Rudy Perpich came from an ethnic Iron Range family, was the product of hardscrabble times and public schools, and rose to the office of governor of Minnesota almost by accident. Mark Dayton comes from a privileged Anglo-Presbyterian background, had a proper Ivy League education and became governor-elect the old-fashioned way: He had a family fortune to help him get there.

On the surface, they haven't much in common other than the fact that -- separated by 24 years -- they are the most recent candidates of the Democratic persuasion Minnesota has elected as governor. Yet, if we are lucky, these two will be mentioned in the same breath for more than the fact that Dayton is the first DFL governor since Rudy.

They will be mentioned in tandem because Dayton demonstrates the same kind of independence, inventiveness and passion that Perpich displayed during 10 years as governor -- the longest time anyone has spent as the state's chief executive and a record that is likely to stand for a long time, perhaps forever.

The press, including yours truly, treated Rudy harshly. Some of his ideas were easy to mock: An Austrian castle for the University? A chopsticks factory on the Iron Range? We called him "Governor Goofy," a term of uncertain provenance that seemed to capture his unpredictable manner but hurt him deeply. Looking back, it's hard not to think he was mocked mostly for his iron ore pit accent and his unpolished style. It's difficult to think of Mark Dayton celebrating his inauguration with a Polka Mass (Rudy remains our only Catholic governor), as Rudy did in 1976 when he ascended from lieutenant governor to the big chair upon the resignation of Wendell Anderson, who arranged to have the new governor appoint him to the U.S. Senate.

That disastrous arrogance led to the "massacre" of the 1978 election cycle, when Republicans won everything. But Rudy had a common touch and people couldn't help but like him. He would take your hand with a grip too firm for the dentist he had been, stare at you through his big glasses, and move you into a corner where he told you what was on his mind and made you think you'd be an idiot to disagree.

He came up with cascades of ideas that helped transform the state from the sleepy 1960s and '70s into a modern one: The Mall of America, arts schools, a domed stadium, healing centers for torture victims, deep support for education, the environment and energy conservation. And, in a mantra that DFLers seemed to forget until Mark Dayton dusted it off this year, his priorities were "jobs, jobs, jobs."

After the massacre of '78, Rudy worked in Europe, biding his time. He stormed home, like MacArthur to the Philippines, in 1982 and knocked off the DFL's endorsed candidate in the primary (as Dayton did to the party's candidate this year, Margaret Anderson Kelliher) and went on to win two terms on his own merits, molding Minnesota in his own image more than any other governor of the modern era. If Mark Dayton, who has known a few setbacks, can model his administration after his old friend and mentor, the state will be well served.

Rudy ran for an unprecedented third four-year term in 1990, tempting the fates and losing in the end to Republican Arne Carlson, who had been eliminated in the GOP primary but somehow came back from the politically dead to prevail in November. There was a swimming pool party, hotel rooms, Supreme Court decisions -- oh, well. The weirdness of that election cycle is still hard to explain to neophytes who have never heard of it, and I will leave it aside (you could look it up). In the end, Rudy, still brimming with ideas and energy, took the loss hard, fuming about betrayals by his friends, and went away without participating in any of the niceties on view Thursday when Tim Pawlenty welcomed Dayton to the governor's office.

Rudy died five years later, in 1995, still mad. His rehabilitation began soon after, with the 1998 election of Jesse Ventura as governor. Jesse's foibles and personality quirks made Rudy look normal by contrast. After Jesse's act -- which followed eight years of Carlson's high-and-mighty act, and preceded Tim Pawlenty's pandering to national right-wing forces -- it is instructive to look back at Perpich and see the kind of governor Minnesotans wanted back then, and which I think they are hoping for now:

A governor who is unbought and unbeholden, has the courage of his convictions, the confidence to pursue new ideas and the determination to fight off bad ones; a man who stands -- even if he is from a wealthy family and the Ivy League -- for the average person of Minnesota. And who might even enjoy a Polka Mass or two.

Nick Coleman is at nickcolemanmn@gmail.com.