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Where I Come From: Stories from the Deep South

Product ID : 46695514


Galleon Product ID 46695514
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About Where I Come From: Stories From The Deep South

Product Description In this irresistible collection of wide-ranging and endearingly personal columns culled from his best-loved pieces in Southern Living and Garden & Gun, Pulitzer Prize–winning author Rick Bragg muses on everything from his love of Tupperware to the decline of country music; from the legacy of Harper Lee to the metamorphosis of the pickup truck; and from the best way to kill fire ants to why any self-respecting Southern man worth his salt should carry a good knife.   An ode to the stories and the history of the South, crackling with tenderness, wit, and deep affection, Where I Come From celebrates “a litany of great talkers, blue-green waters, deep casseroles, kitchen-sink permanents, lying fishermen, haunted mansions, and dogs that never die, things that make this place more than a dotted line on a map or a long-ago failed rebellion, even if only in some cold-weather dream.” Evoking the beauty and the odd particularity of humble origins, Bragg's searching vision, generous humor, and richly nuanced voice bring a place, a people, and a world vividly to life. Review “A dose of humor or nostalgia or adventure or, quite often, descriptions of food that make you feel you can’t live another minute without a plate of fried chicken.” — The Tampa Bay Times “Bragg’s unfeigned writing, knowing truisms and funny advice holds strong throughout this stress-allaying book. . . . It’s a fascinating glimpse into the elaborate, emotional filing system that is a writer’s mind.” — The Atlanta Journal-Constitution “Without even trying, Bragg explains why it is humans came to believe in miracles.” — USA Today   “Another heapin’ helpin’ of feel-good musings.” — Pittsburgh Post-Gazette “Vintage Bragg: comforting, thought-provoking and as heartfelt as it gets. . . . [His] voice is as rich as ever as he finds fresh ways of telling stories both hilarious and poignant. . . . Where I Come From is a series of vignettes—little jewels on family, faith, food and Fords.” — BookPage About the Author Rick Bragg is the author of twelve books, including the best-selling Ava’s Man and All Over but the Shoutin’. He writes a monthly column for Southern Living, teaches writing at the University of Alabama, and is also a regular contributor to Garden & Gun magazine. He lives in Alabama. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. The Outcast   I should have given up, I suppose, after the goat.   He was not a regular goat. He was more part goat, part rhi­noceros, about the size of a small horse, but with devil horns. He looked out on the world through spooky yellow eyes, and smelled like . . . well, I do not have the words to say. My little brother, Mark, bought him at the sprawling trade day in Collinsville, Ala­bama, for seventy-five dollars; I would have given him a hundred not to. The first thing the creature did, after coming into our pos­session, was butt the side of a truck. You have to be one terror of a goat to assault a Ford. His name, my little brother said, was Ramrod.   “Why would you buy such a thing?” I asked my brother. He told me he planned to purchase a bunch of nanny goats to “get with” Ramrod, after whatever courtship it was that goats required. Ram­rod would beget little Ramrods, who would beget more, till the whole world was covered in ill-tempered mutant goats. I think, sometimes, we did not love that boy enough.   Ramrod moved into his new home in a beautiful mountain pas­ture in northeastern Alabama, and, first thing, butted heads with my mother’s equally ill-tempered donkey, Buckaroo. Buck stag­gered a few steps, and his head wobbled drunkenly from side to side, but he did not fall unconscious. This, in Buck’s mind, consti­tuted a victory, and he trotted off, snorting and blowing, like he was somebody.   My point is, Ramrod was a goat not to be messed with.   Later that year, I was fishing with my brothers in the stock pond in that same pasture. The water was mostly clear, and you could see the