Da do, Ron, Ron: Nick Offerman of 'Parks'

Ron Swanson of NBC's "Parks and Recreation" (Thursdays at 8:30 p.m.) has become TV's go-to guy for video virility.

Defiantly deadpan yet remarkably nuanced, Ron, as portrayed by Nick Offerman, is a pillar of male self-sufficiency.

Ron prizes meat, woodworking, facial hair and the least amount of government possible -- which is funny since he is a government official, director of the parks department in Pawnee, Ind. Thus does his sacred mission become one of slashing his department's productivity to ever-more-negligible levels.

This puts him in regular conflict with his underling, Leslie Knope (series star Amy Poehler), whose little-engine-that-could progressivism drives her to find new ways for the parks department to serve Pawnee citizens.

"Ron Swanson was very much designed in a two-dimensional way at the outset: Here's our clear antagonist for this bright and shiny protagonist," says Offerman, 41. But quickly, in his hands, Ron gained a third dimension, emerging as a fully formed he-man, not a caricature.

"There's so much luck involved in mixing up a pot of goulash," Offerman muses, "and you're not sure exactly which ingredient is going to make you say, 'You know, that's a delicious meal.' Sometimes, it's the cumin that takes it over the top. If I were ever referred to as the cumin on 'Parks and Recreation,' I would consider it high praise."

PRAISING THE CAST But when praised, Offerman adopts a very un-Swansonian tone of humility, diverting that praise to the writers of the show, and to his fellow cast members.

"In my cast, I'm surrounded by Michael Jordans," he declares, "and I'm happy to just be a petrified tree stump where I get a laugh because a bird lands on me and picks an insect out of my hair."

As Offerman speaks, he looks very much like Ron, despite the fancy duds: a camel-colored Armani suit, which he wore when he wed sitcom queen Megan Mullally a while back. Ron's proud bushy arc of a mustache is on full display, as are his arresting, if somehow simultaneously dreamy blue eyes. And the voice is unmistakably Ron's -- resolute and declarative -- even if Offerman embroiders what he says with plummy chuckles Ron would never condone.

Recently, viewers were reminded of Ron's no-nonsense predilections when he announced that the Pawnee bowling alley houses his favorite restaurant, its menu featuring only a hot dog and a cheeseburger.

And on that episode, he demonstrated his bowling technique, which might apply to most things he does: "Straight down the middle. No hook. No spin. No fuss. Anything more," he sniffed, "and this becomes figure skating."

His failed marriages to two ex-wiveswomen (both named Tammy), have not been so assured, including the one to the ex played by Mullally, in a recurring guest role as the Pawnee Library director and devilish temptress whom Ron is helpless to resist. But his vulnerability to certain women only makes him seem manlier: Even Samson succumbed to a woman's wiles.

NICK VS. RON In real life, Offerman has been married for a decade to Mullally, "and we're still disgustingly affectionate and pretty crazy about each other."

Offerman's romantic life isn't the only evidence that he and Ron have their differences.

"I do love the outdoors, I do love woodworking," Offerman says. "But, unlike Ron, I get along in the modern world -- I can send emails. And I'm much goofier than he is."

Like Ron, Offerman loves meat.

"I pay attention to my health. I exercise. But no," he chuckles dismissively, "I've never considered the merits of vegetarianism. If Nick Offerman got the Meat Tornado" -- an enormous dish Ron savored every bite of in one memorable episode -- "He probably wouldn't finish it. But he'd enjoy the hell out of two-thirds of it."