Off Ramp: Adventures and Heartache in the American Elsewhere

Off Ramp - Adventures and Heartache in the American Elsewhere Washington Post staff writer Hank Stuever (his work appears in the Style section) collects his articles about the almost-mainstream. Stuever enters the stories as a journalist, but he stays because they resonate with him. Whether he's talking about the creator of Wonder Woman, the owner of a skating rink, or the Murrah building bombing, he finds the anecdote that explains the people, not just the situation. Stuever understands the nature of strip mall America, and it's where he focuses his attention. Although many of his subjects are ridiculous, he treats them with respect. He's the same age as I am, so he feels nostalgic in the same ways for the same cultural icons. His cadence stays with me for hours after I finish reading. Who Should Read it: Anyone who likes the radio program "This American Life". Anyone who wants to better understand that "other America" (i.e. not the big coastal cities). Reading it in two sittings was, for me, a mistake -- the stories tend to be between wistful and sad. I would have been better off reading just one essay at a time.

Welcome to the crazy world of storage unit subculture, Texas weddings and the discount funeral industry -- before Six Feet Under made it cool. Off Ramp is a delightful read; Hank Stuever's insight and dry whit shine through in this book. Comparisons to David Sedaris are inevitable, as both will make you alternatively laugh out loud and wince from stinging observations. Stuever's background as a journalist -- in the best sense of the term -- makes him a keen commentator on the bizarreness of our world, with little glimpses of his personality, bias and foibles mixed in. As a reader of the Washington Post, I have often found myself in the middle of a hilarious piece, only then remembering to look at the byline to find Stuever's name. Read this book for the humor, recommend it for the reflection of yourself you can't share with anyone else.

Stuever has a unique voice, at once hilarious and compassionate, with a great eye and ear for the odd, off-beat and comic detail that most people breeze past on their way somewhere else. Whenever I stumble across a new Hank Stuever story, I drop everything else and read the whole thing through. He's just so damn good. Terrifically human stuff that captivates.

This book consists largely (entirely?) of reprints of Stuever's articles for the style section of the Washington Post, so I guess that it's kosher to review it before it actually appears in stores next week. Every day I turn to the Style section hoping to see Hank's byline, because he is simply the funniest man alive. (Yeah, David Sedaris, I'm talking to you. You don't even come close.) Through patient observations of small details, he persuades that our world is ridiculous, with its plastic chairs and its star-spangled panties on Wonder Woman. But instead of laughing at it, he celebrates this ridiculousness because it's these skewed aspects of our culture that make it so wonderful.Stuever's not simply a humorist; some of his essays (especially the appreciations of recently deceased figures in American culture) reveal a wide sentimental streak. But all of his essays make the world enchanted again, and are could melt the heart of the most jaded of cynics.

Full disclosure: I am a friend of Hank Stuever's. But I am a friend of a lot of writers, and Hank is the only one whose every word I read, no matter the subject matter. "You know Hank Stuever?!" people ask me, because his stuff is that imaginative and that good. I read many of Hank's pieces from "Off Ramp" when they appeared in the newspaper. Years (and months) later, the book still managed to surprise, entertain and move me. I have never read a more compelling take of the Oklahoma City bombing, and of course I have never read any other take on self-storage facilities. Who knew? The book is clever but never mean. Hank notices things other people don't; he finds great stories nearly everywhere; he understands how popular culture and regular life intertwine; and, most important, he treats reality show contestants and funeral home directors and sofa repairmen with respect.