Brief essays by New York Times bestselling author Michael Perry on memorials and mercy, storms and farewells, family and fowl, barnyard ballets, the Sunday night sads, the wisdom of roadies, cucumbers and kindness, quotidian asparagus, appropo malaprops, pickleball, sushi boats and weird TV, the poetics of garlic, contrails, Mobius mind-grooves, quietude, Christmas tree injuries, cats, waffle houses, puffy partridges, bonfire bonhomie, dating in a hearse, and more. Gathered from his most recent "Roughneck Grace" columns, this is Michael Perry Bad “First thing I did today was back into the garage door. From the inside.” Releasing injured “Nature gives odds, not insurance.” Returning “Like hubcap spinners rotating at a stoplight, the sensation of a road trip lingers, even as we stare at the hearth.” “Find your happy place, they say, and so I am cutting up venison in the living room while watching the Packers.” Daughters “...sometimes it’d be nice to have Grandma back, just sitting over there in a rocking chair with her rifle.” “A pair of wrens whose eggs may not hatch, but proceed as if that is the only outcome.” “These days asking questions in public is like pulling the toilet handle while standing in the bowl.” Physical “To say I run like a farmer is to insult a lot of farmers...my form was that of a man jogging while carrying two pails of milk shortly after eating a lard sandwich.” On “How many times do we hold our children close under the guise of comforting them when in fact we are clinging to them as if they were the last buoy in a cold sea?”
Michael Perry is a New York Times bestselling author, humorist and radio show host from New Auburn, Wisconsin.
Perry’s bestselling memoirs include Population 485, Truck: A Love Story, Coop, and Visiting Tom. Raised on a small Midwestern dairy farm, Perry put himself through nursing school while working on a ranch in Wyoming, then wound up writing by happy accident. He lives with his wife and two daughters in rural Wisconsin, where he serves on the local volunteer fire and rescue service and is an amateur pig farmer. He hosts the nationally-syndicated “Tent Show Radio,” performs widely as a humorist, and tours with his band the Long Beds (currently recording their third album for Amble Down Records). He has recorded three live humor albums including Never Stand Behind A Sneezing Cow and The Clodhopper Monologues, is currently finishing his first young adult novel, and can be found online at www.sneezingcow.com.
Perry’s essays and nonfiction have appeared in numerous publications including The New York Times Magazine, Esquire, Backpacker, Outside, Runner’s World, Salon.com, and he is a contributing editor to Men’s Health magazine. His writing assignments have taken him to the top of Mt. Rainier with Iraq War veterans, into the same room as the frozen head of Ted Williams, across the United States with truckers and country music singers, and—once—buck naked into a spray-tan booth.
In the essay collection Off Main Street, Perry wrote of how his nursing education prepared him to become a writer by training him in human assessment, and he credits singer-songwriters like Steve Earle and John Prine with helping him understand that art need not wear fancy clothes. Above all, he gives credit to his parents, of whom he says, “Anything good is because of them, everything else is simply not their fault.” His mother taught him to read and filled the house with books; his father taught him how to clean calf pens, of which Perry has written, “a childhood spent slinging manure – the metaphorical basis for a writing career.”
Perry has recently been involved in several musical collaborations, including as lyricist for Grammy-nominated jazz pianist Geoffrey Keezer, and as co-writer (with Bon Iver frontman Justin Vernon) of the liner notes for the John Prine tribute album “Broken Hearts & Dirty Windows.” Perry also collaborated with Vernon and Flaming Lips lead singer Wayne Coyne on a project that began when Vernon approached Perry and said, “Say, you’re a nurse…” The results were bloody, but then that was the point.
Of all his experiences, Perry says the single most meaningful thing he has ever done is serving 12 years beside his neighbors on the New Auburn Area Fire Department.
Mike says:
If I had to sum up my ‘career’ in one word, it would be gratitude. I get to write and tell stories all around the country, then come home to be with my family and hang out at the local feed mill complaining about the price of feeder hogs. It’s a good life and I’m lucky to have it.
Peaceful Persistence, the latest book of Essays by Michael Perry, is an examination of everyday life that expounds on the human existence (excuse the sentence if too heady, but it’s what came out). I think it’s time for Mr. Perry and myself to admit something. His articles and memoirs are advice/self-help books. Not that he is bossy or direct. He simply says this is how my life goes and I am pretty happy. And just in case you think I want to be your guru, here are my faults and my mistakes. He takes the time to inform us he does not have a better grasp on how to live your life than anyone else.
Its advice. Yet like good advice, he lets people come to their own conclusion. His advice is live a life. If you want live your best life, go follow Gwyneth Paltrow.
This is how Mr. Perry’s writing seems to me in this book: Perry picks the topics that hit him as important. He describes it well, being careful not to be too flowery and precious about it. His writing announces I am writing simply and not getting too flowery. Then in the next line he assembles the perfect words with imagery and (at times) assonance.
Perry uses big words when he needs them and everyday language when it calls for it. He is a musician with his music but knows people don’t want to hear the drum solo.
In this book his humor is a dead-on hit for me. And as usual he writes about the experience of living in Wisconsin in a way I want to say it.
PS- I bought the T-Shirt as well at Sneezingcow.com
This review doesn’t really have anything to do with the content itself, it’s more for my memory. It is a very good book of essays, especially for those of us in the northern states who can relate to some of the lifestyle.
I would maybe put 4 stars, but this copy had underlined passages from my grandma who passed away 2 years ago (she was rereading parts of it right before she passed).
I have had a difficult time with her passing, and every time I saw her markings it felt like a gift.
A quote from Michael Perry, underlined by my grandma: “I’m going to work to see the future through the eyes of those younger than I. Hear it in the words of those who speak differently than I. Discover it via the minds of those who conceive of a world that includes me but need not center me”
Thank you grandma, for the opportunity to read the words that stood out as your truths.
The books of Michael Perry are the only ones I buy brand-new, from the author, without worrying about reviews from others. That being said, I do wish I'd been able to read these essays one a week, as they were written. At least it would have been nice to have publication dates appended to them... most are timeless, but a few referenced current events. Well, since I do own it, I can reread it. Maybe I'll pace myself, instead of reading it within a couple of months I'll truly savor the pieces.
I could bookdart a lot, but for now all I did was note that his family thought Biosphere 2 worth the ticket (so, I'll consider, again, a visit), and:
" I am not yet cured of the joy we feel as the land comes back to life. It's a classic Midwestern post-Calvinist guilt sort of thing, that in order to appreciate good times, we must first suffer hardship. That we must earn our sunburn, that we must wade through drifts before we wade through the surf, that we must slip on the ice before we drop it in the lemonade."
This book is comprised of the weekly newspaper articles from the author. A quick read, reminding me of my childhood living in northern Wisconsin (not far from the author's home). If you enjoy the "down home" type of book, you will enjoy this!