Welcome to glory…