Nobody will ever accuse Marc Mallory of being another Dan Mulhern.

And now you are going, “Marc and Dan who?”

Fair enough.

They are not household names, for sure, but give yourself a pat on the back if you knew that Dr. Mallory is currently the state’s first gentleman, and Dan the Man held the same title when Michigan’s first female governor was in office (surely you do remember Gov. Jennifer Granholm).

Anyhow, it is up to whomever is first gentleman or first lady to figure out what role — if any — they want to play.

When Dan and Jen got married, it was pretty much understood that he would be the one running for office. And it stayed that way until it became clear it would not stay that way forever.

She beat him to it and, on her first shot at elective office, he was calling her Attorney General Jennifer Granholm.

After he hounded her for years to move up the ladder, her second try resulted in the new title, governor.

He proceeded then to play “deputy governor,” as the wags in our town quickly labeled him, to the point that he became part of the political back and forth and even got some flack for having too much sway with his bride.

Now comes Dr. Mallory, who wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the inner-circle skull sessions with the governor and her team.

That was fine with him, as he was more than content to drill his clients’ teeth while she did whatever she did in the political game.

And it was even “finer” for her.

To prove the point, on the eve of her first State of the State message, she was asked if she had performed the speech in front of her husband.

One can still hear the loud Whitmer laugh.

“No! He’s a dentist!”

Nuf said.

Which brings us to one role he had to play once she was elected.

Let’s just say he didn’t know it was coming (poor guy).

One month after she was first elected governor, Getchen Whitmer and soon-to-be first gentleman Dr. Marc Mallory were watching soon-to-be-ex-governor Rick Snyder and first lady Sue Snyder being interviewed on the long-running WKAR-TV broadcast of “An Evening with the Governor.”

As she tells the story, Mallory leaned over to Whitmer and innocently inquired, “Do we have to do that?”

Perhaps much to his chagrin, she advised him the answer was yes.

Not once but eight times.

And every year since then, he has graciously fulfilled his part of the deal by sitting down to add his insider perspective on life as the husband to the sitting governor.

“Has anybody seen you on this?” was the first toss-up.

He pauses for a second and ad-libs: “Yeah. Mom.”

The governor laughs.

He gets a big smile.

How do people say you perform?

Remember, that question was going to a guy whose only performances in life have been on the other side of a drill.

Again, he deadpans the answer, with, “It passes muster (pause for effect) barely.”

Turns out that, during 2024, when she was out and about selling books, trying to sell Kamala Harris, and doing her governor schtick, his highlight of the year was learning that one of his three sons and his son’s wife are expecting in April.

“God willing,” as he explains he’s looking forward to being called Grandpa, which is “classic.”

Now, a couple of years into an accelerated retirement brought on by critics of the governor calling his office and making threats, he was asked to rate being out of the career loop on a 10-point scale.

“A nine or a 10,” he reveals without thinking about it.

The governor reflects that Mallory has an insatiable appetite to learn, and, once he lands on something, “He reads everything he can find … He’s an expert in so many things.”

You can tell he is comfortable in his world, which does not include working crowds.

“I do things. This and that. That’s enough,” he joyfully admits while studiously avoiding the public spotlight.

She, on the other hand, admits that, when she retires, it will be challenging for her.

“I need people (as she makes a fist to drive home the point). I need stuff to do. I love people. I get energy from that.”

And then this, which nails the personality contrast between the two: She’s working the state Democratic convention and is moving around the room with a marching band behind her, with her higher-office ambitions on full display.

And him?

“He’s holed up in the corner, reading a big history book,” she recalls.

And it works, as they quickly confess that they are having fun.

He stays in his lane, she in hers, and, together, “we’re very happy. Home is good … a refuge, because he’s not all in on the politics all the time. It’s like, it works. It works well,” the governor reports, and he nods his approval to her analysis, while maybe thinking at the same time, “Six down and two to go.”