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What do you call someone who refers to any given objet as a "dingus," takes calls on a "blower," takes a "Nixon" rather than moving his bowels, and uses "ankles" as a verb? Try Kinky "Big Dick" Friedman, the fictional star of The Mile High Club, 1999's Spanking Watson, and 11 earlier amateur detective novels by the real-life musician-turned-novelist Kinky Friedman. As The Mile High Club opens, the Kinkster is holding forth with his gorgeous Middle Eastern seatmate, Khadija, on a flight from Dallas to New York City. As the plane begins its landing approach, Khadija rises to visit the loo, neither returning to her seat nor deplaning with the rest of the passengers. And Kinky's left holding her bag.
Unable to reach her and intrigued by several callers claiming that they, in fact, had Khadija's bag, Kinky and his real private-eye friend, Rambam, (Rambam, writer Mike McGovern and the Watson-like Ratso are the series's "Village Irregulars") jimmy open the bag to find, among other things, a vibrator.
"It has three gears apparently."
"Does it have four-wheel drive?"
"We have some slinky black lace panties, stockings, and lingerie."
"Many terrorists shop at Victoria's Secret."
"We have men's socks, undershirts, underwear."
"Boxers or briefs?"
"Extremely brief briefs. Khadija may be a little kinky. Pardon the expression."
"If that's all that's in there, what's the big fuss about? That's pretty much standard contents for most carryon luggage when the final destination is the Village."
"Yes, but they don't all include this," said Rambam, holding up a large plastic Baggie full of enough passports to make a customs agent put in for overtime.
And so it jauntily goes until its nifty surprise ending. Here, as in earlier cases, the plot is marginal and intentionally laughable. It's the straight man, really, enabling Kinky's well-done paeans to Sherlock Holmes, Dashiell Hammett, and Raymond Chandler, his three-page dissertations on outdoor urination, ruminations on Talmudic proscriptions against indoor nail-clipping, and, most appreciably, his obvious facility and fascination with the language. --Michael Hudson --This text refers to the Hardcover edition.
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 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to the Hardcover edition.
I wish I had known about him sooner. Kinky's cynicism is charming and I just can't believe some of the things he comes up with, it's truly unique. Read morePublished on May 25 2004 by Julie A. Furstenfeld
I got hooked on the series a few years ago with "A Case of Lone Star." I have read every one since and love them - Kinky, please keep writing. Read morePublished on March 10 2003 by Dom Miliano
To sum it up bluntly, this is the worst book I have ever read.
I made it about halfway through but it was so bad I threw it in the trash. Read more
I read Kinky Friedman mysteries not for plot but for the fresh, raunchy, philosophical whirlpools along the way. Read morePublished on Oct. 14 2002 by C. Morgan Hunt
The world is full of two kinds of people: people who "get" what Kinky is, and people who don't. Just read some of the reviews. Read morePublished on Sept. 12 2002 by Annie_Xmas
i found Kinky's work was boring. i waited for something to really happen. Blower was dumb,take a nixon was not funny and a few other goofy sayings trying to be funny but not... Read morePublished on April 28 2002 by anthony sanchez
Kinky Freedman always gives you a fast paced enjoyable read.
I prefered some of his earlier works 'Musical Chairs' and 'Frequent Flier' to this one. Read more
This is one of my favorite reads by the Kinkster and, as with so many others, it was just too short. Read morePublished on Oct. 4 2001 by Ellen C. Falkenberry
I highly recommend this book for anyone who wants to read a lot about cat poop.Published on June 12 2001