About Jerry

A redneck with a passport

Most Redneck Dad. I'm not sure if that's an honor or a warning label.

I grew up in the Rockies — snow fort wars, potato harvests, an outhouse I once got locked inside of, and a mother who woke me up with a bucket of water when the alarm clock failed. We didn't have much. We had stories, and we had each other, and somehow that turned out to be plenty.

Then computers happened. I went from a kid selling night crawlers to a technician in California, and from there to an international trainer hauling the original IBM portable computer through airports — an early beast of a machine that looked and felt like carrying a heavy sewing machine. I wore a fishing hat covered in pins from everywhere I'd been. People underestimated me in every terminal I walked through. That turned out to be an advantage.

Why I wrote it

My kids and my wife finally convinced me that the stories we've lived — and survived — deserved to be written down before time sanded off the details. These are the tales told and retold at family gatherings, the ones that make us laugh until we can't breathe, shake our heads, and say, "Yep… that sounds about right."

The one that pushed it over the edge: my daughter Amy proudly retelling the legendary family classic — the day her dad, armed with nothing but a BB gun and wearing nothing but his underwear, went face-to-face with a wild hog. According to her, that's the day I officially won the peer contest for "Most Redneck Dad."

This book is dedicated to my kids — Jeff, Jason, Aleina, Amy, Julia, Mary, and Kevin. Each one a character in their own right. Always part of the story, sometimes the cause of the story, and always ready for a good laugh.

My humor

Dry, self-deprecating, and occasionally salty. I'd rather be the punchline than the hero. If a story makes me look good, I'm probably lying, and if it makes me look like an idiot, it's gospel truth.

The redneck philosophy

  • Being underestimated is a head start. Let 'em.
  • You can fix damn near anything with what's already in the truck.
  • Grit gets you there. Grace decides who's still speaking to you when you arrive.
  • Never be too proud to laugh at yourself — somebody's gonna do it anyway.
  • Carry your past into your future on purpose, not by accident.

Come along for the ride

New stories, deleted scenes, and the occasional photo I probably shouldn't share.

Now go read about the book →