Kinky Friedman and WOW

A red chard from a once pair of panties flittered on an ash branch near the steps to the Espino Center at the Sul Ross campus on Saturday. At the fountain, skaters hung loose amongst themselves pierced and tattooed, if only Henna and high above in the clouds a dog formed: the giant head puffy and white, stretching slowly, waxing toward – big eyebrows. Then the cigar – the dog smoked a No.2 Monte Cristo.

In the mezzanine the crowd gathered. Books. Voices overheard: “Not war stories, veterinarian stories.” “It’s mostly non-fiction,” “Running hand grenades in boxes of peaches…”

“Is Alpine getting weird?

No, but Kinky Friedman was in town.

It’s about literacy.

“It’s about illiteracy,” The Kinkster corrected.

Way out West Texas Book Fair – WOW, promoted by Alpine’s Rotary Club, brought in the literary stars to raise funds for construction of Alpine’s new library.

“This is going to be the queen of libraries in Brewster,” Kathy Bork, president of the Alpine Public Library, said. “We want it to be Alpine’s living room.”

It’ll triple the size of the present library. And if funds keep flowing, construction of the one story 9000 sqft facility will start in early ’09.

Meantime back at WOW, the funds are flowing: the silent auction is kicking, drinks are pouring and soon the Kinkster will be telling Jesus Christ jokes to a mixed crowd of them that laugh and them that can’t.

Friedman was big on education during his 2006 run for Texas governor. He supported raising teacher’s pay to attract the best talents, in an effort to pull Texas out of the No.1 drop-out rate in the country.

Friedman, who will decide after the 2008 election whether he will run for governor in 2010, is touring the state raising awareness for better education, political corruption, alternative fuels and a number of other projects including his Utopia Animal Rescue Farm (over a thousand dogs saved) and the delectability of his new line of cigars: Kinky Friedman Cigars (KFC).

Earlier Saturday, in a soft carpeted lecture room, Drew Stuart moderated a discussion with one of the many literary stars: Joe Nick Patowski, author of the most recent biography of Willie Nelson.

According to Joe Nick, the “bread and butter of the book” came from interviews of the “low art people,” past denisons of the Ft Worth bar scene where Willie hung out in the 195o’s and 60’s.

“Willie was raised in the church, but found salvation in the honky-tonks,” Joe Nick said.

The author suggested that Willie’s road to success was helped along by a not-too-obvious ambitious streak coupled with Texas-sized salesmanship. He sold Kirby vacuum cleaners in his early days and encyclopedias door to door. When Joe Nick went to visit the millionaire guitar-player at his ranch recently, Willie was promoting a device that converts dirty water to clean potable water.

“He was ready to go door to door in the third world and sell them,” Joe Nick said.

Another Willie connection at WOW came about through Mike Blakely, a singer, songwriter, novelist, and the event’s Friday night entertainment at Kokernot. He co-authored a novel with Willie Nelson, A Tale Out of Luck, that’s just been published. The screen play is already underway, likely starring Willie as the guitar- picking police protagonist in post Civil War Texas.

“We wrote the novel in four months. It took longer than that to draw up the contract,” Blakely said.

Marathon photographer James Evans presented his photographs of the Big Bend during another WOW session on Saturday. Evans concluded with a passionate appeal to the audience to be wary of “encroachment,” to “keep Big Bend small,” and to “think in bigger terms than money.” He fights against La Entrada, the Border Wall, and the re-opening of the La Linda Bridge at the Rio Grande.

“We’re a small group with no political clout,” he said, speaking about the relatively obscure political representation this part of Texas has in Austin.

Political activist Bobby Byrd and his wife Lee Merrill Byrd, of Cinco Puntos Press in El Paso, presented their story as small publishers who specialize in border literature, including children’s books.

“In a way we’re like movie producers: we put up all the money, do all the intellectual work and sub everything out,” Byrd said. “Publishing is like writing, it’s an act of self-discovery. You’re always finding something new about yourself as you go through the process of putting a book together.”

One of their most recent books, “Ringside View of a Revolution,” is an account of Poncho Via’s revolutionary days in Mexico.

Meantime, the Kinkster held court outside under the shade of the student union building. He lit a KFC.

“Buggers are good,” Kinky said.

He described the manufacturing process of his cigars in terms unrepeatable in this media. Jewford, his partner and side-kick, and instrumental in the process leaned up against a white pillar and said, “But never on Saturday.”

The discussion quickly turned to politics.

“Had 45 percent of the voters voted it would have been a victory, and more voters would have meant a landslide,” The Kinkster said referring to the last Texas governor’s race, where only 28 percent of voters turned out. Kinky placed a solid third.

He especially was concerned about the young vote and Obama’s chances. “If we could allow people to register on the day of voting – there’d be a bigger turn out and a better chance.”

He suggested this year’s presidential race was a hare and tortoise situation and that the tortoise McCain was going to win.

“But even if that does happen, it’ll be better than what we got – ten times better,” he said.

“We’ve got to get the Rednecks back in the Democratic Party and I’m the one to do it,” He blew out a little smoke. “And bring’em all together with the Ron Paulers and the Obamas.”

At the banquet dinner, plates licked clean or half-empty among a dining group of perhaps 150, the Kinkster reminded the crowd of his “slogan heavy” 2006 campaign: the Molly Ivins quip “Why the Hell Not?” and the Willie Nelson take, “You can criticize him all you want, but quit circumcising him.”

And had Kinky been the first Jewish governor of Texas, “I would’ve reduced the speed limit from 55 to 54.95,” he said.

As the evening grew late and the crowd dwindled, some huddled near the windows and looked out beyond the Ash trees, toward the glittering night sky. The book booths were gone and the literary stars were on their way. A mid-August Saturday came to an end - the boosters of the Alpine Library closer to their goal: a place to read, a place to meet , the battle against illiteracy a little more real.