Kinky Friedman, Proudly Eccentric Texas Singer-Songwriter, Dead at 79

I got really into his books and music for a while. One day in the summer of 2004 I was on the hunt. Earlier in the day I had scored 2 boxes of Cuban Montecristo No.2 from a dude who sold that kind of shit.

I set off with a shirt pocket stuff full of Cuban cigars and started looking for a paperback copy of Curse of the Missing Doll Head. At the time I lived in a little town in North Texas and was striking out everywhere, but that day I was in San Antonio for the cigars. I hit all the Half Priced books and only found the book in hardback. I was giving up and headed back to where I was staying when I saw a little used bookstore in a shopping center. It was tucked back in the corner and I had never seen it before.

I went in and headed to the mystery section and there it was, one copy in paperback. I grabbed it and went to the cookbooks and quickly became oblivious to my surroundings. After spending about 2 hours going through the cookbooks and old magazines, they had an amazing amount of old Good Housekeeping, I went to pay for my couple of books and realized the place was packed.

I was halfway to the counter when this dude in a cowboy hat and a black and white western-patterned leather sports coat walked in everyone was clapping. I was like "Must be Burt Reynolds or something" and went to pay. The lady checked me out and asked me if I wanted to buy Kinky Friedman's new book for the signing. The light bulb is on. Burt Reynolds was something alright, it was Kinky Friedman.

I bought his new book The Prisoner of Vandam Street and got in line. It took about 30 minutes to get to him and I was one of the last 10 or so people. He took my book, asked my name, signed it with some witty remark, and looked up at me to hand it back and shake my hand when he saw the pointed end of the two Montecristos I had left sticking out of my shirt pocket. He asked me what I had. I told him "Cuban Montecristo No.2, just opened the box today" and I handed him one. He stood up and shook my hand and told me to hang on a minute.

He finished signing the rest of the line and then sat outside with me and we smoked those last two cigars. He signed a couple more books for me and we talked about Austin and my small North Texas town and the music there, and then he had to split. He said next time the cigar was on him or something clever like that and split.

I wish I could remember it better but I am glad it is fuzzy, it makes it sort of like a mystery or some stupid shit like that. I gave away 2 of the 3 Vandam Street books to friends who were fans and a few years later I lost the other two books in a flood in Houston.

Edit: formatting