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Review by Bruce Tierney
To misquote Jackson Browne and Glenn Frey, "Standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona . . . it's an Indian, Lord, and he's flat as a board . . ." having just been rendered so by Willie Nelson's tour bus. Days later, strange and unsettling events begin to occur to the Zen cowboy and his entourage: Willie's stunt double is shot, a powerful Native American medicine bag turns up and Willie does his best Judge Crater imitation, disappearing off the face of the earth.
Meanwhile, back in Manhattan, singer-turned-gumshoe Kinky Friedman is having a transcendent experience with his bathroom mirror. It seems a gypsy inhabits the other side of the mirror, and Kinky is about to be directed on a journey of self-discovery: "Like any other post-Nixon morning, I got back inside my purple bathrobe and walked over to the sink. . . . There, staring back at me, was a countenance very similar to my own, except that it seemed to be slightly more real and substantial than I felt at the moment . . . His hair was not a Hebrew natural like my own; he wore it long and dark and shiny and all wrapped up in a bright red sash . . . A silver earring hung from his left ear . . . and it fairly gleamed with all the stolen mischief of dreams." The gypsy, whose name turns out to be Antonia, goes on to suggest that Kinky experience a change of scenery, and then he proffers his card. It is the King of Hearts.
If it seems inevitable that the seemingly divergent paths of Willie and Kinky will meet, well, you're right. Several of Willie's entourage have become convinced that: a) someone is trying to kill the Red-headed Stranger (that would be Willie, in case you are country-music-challenged); b) it has something to do with the death of the Indian in Arizona; and c) only an ace sleuth like Kinky can save Willie, solve the case and ensure that the miscreants are placed behind bars.
This time out, Kinky Friedman (the author) combines the Indian lore of, say, a Tony Hillerman, the wisecracking good humor of a Richard Prather or a Robert Sheckley, and an insider's view of the music biz which can only come from firsthand experience of years on the road (with his iconoclastic country band, Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys). With books such as "Elvis, Jesus & Coca-Cola," "The Love Song of J. Edgar Hoover" and "Armadillos and Old Lace," Friedman has gathered a following who eagerly awaits each new work. In the words of the Red-headed Stranger (see above): "Kinky is the best whodunit writer to come along since Dashiell What's-his-name."
©1997, ProMotion, inc.