Customer Reviews

Roadkill

5 star:		(11)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

Read the Kirkus Review for the story summary, so I'll cut to the chase here. Kinky tells a lot of road stories about Willie Nelson, Tom T. Hall ("loved all his songs and both his melodies") and offers a ribald quote from Kris Kristofferson about Farrah Fawcett-Majors that will make you spit milk through your nose. These stories make "Roadkill" a far more entertaining book than "The Love Song of J. Edgar Hoover" in which he seemed to spend far too much time talking about himself. Kinky is capable of spinning a mystery plot -- "A Case of Lone Star" is still his best -- but "Roadkill" shows Kinky can be ribaldly funny, still capable of making the inner 13-year-old boy on some of us laugh out loud

Talk about being in a funk (and not being George Clinton). Kinky
Friedman's career as the New York City Sherlock Holmes is going no where;
his love life has no pulse; and when he looks into a mirror, he sees a
street corner philosopher mouthing trivia B.S. staring back at him. Kinky
realizes that it is time to put the show on the road to regain his mental
health. When his old friend Willie Nelson invites him to go on tour with
the band, the Kinkster feels that his life has turned around. However, from
almost the minute Kinky enters the surreal world of Willie, it is obvious
that something troubles the country legend. Everyone on tour expects Kinky
to find out what has upset Willie's karma and fix it.

After a little careful sleuthing and a talk with Willie to confirm his
findings, Kinky realizes that the man believes that he has been cursed by
an Indian shaman and is waiting to die. The Kinkster is determined to pull
his friend out his funk, but before he can begin, a band member takes a
bullet intended for Willie. Indian curse or something more mundane like a
person with a grudge, the private detective plans to ferret out the truth.

In a world slowly being bored to death, thank goodness Kinky Friedman
periodically writes an entertaining novel that brightens up the mood of the
readers. The Kinkster's irreverent humor, political mumbo jumbo, and
off-colored jokes are a joy to behold. Though some mystery fans might find
ROAD KILL a shade offensive, Kinky delights in being taken stone cold
serious as a comedic writer writing a droll mystery.

Harriet Klausner

Kinky Friedman, the self-proclaimed Last of the Landless Texas Jewish Singing Cowboys, is in a deep-purple funk in his loft in Noo Yawk City, despite heroic efforts of his friends and his cat. Willie Nelson is scraping the emotional bottom, too, thinking his tour bus has killed a native American medicine man and someone's trying to kill him. Put these two chess-playing cowboys together and you have the funniest, yet gripping, mystery novel of the year.
Willie invites Kinky to travel with him to try to find the killer, who Kinky suspects is one of Willie's 83 ex-wives. Kinky finds a new bunch of buddies, Ben, Booger, Gator, and two cigar-smoking, wise-cracking native Americans, who, along with his Village Irregulars, to help hi sift the facts from the road grit.

Kinky's inimitable use of a good plot as a springboard to literary, social, political, and philosophical musings continues to illustrate his broad grasp of literature and history. His anecdotes about celebrities in the entertainment business provide an extra spark.

So, here's Kinky at his best, on a cosmic romp across the country with the legendary Red Headed Stranger. Don't miss this one!

This book elevates Kinky from the cult status he has enjoyed. Lookout for the best seller lists!

I have loved just about every Kinky Friedman book I've ever read. For me, Friedman has a unique voice and an off-the-wall sense of humor. Before I opened the cover of Road Kill, I wondered if Kinky would persist in describing things as phlegm-colored. True to form, he used the adjectives "mucouslike" and "phlegmish" ---both on the second page. His use of "Nixon" as a verb for a bodily function is a bit disturbing even for one who had no love for the former president. Then there is Kinky's tenacious use of "stepped on a rainbow" and "gone to Jesus", meaning someone died. It's rather ironic for the former leader of the country music group known as the Texas Jewboys to refer to Jesus so often. But then sometimes I think Kinky is simply incorrigible. I usually find his peculiar use of terminology picturesque, but Road Kill convinced me that Kinky never grew out of that prepubescent bathroom-humor stage.

In Road Kill, Kinky still gives the reader moments of outrageous dialogue that compels one to read out loud to whomever happens to be near. But while I whipped through previous Kinky novels with delight, I kept asking myself why I persevered in reading Road Kill when I wasn't enjoying it.

The story begins when Kinky (who is the book's protagonist as well as the author) is doing what he does best ---smoking a cigar, sipping Jameson, and talking to his cat. He is invited to join Willie Nelson and his entourage on the road. Somewhere between Texas and Buffalo, Kinky observes that Willie doesn't seem to be `himself'. Willie's elderly valet is injured in a shooting and later, one of Willie's crew members is killed. Kinky decides either someone on the tour is out to kill Willie or else an ancient Indian curse has been settled on his old friend.

The reader is about four-fifths of the way through the book before the real culprit (who is cleverly named after an old mystery writer) is even introduced and thereafter, that plot-line ends within twenty pages. The rest of the book seems like so much filler. Road Kill doesn't hold together as a story but seems rather more like a contrived way of getting Kinky's friends into the plot along with Kinky's favorite quotations, anecdotes, and sophomoric remarks. He even digresses into a passage about the size of O.J. Simpson's member. Although it was a mildly amusing aside, the anecdote did nothing to enhance the plot ---merely distracted from it. And although that is the worst example, it is only one of many. There is some inventive banter, but I found myself thinking most of it had been used in previous Kinky capers.

I kept asking myself, even though this is a work of fiction and even though Willie Nelson is one of Kinky's real-life friends, isn't he going to be miffed at the descriptions of him smoking joints the size of a surf board? Aren't the drug-enforcement officials following Willie's tour bus right now to see if they can catch him with a stash? If I were Willie Nelson, I might be on the horn calling my lawyers.

Author Kinky Friedman may have become exactly what his sleuth Kinky Friedman is ---a public nuisance. For me, Road Kill was a profound disappointment, but I guess someone with a bunch of best sellers under his cowboy hat can turn out one piece of Nixon and get away with it.

Roadkill is a must read for any Kinky Friedman fan or anyWillie Nelson Fan. The fact that Kinky Friedman used to play music with Willie Nelson and they are longtime compatriots makes the reader feel like he is on tour with Willie as Kinky puffs away at his cigar trying to figure out "who dun it" Most of the characters are real and it would take an insider like Kinky to graspthe surealistic adventuristic spirit that can only occur on Willie's Bus. The reader gets the feeling that this story is not ficticious at all. It left this reader ringing both red phones of the hook as I went in search of my Gypsy spirit (which I found drinkin' down at the local saloon listening to Hank Sr.)

Okay, so maybe I'm gushing, but I don't know where to start. I have to confess a bias, as I'm hopelessly addicted to Kinky Friedman, but this has to be one of his best. Cleverly disguised as a quick and easy mystery, this book will suck you in from page one. Roadkill has so much great wit in it, that I found myself reading passages out loud to my friends and husband. I haven't found so many lines in a Kinky book since his old stuff and I'm glad he's back in full form. Also, he has a way of dispensing a bit of philosophy and wisdom to the reader without preaching, condescending, or being pretentious. My only gripe is that I wanted more Ratso. I could go on, but just read the book.

In this latest foray into the world of amateur detection, erstwhile country singer (and later Texas politician), Kinky Friedman takes an oddly new twisting road. Again the author plays the starring role in a mystery.

Waking up to find himself halfway to crazy-ville, Kinky has a discussion with a gypsy in the bathroom mirror that leads his friends to send him on a sabbatical trip with long-time friend Willie Nelson on the Honeysuckle Rose (Willie's tour bus). The trip, while restoring some of Friedman's sanity (if indeed there is any) drops a new case in our sleuth's lap--one involving Indians (of the Native American variety), roadies, curses, and pot-shots.

In the end, Friedman and friends find themselves investigating age-old Indian legends and Willie's ex-wives.

Kinky is his usual irreverent self in reporting this tale of music-world travel and murder. If you're a fan, you'll still be one. Three out of five reading glasses.

--Benjamin Potter, February 27, 2011

This writer, by far, is one of the funniest that I have read in a very long time. Mr. Friedman has a very sharp wit, a caustic sense of humor and loves a good play on words."Road Kill" was a fantastic, fast-paced, lighthearted mystery with plenty of humor thrown in for good measure.

The story takes place in New York, as well as Texas and, later, in Hawaii. Mr. Friedman, writing about himself as a P.I., looks at himself in the mirror one day, seeing a Gypsy staring back at him. The gypsy strongly suggests that he go on a trip with a friend to get out of New York City. That is just what he does. Oddly enough, he gets a call from his old pal, Willie Nelson, who asks him to come on the road with him for a while.Kinky leaves his cat with the two lesbian dancers upstairs. And away he goes...

once on the road, in Willie's bus, the story unfolds and the plot thickens; only then do we find out why kinky is there, obviously to help solve a real mystery , perhaps, save Willie's life.

I won't ruin the story for you, but I will say, that if you pick up this book and read it, you will not be disappointed. If you need a good laugh, read it today. Mr. Friedman writes in a style similar to Paul Levine, another fantastically funny, lighthearted, fast-paced mystery writer. Perhaps, one day, Mr. Friedman and Mr. Levine will consider a collaboration. So pick up this book, settle back, and get ready for a good laugh. Treat yourself today...

Lovely... a book in brand-new shape. Reading it now. Kinky hangs with Willie Nelson - 2 real characters in an unreal situation

"Roadkill" is Kinky Friedman's tenth novel and and was first published in 1997. As with his other books, Kinky has cast himself as the amateur-PI hero - though he doesn't take too many liberties. The book's Kinky (unsurprisingly) is a cigar-smoking, cat-loving, espresso-guzzling, whiskey-drinking, ex-country and western performer. As usual, Kinky isn't the only `real' person to appear in the book : Rambam, Ratso and McGovern - Kinky's `Village Irregulars' - have all been based on actual friends. While the Village Irregulars turn up in most of Kinky's books, "Roadkill" provides one very notable, non-recurring guest star : Willie Nelson.

As the book opens, it's clear that Kinky is just not going to have a good day. The fact that his career as a PI has taken a slight downturn, not to mention the continuing absence of Stephanie Dupont (she's on silent running in Florida), is causing the Kinster a certain amount of misery. However, it's the conversation he has with Antonio the Indian that adds a healthy dose of panic to his misery. Antonio, who is looking out of the mirror that Kinky is looking into, suggests that now is perhaps the right time for taking a little trip. (Given that Kinky's talking to a figment of his imagination, this isn't necessarily bad advice...even if it's the figment of his imagination who's providing the advice). Not long afterwards, Kinky receives a phone call from his old friend Willie Nelson. Spookily, Willie is phoning from his tour bus and wants the Kinkster to join him on his travels. Naturally, Kinky packs his bags and hits the road...though it soon becomes clear that Willie's life is in danger and he might just need the services of a skilled PI.

"Roadkill" is a very enjoyable, easily read book. Like everything else I've read by Kinky, it's not an entirely serious `whodunnit' and it includes plenty of the trademark one-liners. However, he does occasionally wander off-topic and it's maybe a little more introspective in places than usual. Nevertheless, the book is anything other than a disappointment - if you've enjoyed any of Kinky's other books, you should also enjoy this one.