July 4, 2024
Funnier Than Me
By Mikie Baker
The Bandera Prophet
Once I moved out of Big D to the tiny town of Medina in the Texas Hill Country, I learned a few things rather quickly. The internet was still dial up, my phone only had one bar and cowboys weren’t rich, after all. They were just a bunch of go-getters. They’d take her to work in the morning and go-getter in the afternoon.
I called Very Best Friend to discuss.
ME: Cowboys aren’t rich. Even ranchers aren’t rich. I haven’t met one man with a whole set of teeth and I’m lonely.
VBF: You need to get involved in your community!
ME: I guess I could paint the water tower like a giant apple because this is the Apple Capital of Texas.
VBF: Try something that won’t get you arrested.
ME: Well, I hear Kinky is running for Governor. I might still get arrested, but I could volunteer for the Kinkster.
And with that, my love affair with Kinky Friedman began.
With a couple of new-found friends, we started running the Kinky for Governor Campaign in Bandera County. Our job was to collect signatures on a statewide petition so that the Kinkster could be put on the ballot for governor. As Kinky always said, “How hard could it be?”
Actually, it wasn’t hard. The whole adventure was pure delight. Kinky could own the crowd within seconds even while a cigar stuck out of his mouth. He was smart, very clever and quite funny. But most importantly, he was the kindest man and truly believed he could help our state.
Though Kinky did not win the race, he did come in second in Bandera County, so I know we made a difference and I finally got to meet lots of men with full sets of teeth.
Once the race was over, Kinky headed back to his Medina ranch and began writing more books on his infamous beige 1968 IBM Selectric Typewriter. And Dearly Demented Mom moved in with me.
To prevent myself from going insane, I built a large vegetable garden and began to write a weekly column about my adventures with Dearly Demented Mom and the Teenage Eating Machine. I wanted a clever masthead for my column, so I had Creative Genius come up with the cowboy hat and pencil. That was great, but somehow, I needed a blessing from Kinky. I was hoping he would tell me I was funny.
Anyway, I headed out to the ranch to spend the morning with Kinky. First, I met lots of dogs and then Kinky gave me a tour of his parent’s 1940s one bedroom ranch house with the pool table right in the middle of the living room. It was a bachelor’s pad if I’d ever seen one.
I gathered up the courage to ask the Kinkster if I could use this line on my masthead:
“She’s almost as funny as me and a lot better looking.” - Kinky Friedman
After much laughter, he agreed and then proceeded to give me every book he’d written plus an extra-large print version of one for Dearly Demented Mom. Quite the gentleman.
And now this man is gone. You know I think all humans have two things in common – the love of music and the love of laughter. Kinky excelled at both through his music, his books, his columns and just being himself by caring for animals and people alike, though I suspect he preferred the company of dogs.
So, let’s all raise one to the Kinkster and say, “Thank you, Kinky.” You made this world a funnier place. RIP
I called Very Best Friend to discuss.
ME: Cowboys aren’t rich. Even ranchers aren’t rich. I haven’t met one man with a whole set of teeth and I’m lonely.
VBF: You need to get involved in your community!
ME: I guess I could paint the water tower like a giant apple because this is the Apple Capital of Texas.
VBF: Try something that won’t get you arrested.
ME: Well, I hear Kinky is running for Governor. I might still get arrested, but I could volunteer for the Kinkster.
And with that, my love affair with Kinky Friedman began.
With a couple of new-found friends, we started running the Kinky for Governor Campaign in Bandera County. Our job was to collect signatures on a statewide petition so that the Kinkster could be put on the ballot for governor. As Kinky always said, “How hard could it be?”
Actually, it wasn’t hard. The whole adventure was pure delight. Kinky could own the crowd within seconds even while a cigar stuck out of his mouth. He was smart, very clever and quite funny. But most importantly, he was the kindest man and truly believed he could help our state.
Though Kinky did not win the race, he did come in second in Bandera County, so I know we made a difference and I finally got to meet lots of men with full sets of teeth.
Once the race was over, Kinky headed back to his Medina ranch and began writing more books on his infamous beige 1968 IBM Selectric Typewriter. And Dearly Demented Mom moved in with me.
To prevent myself from going insane, I built a large vegetable garden and began to write a weekly column about my adventures with Dearly Demented Mom and the Teenage Eating Machine. I wanted a clever masthead for my column, so I had Creative Genius come up with the cowboy hat and pencil. That was great, but somehow, I needed a blessing from Kinky. I was hoping he would tell me I was funny.
Anyway, I headed out to the ranch to spend the morning with Kinky. First, I met lots of dogs and then Kinky gave me a tour of his parent’s 1940s one bedroom ranch house with the pool table right in the middle of the living room. It was a bachelor’s pad if I’d ever seen one.
I gathered up the courage to ask the Kinkster if I could use this line on my masthead:
“She’s almost as funny as me and a lot better looking.” - Kinky Friedman
After much laughter, he agreed and then proceeded to give me every book he’d written plus an extra-large print version of one for Dearly Demented Mom. Quite the gentleman.
And now this man is gone. You know I think all humans have two things in common – the love of music and the love of laughter. Kinky excelled at both through his music, his books, his columns and just being himself by caring for animals and people alike, though I suspect he preferred the company of dogs.
So, let’s all raise one to the Kinkster and say, “Thank you, Kinky.” You made this world a funnier place. RIP