Meat, naturally

Nick Offerman didn’t have to say anything.

And for those first few moments, he didn't. The absolutely packed Mondavi Center went wild anyway.

“First thing,” he began. “Lower your expectations.”

Saturday night, Offerman unveiled his new stand-up show Full Bush and proved he could do no wrong. His role as meat-loving, woodworking Ron Swanson on NBC's Parks and Recreation has solidified his place deep in the hearts of America's television-watching community.

“Some people don't have any imagination so they ask me what that title is referring to.”

In short, Full Bush is a cry against manscaping. He calls trimmers “sadists,” and people who wax “fucking psychos.”

This was an hour-and-a-half filled with advice for college students and demands to support craftspeople, but mostly silly ways to say “vagina.” And songs. That man sang a lot of songs.

On guitar—and his own handmade ukulele—Offerman crooned hypersexual jokes in lyric form. He sang one about the importance of carrying around a handkerchief, because you never know when you might get ejaculate in your eye. He sang woodworking-themed Johnny Cash covers (“I measure very, very carefully, it's true. … I chalk the line.”) and a cover of Carrie Underwood's “Jesus Take the Wheel,” in which instead of imploring Jesus to drive, the protagonist smokes a bowl with Jesus while driving. Equally impractical story lines.

A particularly memorable bit involved meat, naturally. Offerman talked about the best meal of his life, something called “beef on the stone.” It was “a wad of beef the size of a toddler’s head” on top of a volcanic rock, served with a soup bowl of garlic butter. Yes, I too am planning a trip to the island of Madeira to sample this wonder. I can't even describe what was so funny about it. I'm now entirely distracted by my imagined taste of “beef on the stone.”

Moving on.

Some other fun facts: Parks and Recreation and AMC's Mad Men apparently use the same props department down in Hollywood. That means, sometimes, Ron Swanson finds a memo to Don Draper in his Pawnee folders.

Other bits of comedic trivia: Offerman used to play the saxophone. He hates Carrie Underwood—they're totally not speaking anymore, not that they've ever spoken before. His favorite writer is novelist-poet-farmer Wendell Berry. Apparently they've been pen pals for 15 years, and now Offerman is co-producing a documentary about Berry.

The latter was a fine and interesting tidbit, but devoid of jokes. A decent portion of Full Bush wasn't trying to be funny, actually. Rather, Offerman doled out pleasant but all-too-common advice like, “do what makes you happy.”

And maybe it's not fair to expect such a multifaceted character like Offerman to deliver joke after joke all night. His Twitter handle, after all, states “actor-woodworker-husband,” not “comic.”

But still, there was something about his whole performance that felt incomplete. Maybe it was the heavy reliance on song. Or the frequent plugs for his future work: his documentary, his book Paddle Your Own Canoe, his live show next year with his wife Megan Mullally, entitled Summer of 69. No apostrophe.

Fans seemed delighted though, the night completely worth $50 for even just two things: Offerman's ridiculous, unbelievable, semi-masculine giggle and his rendition of the Li'l Sebastian tribute song “5,000 Candles in the Wind” from Parks and Recreation's season-three finale.