I’ve searched and searched. Looked high and low. Hither and yon. Here, there, and everywhere. I’ve questioned the authorities, and unsatisfied, I questioned authority and investigated the matter on my own. I’m ready to make a pronouncement. This is the least interesting man in the world.

If it was just a 17-minute video about trying to fix a busted generator, he wouldn’t win, place or show. Tedium is not enough. This fellow graduates to the big time, goes from single equis to two equis, when he decides to make a three-video epic out of his busted Generac. That’s when he seizes the prize, the title of The Least Interesting Man in the World.

Look upon him, and weep, or laugh, or simply see yourself in this fellow, my fellow men. There but for the grace of God go you. We’re all like him. Our long suffering wives and girlfriends smile and nod and hold the camera while we drone on about topics we know nothing about, and fumble around with machinery like bra clasps in the backseat. All the while trying to sound like we know what we’re talking about. They know we don’t. Know, but not say.

You can sense his wife just off camera. Her life is one of intense introspection compared to his. She doesn’t concern herself with trivialities like fixing this potentially useful generator. Her mind is filled with loftier thoughts. She’s thinking about shoes. She’s wondering if he’ll finish in time for her to make it to the mall to shop for shoes. She’s planning on shopping for shoes online if the mall closes before the memory card in the camera is full. She’s calculating whether if she pans down a little, she can get a shot of her shoes into the frame.

Her man is right there in front of her. Sweaty, unshaven, using tools. Her mind really starts to race. Naughty thoughts start to creep into her head: I wonder if I can lie, and tell him the battery in the camera is dead, and get him to start building me a shoe closet instead of fooling around with this gotdamn battery thingie?

They were made for each other.