"Now, really, can’t you see why you wouldn’t like it here—not for a visit or, most certainly, not as a place to call home. Those who do live here know that the Upper Peninsula is a dismal region of forbiddingly frigid weather, dark gloomy forests, hordes of biting insects, dangerous wild animals and somewhat quirky human residents.

Oh, sure, on first impression during your brief vacation the land may seem like a paradise, the perfect respite from your city life, and we may seem normal, even a bit friendly. But we have our own brand of misery from being cold and isolated too long. Don’t expect us to give you welcoming bouquets or, despite what you may have heard, sing quaint shanty songs for your amusement.

...

Keep in mind that we live here in the wilds far away from any organized law enforcement and we don’t follow the usual norms of human interaction. So, don’t get too friendly or trusting. Everyone up here seems normal until you get to know them.

The quirks emerge in full blown adoles­ cent humor, especially when we are forced to go “down below.” Even persons with college degrees and responsible jobs have difficulty controlling their inner adolescent:

The Dismal Seepage Community School District sent Ron Tresedder down to the lower Peninsula one summer to update his teaching credentials. Ron had been assigned to teach a new course on human reproduction for high school students in the fall.

Held at Michigan State University, the summer workshop was taught by Dr. Harold Gordon, physiologist and expert on the topic of sex education. Perhaps to emphasize his expertise, Dr. Gordon always wore a long white lab coat, unbut­toned, over his street clothes.

On the first day of class, Dr. Gordon strode purposefully into the lecture hall holding aloft a clear glass bottle with an object immersed in liquid. Walking close to the front row of students he held the specimen even higher.

Ron noted that the professor’s left hand was in the pocket of his trousers. Clearing his throat for attention, Dr. Gordon pronounced “In my hand I hold a diseased penis.” The class was momentarily transfixed until Ron, unable to inhibit his inner adolescent, called out from his seat in the back row, “What ya got in the bottle, Doc?”

A quaint shanty song, you say? You just don't find that sort of thing up here

"One other thing: Don’t tell Yoopers to have a nice day. They know what kind of miserable day they are bound to have, the same they have endured all their lives. Cheery advice to experience anything “nice” in the U.P. just rubs salt in ancient wounds."

"Visitors to the Upper Peninsula should keep in mind that getting people lost is one of the few pleasures we have in this frozen wasteland. Old Eddie Uren is a legend and grand poohbah at getting tourists lost in the vast forests. Last fall, at a coffee shop in Manistique, two mushroom seekers from Grand Rapids made the mistake of asking Eddie where they might find morels in the Hiawatha National Forest. I scribbled down on a napkin exactly what Eddie told them:

Head northwest on County Road 442. After two miles or there­ abouts, it will turn to gravel. Proceed on for several miles-l’d say about 6.2 miles-and look for a blighted elm tree in an old farm field; it’s easy to spot because a Holstein cow with three black spots on its right side will be grazing there.

Turn right on the next two-track road and go exactly 54 rods through the woods to Whiskey Creek. Park by a dead popple tree with a blue jay’s nest in the third crotch on the north side...

At this point the tourists’ eyes were glazing over and they made furtive movements of distress. Backing slowly away, they offered thanks and then fled toward the front door.

“There’s an old broken down outhouse on the edge of the field,” Old Eddie called out and then, sporting an angelic smile added, “You can miss it.”

"The women in the Upper Peninsula are desperate for attention, to say nothing about a little affection. The men up here believe it “spoils” a woman to give her a compliment or tell her that he loves her. When confronted about this, Yooper men counter with something like this: “Hey, I told my wife I loved her when we got married-why should I have to say it again unless I change my mind?”

Although Alfred Penver’s wife is an excellent cook, he never says anything appreciative about her culinary skills. When Eliza asks Al if he likes her pot roast or apple pie, he just grunts, “I’m eating it, ain’t I?”"

Please don’t come to the Upper Peninsula and try to alter the land or our way of life. Don’t set about to change this place into the place you have Just left (or fled).

It is what it Is and we like it that way.

Rather, approach our beloved north country with reverence and awe.

Tuck yourself in here and let the land change you.

We're on day five of being stranded at a roadside motel.
"Hey Mom, when we do Quick Cleanups, it only takes like 20 seconds to clean the whole hotel room! This is great! Maybe we should get a smaller house!"

Modern housing standards are ridiculous. 1200 sq ft used to be a big home for a small family of 4 or 5. Now, it's considered too small for two people

Daily Poor: Live in the pod.

Yah, das right, youbetcha, eh.

Based Daily Poor reader's plan to live the good life:

I am moving from an insanely high cost place to a very low cost place.

Fortunately I am a high earner, but I am tired of the rat race and I’m checking out.

I’m checking out of this economy, I’m checking out of my insanely busy schedule, I’m checking out of this materialism fuelled artificial shit hole.

We’re going back to a simple life and it will be more fulfilling than anything. I can’t wait to garden, have animals, build a guest house, and live off the land.

This is our 2-3 year plan.

Wife took a flight out of town Friday morning and back in this afternoon. Our small town airport took about 5 minutes to get her from walking in to ready to take off. She arrived an hour early, being used to Chicago airports. But it was totally unnecessary.

I wonder if this sort of thing is a pattern, or if I'm reading too much into a single trip going well.

As a Midwesterner and someone raised in the Chicago suburbs, it's normal to think of Gary, Indiana as the cheapest of the cheap in terms of real estate. I decided to use that as a starting point for some analysis, attempting to find livable and wholesome places with even cheaper homes.

I began with a list of all named places in the US that had census data on file for median home cost for the most recent available year, 2021. Then, I eliminated all places equal to or more expensive, in terms of average home cost, than Gary (any place with an average equal to or above $70,600). This brought the total number of places from 28,092 to exactly 3,700.

Next, I cut that number further by eliminating all places with less than 90% of their population being single race, Non-Hispanic White. That took it from 3,700 to 1,725 places.

It's noteworthy that almost half of the places with such affordable housing prices rank in the top third nationally for non-Hispanic White population percentage, eh? See more about that here and here.

Next, since we have so many places, let's hone in on towns that are likely to be self-sufficient for the average citizen. That is, let's exclude towns that are unlikely to have essentials like grocery stores.

While it's challenging to pinpoint this with absolute certainty, and it will often depend on factors like how close a small town is to a larger one, generally speaking, towns with a population of at least 500 are fairly likely to have at least one grocery store and gas station, as well as services like general contractors and mechanics. So, let's be safe and multiply that threshold by 1.5, setting our minimum population to at least 750 people, taking us down to 235 mostly White places that have extremely affordable real estate markets, with the median house being more affordable than in Gary.

(Noting here that 7, or about 3%, of those places are in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (U.P.) 😁. That's also 25% of the 28 places in the U.P. that meet the 750 minimum population threshold.)

Below are the ten most populous places that fit our criteria (with a U.P. city in the #10 slot). They are listed with, in parentheses, their population, Non-Hispanic White percentage, and median house cost. Pennsylvania is the big winner here, taking the top spot, 40% of the top 10 list, and 11% of the list overall. For the rest of the list, see the spreadsheet available here.

1. Oil City, Pennsylvania (9,685, 94.1%, $57k)
2. Crestwood Village, New Jersey (8,414, 93.2%, $70k)
3. Hornell, New York (8,284, 90.8%, $69k)
4. Bradford, Pennsylvania (7,913, 91.9%, $64k)
5. West Frankfort, Illinois (7,299, 96.4%, $69k)
6. Hartford City, Indiana (5,895, 95.1%, $62k)
7. Mount Carmel, Pennsylvania (5,740, 94.6%, $61k)
8. Titusville, Pennsylvania (5,214, 95.6%, $66k)
9. Uhrichsville, Ohio (5,175, 93.6%, $70k)
10. Ironwood, Michigan (5,147, 92.6%, $60k)

While more work certainly needs to be done to assess the livability of these places, as this analysis is not sufficient to demonstrate that they are good places to live, it is a decent place to start in looking for a wholesome and affordable place to live.

I may post analysis regarding some of these towns if the urge strikes me. Let me know if you'd be interested in a post about any of them in particular and it may sway me.

An addition made after publication:

List of states with at least one place on the list: Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Nebraska, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, West Virginia, Wisconsin

Sorry, most of the Western US.

A reader writes in, "Authors of The Daily Poor, you intolerable bastards, why not write about some of the best places in each state? That way it would include states that are grayed out in the map that people might still want to live in."

That's a terrible idea, and it would fit right in here with the atrocious quality of content found in this publication. We'll start tomorrow.

Or, you know, after doing the ten places already listed.

Richy? Not gonna fly here, mate.