Kinky Friedman lives in a little green trailer somewhere in the hills of Texas. He has five dogs, one armadillo, and one Smith-Corona typewriter. By the time you are reading this, Mr. Friedman may either be celebrating becoming the next governor of Texas or he may have retired in a petulant snit.
Aficionados of the Kinkster and his gang of Village Irregulars are in for another round of hilarious hijinks. On a plane from Texas to New York, the intrepid detective/humorist/musician agrees to keep an eye on the little pink suitcase of his seatmate, the exotic Khadija Kejela, when she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She never returns. After the plane lands in New York, Kinky gets a call from Khadija about the suitcase, which he's taken with him, but she doesn't show up to claim it. Curious about the contents, Kinky and his PI pal, Rambam, force open the suitcase and find a plastic bag full of fake passports for possible Middle Eastern terrorists. Realizing that both he and Rambam may be in danger, Kinky rounds up his old friends Ratso and McGovern to help figure out what's going on. Mayhem ensues. This is guy territory, albeit Greenwich Village '60s style. When necessary, Kinky takes cover with his bottle of Jameson's, a couple of Monte Cristos (preferably No. 2), his espresso machine and his long-suffering cat, whose litter box becomes the hiding place for the passports. Sometime girlfriend Stephanie DuPont adds to the chaos. As usual, the mystery at hand counts for less than the time spent in Kinky's company. The fun is in the ba-da-boom dialogue and the throwaway references. Occasional lyrical passages amidst the raunch surprise and please. The resolution may not convince entirely, but Friedman fans will be too busy laughing to notice. (Sept.) Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.
For the last 14 years, musician Friedman's mysteries (Musical Chairs, Road Kill) have featured the fictional Kinky Friedman, a profane, funny, and semidegenerate detective. While his stories may not be for everyone, no one else writes like Kinky. This latest mystery is served up with a fair helping of dirty jokes and double entendres, all sure to offend somebody and most taking the Kinkster himself as the target. The Village irregulars are back to help Kinky safeguard a piece of lost luggage, going up against international terrorists, the State Department, and Israeli agents in an effort to keep the pretty pink suitcase and its surprising contents from falling into the wrong hands. The mystery is not all that mysterious and is never satisfactorily solved, but Friedman's books are more about the philosophical discussions that go on while the case is being investigated, discussions involving love and loss, or cigars and sexual perversion. This time Kinky and his cat seem to have all the good lines, and readers with a sense of humor will enjoy The Mile High Club. Recommended for all public libraries. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 5/15/00.]DPatrick Wall, University City P.L., MO Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.
The Gazette (Montreal) Brash and hilarious....This is Kinky
at his best.
The Sun (Baltimore) If you yearn for assurance that our puritanical tendencies have not smothered unconventional viewpoints altogether, look no further.
The Washington Post Book World Nothing is sacred in a Kinky Friedman book. Therein lies his charm.