The young woman glanced ’round her room
Portending her weary future with gloom –
“There’s nothing for me here but doom,
Why can’t I live like Everyone Else?”
The laundry, forlorn, piled high on a chair
Toys and books all scattered on stairs
Weekly meal prep ne’er brought to bear
As, she was sure, by Everyone Else.
Everyone Else always gets up at five
Meditates, caffeinates, runs 6 miles to thrive
The carpool planned, all ready to drive
Lo…it’s easy for Everyone Else.
The Everyone Else understand proper living,
Work out their plans, prioritize giving
Switch out the linens; hey it ain’t no big thing
As long as you’re Everyone Else.
So she’ll give up on trying to make all the beds,
Leave late for work, and keep in her head
All of the tasks that fill her with dread
It’s hopeless, save for Everyone Else.
The Ballad of Everyone Else, also known variously as The Song of The “Other People” and Living Like My Perfect Next-Door Neighbor Steve, is a traditional American folk lament passed down in the oral tradition since the early 1970s (although some scholars point to origins as early as 1947 with the publishing of The Good Housekeeping Housekeeping Book,* a volume surreptitiously designed to convince readers that clothing made from rayon is a good idea). Sometimes sung to various melodies, it is most often spoken in smaller, improvised phrases, as in “Everyone Else seems to have their $h!t together.”
The ballad centers on the sadness of a young mother, comparing herself, her family, and her home to a mysterious band of people known as The Everyone Else. According to accounts of those who have heard it sung or spoken live, the song resonates in particular with the tribe of women who Work Outside The Home. However, all genders have been reported to mutter it under their breath, especially in the month of December.
Artist rendering of a female Everyone Else.
It is unclear from the stanzas who, exactly, the Everyone Else is. The belief in the mythological tribe began, some say, as part of a post-WWII propaganda campaign touting the ideal nuclear family. The messaging resulted in a conviction that in the midst of working 40-60 hour work weeks, taking care of children, socializing, housekeeping, exercising, breathing, brushing teeth, and planning and responsibility for most activities (especially those associated with schooling), somehow the Everyone Else never screws anything up. Characteristics attributed to them include, but are in no way limited to:
- Color-coding the contents of their closets;
- Consistently arriving five minutes early to all commitments;
- Routinely using a planner;
- But, simultaneously, never having to write anything down;
- Ironing their sheets;
- Always having a comfortable, prepared guest room;
- Grocery shopping once – and only once – per week;
- Parking two vehicles in the garage;
- Matching all of their children’s socks;
- Dusting their ceiling fans;
- Always knowing where their keys and sunglasses are;
- Remembering and celebrating the birthdays of all nuclear and extended family members, as well as close friends;
- Sending holiday cards every year;
- Volunteering snacks for every elementary class party and soccer practice;
- Keeping a variety of houseplants (including fresh basil for their family recipe Caprese salad) alive and thriving;
- Opening all their mail every day; and
- Eating all refrigerated leftovers (before growing fur).
While sociologists agree that many people are capable of engaging in more than one of these behaviors (even at the same time), it should be noted that the absolutist, idealistic lifestyle of The Everyone Else has been conclusively disproven to exist. Supposed members of the tribe, when pressed for evidence of their perfection, are simply unable to show the consistency, mental health, or lack of under-eye bags to support the assumption.
Still, The Ballad of Everyone Else remains enormously popular. Entire cottage industries have sprung up to assist in efforts to become Everyone Else, spurred on by the influence of such modern annoyances as TikTok and Instagram. Perhaps in the future, additional verses will be added that include descriptions of individuality, acceptance, and dog hair on the couch.
“Comparison is the death of true self-contentment.” – John Powell
*No slam intended on the book – I hear there are some great ideas for stain removal in it. Especially for rayon.
This is brilliant! You are so creative – and so on point. No one can maintain that level of ‘put togetherness’ and be human. It is simply impossible. I am printing this to read as needed.
Hi Diane – thanks so much. I’m happy it resonated for you!
What a great reminder about judging ourselves by comparison to others! The Ballad of Everyone Else needs to be replaced with a new ballad – maybe “I’m Happy to be Good Enough for Me”.
Hi Jonda – that sounds like a nice follow up! Thanks for stopping by.
I had never heard this before. I love it. Thank you for sharing.
We have to stop comparing ourselves to others. Each person has their strengths and weaknesses. It is OK to be not perfect.
I never of this ballad, but appreciate its message. What is that quote, “Comparison is the thief of joy?” While some might excel in the organizational areas the ballad sings forth, it’s probable that there are other areas they find challenging.
And truly that’s where the not comparing comes in. Finding your way forward in life on your terms, given your circumstances, proclivities, and strengths IS the secret to a well-lived life. Perfection is not a worthy pursuit for most things.
Well done! So clever:)
Comparison is the thief of joy, especially when we compare ourselves to an artificial reality. It’s such a waste of time and talent to self-castigate.
I’m totally laughing at the one about ironing sheets. I’ll add in “cuts lunch up into cute shapes.” I tell Moms that those who pack fancy lunches enjoy this activity as a hobby. If you don’t like doing that, that’s perfectly ok! Do you own special things. 🙂
Oh yeah, you’d never catch me doing that cute shapes thing. Or writing the sweet, motivational notes to put into lunch boxes. They had to understand I loved them from other things :-). Thanks so much, Seana!
OMG, you’re a genius. I am laughing at how this faux sociological deep-dive rings so true. Ironing the sheets! (I remember my mom used to iron my father’s pajamas, back 50 years ago, and I remember thinking what a ridiculous concept it was; she thinks so too, now, but back then she didn’t want to feel like the woman in the ballad!)
Tom Lehrer and Al Yankovic better be looking over their shoulders!
Lehrer and Yankovic – I am not worthy. Thanks so much, Julie!
We all need this reminder from time to time, and you have said it all so well. Thank you for reminding us that “Everyone Else” doesn’t have their sh** together either, because they don’t exist! Ha! Thank you.
Thank you, Jana! I’m so glad you stopped by The Stuff, and happy that the post resonated.
HA! Thanks for sharing, especially the ballad at the beginning.
We must all be singing that to ourselves not realizing most people that seemed pulled together have the same struggles.