ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“Born in 1946, in the mountains of Western NC, I have always considered myself good, poor white trash. Some might say a member of the great “unwashed”, but I think we bathed as much as the next family, albeit in a galvanized washtub snuggled up to a pot-bellied wood stove in winter which scorched half the body while other extremities suffered frost bite. My father died when I was seven and our little family of four survived on social security, welfare and whatever we could scratch out of an acre of land and the surrounding forest and stream.
Over the years, I have maintained an amateur status as far as professions go and have been underpaid for work as an artist, stonemason, teacher, actor, shitake mushroom farmer, and even a short stint as director of a chamber of commerce.”
ABOUT THE BOOK
This is what Jerry has to say about his new memoir, Tales of a Mountain Misfit:
“I like to think that what distinguished me from my peers was a high IQ; but not to worry readers—20 years of hard drinking and drugging knocked the edge off that fine instrument, so what I offer you is not erudite blather but old-fashioned storytelling. These are the “Tales” of my life and time—my victories and defeats (often indistinguishable); my search for identity in terms of politics, religion and sex (not necessarily in that order); and an overriding awareness that all the strange encounters in my life are of my own choosing (although rarely on a conscious level).
I have included in my memoir a chapter about my brother who achieved more notoriety than me by changing his ‘profession’ from North Carolina Highway Patrolman to bank robber and even spent some less-than-quality time in the Charlotte, NC city jail with the celebrity guru Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh (known later as Osho).
There is an old aphorism that goes ‘A life unexamined is not worth living,’ but I also sense that a life over-analyzed is not worth reading about. So, enjoy! It’s just my story this time around.”