Novelist, columnist, gubernatorial candidate, raconteur, cigar aficionado, and, of course, singer/songwriter Kinky Friedman left this earth on June 27, 2024 at the age of 79. According to the Texas Tribune, the cause was Parkinson’s disease.
After stints with the Peace Corps and in Nashville, Kinky (who, like his pal Willie Nelson, is on a first-name basis with the universe) became the quick-witted provocateur of seventies outlaw country, writing or covering songs (“Get Your Biscuits in the Oven and Your Buns in the Bed,” “Sold American,” “They Ain’t Making Jews Like Jesus Anymore,” the notorious “Okie From Muskogee” lampoon “Asshole From El Paso”) that raised the hackles of the satire-impaired and restricting his audience to connoisseurs with a certain sense of humor. He reached a bigger crowd in the eighties when he began writing bestselling novels, many of them starring himself as a hard-boiled private detective, as well as contributing a long-standing column to Texas Monthly. Kinky became a national icon when he ran for governor of Texas in 2006, earning 12% of the vote – not nearly enough to win, of course, but not too shabby, either. Following a second, equally unsuccessful campaign, he returned to writing books and songs, as well as founding the Utopia Animal Rescue Ranch in 1998.
Kinky also recorded an episode of Austin City Limits in 1975 for Season 1, but it famously never aired. There’ve been many reflections on why – in the press at the time, in one of Kinky’s memoirs, and in Clifford Endres’ 1987 history of ACL. Suffice to say that PBS executives of the time previewed the episode and decided it would be best for it to stay in the can, even when Austin PBS (then KLRN) offered to let it be a “soft feed,” i.e. a free program to be used at individual stations’ discretion. Fortunately, while it was never broadcast, the show was released in 2007 by New West Records.
Of course, any story like this only serves to make the life in question even larger, as Kinky himself acknowledged. “In any case, when the producers of ACL, in their infinite wisdom, decided not to air the show, the legend only grew,” he wrote in his TMT column. “Had they gone ahead and run it, I’d undoubtedly be playing a beer joint tonight on the backside of Buttocks, Texas. I’d never have had the chance to become a best-selling novelist, a friend of presidents, and a candidate for governor. The truth is I wouldn’t even be writing this column, which would be a real shame, since it’s the only job I’ve ever had in my life. So God bless Austin City Limits.”
We’ll miss you, Kinky. You kept Austin – and Texas – weird before the phrase was ever coined. Rest in peace.