Thursday, September 24, 2015

The Passing of Kinky Friedman

So, as I alluded to in my last post, the passing of Kinky Friedman is an ongoing saga. Most recently, it took a literal turn.

Backstory: Before the Zolman's came to visit, the Barcalow's, of the Pam and Doug variety, came for a night. Now, we've known Pam and Doug since we bought our first house on Indiana Avenue in Fort Wayne back in 2002. Their son Matt, and daughter-in-law Shari, lived across the street from us, and they lived down the street. Their son, Micah, worked with Eric for a time. I could go on. Anyway, they were on their way back to Indiana after helping Matt and Shari move from South Carolina to Arizona (obviously, they no longer live across the street from us), and they stopped for the night at our place.

Another backstory: We had a great time hosting Pam and Doug. At some point, we mentioned Kinky, and they loved the idea of the whole thing! We told them that we had sent Kinky to Micah to present to Keith during his 10th anniversary celebration, but that Micah, from what we had been told, had basically just given Keith the doll in the kitchen. Booorrrrriiiinng, at least according to Pam and Doug. "Leave him to US next time," they said, "We can do this MUCH better."

Little did I know that they were, in fact, double agents.

After we sent Kinky packing back with the Zolman's, it didn't take terribly long until we got a box in the mail from the Barcalow's. In it, was a very nice note from Pam and Doug, a book they found and couldn't pass up sending us (Stepping on a Rainbow, by none other than Kinky Friedman), and this:


The lid reads "This room was donated by
Friends of WBCL." WBCL was the radio station
Pam use to work for, in case there was any
doubt where this came form.

Have you ever gotten a coffin in the mail? It is, as it turns out, both creepy and funny, especially when you're pretty sure, but not 100% sure, of what is inside. Also, there were 7 tiny screws in the coffin, which made it challenging to open. That conversation went something like this:

E: What's in there?
M: I think it's Kinky.
E: No!
M: Yep.
E: Open it!
M: I can't.
Both spend several minutes trying to pry lid off, to eventually conclude that the screws are in fact, functional, and not d├ęcor. We searched around for the appropriately tiny screwdriver...

Yep. Kinky was in there. Looking more or less the same, except for the arm that was now in a sling as a result of the unfortunate encounter he had with Chris, and ensconced in some pretty bright red velvet coffin-lining. Impressive construction and detail, but...

Argh! Kinky is BACK!

Not for long.

See, timing is everything. We got the package less than one week before Eric was due to fly to Fort Wayne for a conference.

So, we did the only thing that one can reasonably do in this type of situation. We packed him in Eric's checked luggage (oh, how I wish TSA had chosen his bag this time!), and sent him with all due honor, back to the Midwest for burial.

 
The resting place of Kinky Friedman.
I would say "the final resting place" but we
all know that's just not true.

 
Right on the Koteskey's front porch.

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