Friday, 6 August 2010

Kinky Books


Today's confessional is more of a buy one get one free, really. Sorting out a few books last night, I was thumbing through my Kinky Friedman (novelist, Bob Dylan sidekick, Texas Jewboy, politician, maverick) section when I came across a couple of of the Kinkster's tomes in my modest collection. My copy of Prisoner of Vandam Street was, quite plainly, stolen from Palm Beach Library. It was taken out (for the first and last time) in February 2004 and never returned. The Amazon marketplace seller from Florida (I'd best not mention his name here) then shipped it 5,000 miles across the pond. And my copy of Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch is signed by the man himself - we went to see him at The Maze in Nottingham (one of his rare UK appearances) playing a few live favourites, with some selected readings thrown in for good measure. Afterwards, while chewing on his trademark cigar (pre-smoking ban), he signed my humble paperback:

'For John, see you in Hell. Kinky Friedman 2003'

As you can probably understand, it's something that I, a, treasure and b, hope never comes to pass.

Whilst putting the books away I then thought that, if I'd approached Kinky now, it would be almost expected of me to produce a camera and capture the moment digitally and forever. Luckily this was nearly ten years ago and gigs were generally camera free zones. But that's not to say I haven't got a few snaps of me rubbing shoulders with the (sometimes) great and (mostly) good. I'm not starstruck by any means (it's not always cool to take the Instamatic out after interviewing somebody or even just meeting them for a chat after a gig), but every now and then I've not been able to help myself: those moments when I've thrust the camera at Mrs M and asked her to point and shoot invariably make a good night, quite literally, unforgettable. Just ask Rodney Bewes or Wreckless Eric!

Kinky Friedman: Ride 'Em Jewboy

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