Artistes The actor Richard “Kinky” Friedman has d ied. He was 79 years old.
The news came through X on Thursday. “Kinky Friedman stepped on a rainbow at his beloved Echo Hill surrounded by family & friends,” said it. “Kinkster endured tremendous pain & unthinkable loss in recent years but he never lost his fighting spirit and quick wit.”
“Kinky will live on as his books are read and his songs are sung,” said the post. His name was John and he went to the University of Texas at Austin. The exact day he d ied was not given.However, Kinky also ran for governor of Texas as an independent candidate in 2006. With 12% of the vote, he came in fourth place out of six candidates. PROFILE IN MUSIC King Arthur & the Carrots was Kinky’s first band, which he started at UT. They only made one record in 1966, which was Schwinn 24/Beach Party Boo Boo. Surf music was made fun of by King Arthur & The Carrots. Ginky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys was Richard’s second band. They were formed in 1973. They didn’t stay together for long, and Kinky’s self-titled album came out in 1974.
Following two years, Kinky went on tour with Bob Dylan. He was a musical guest on Season 2 of Saturday Night Live after the tour. In 2011, the artist went on a world tour as the main act. KiNKY has put out 18 albums so far. His most recent one, Circus of Life, came out in 2018. NOTHING ELSE Later, when Richard’s music career stopped going forward in the 1980s, he started writing.
He mostly wrote detective books, which have made-up versions of himself and lyrics from his songs. In New York City, the character fights crime while telling jokes, giving advice, recipes, and charm. In his mind, he is like Sherlock Holmes from a different time. Kinky Friedman did not appear in Kill Two Birds and Get Stoned or The Christmas Pig, two books that Kinky wrote. Additionally, he had a regular column for Texas Monthly from 2001 to 2005.
He stopped writing the column when he ran for governor in 2006. But two years later, the newspaper brought back his column every two months. In 1986, Richard ran as a Republican for Justice of the Peace in Kerrville, Texas, but lost. This was before he ran for Governor.
I Came to Support My Friend After Her Split with a Con Man, Only to End Up in the Same Trap Myself — Story of the Day
When I arrived to support my friend after she split up with a con man, I never imagined I’d be caught in a web of deception myself. Her tears and the details of her betrayal filled me with sympathy, but little did I know this visit would change my life forever.
When I first saw Marcella’s message, the words “horrible betrayal” seemed to leap off the screen. I felt an ache of sympathy as I read on, piecing together the story of her heartbreak.
Marcella was my longtime friend—sharp, perceptive, and cautious. I couldn’t believe someone had managed to fool her so completely. But here it was, spelled out in her shaky writing.
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The man, she wrote, had been a master of deception. He’d seemed sincere, a picture of charm and care, only to shatter her trust and vanish with all her expensive gifts.
“Oh, Marcella,” I muttered to myself, packing my suitcase. I couldn’t let her go through that alone, so I was ready for a long trip to cheer her up.
***
When I arrived, Marcella looked like a ghost of herself. Her hair was messy, her eyes red and tired, as if she hadn’t slept for days.
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“I just… I can’t believe he did this to me,” she said. “How could I be so stupid?”
“You’re not stupid, Marcella,” I said, sitting beside her and wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “He tricked you. Anyone could have fallen for it.”
She shook her head. “He took everything, Rachel. I trusted him, and he stole from me. Gifts, even money… just gone. I never thought I’d fall for someone like that. I never thought…”
“What did the police say?”
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“They just brushed me off,” she sobbed, wiping her cheek. “It feels like the investigation’s already over.”
“Marcella, I’m so sorry.”
After a long pause, she finally let out a heavy sigh and leaned her head against my shoulder.
“I hate to ask, but… could you stay with me for a few days? I have this project due, and I can’t focus. I just… I don’t think I can get it done alone right now.”
“Of course, Marcella,” I replied without hesitation. “Whatever you need.”
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“Thank you, Rachel,” she murmured. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
As I agreed to help her, a small part of me wondered if there was more to this story. But I shook the thought away, ready to support my friend.
After all, what are friends for if not to help us when we fall?
***
The next morning, I threw myself into Marcella’s project, letting the work fill my mind. The familiar rhythm of focusing on her tasks reminded me of our university days. Back then, she was the one who always turned in her assignments early, her name at the top of the class list.
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And me? I was the one by her side, offering last-minute help, happily researching while she shone. Those memories gave me a strange comfort.
By evening, I finally looked up, feeling the weight of the day’s work pressing down on me. That’s when Marcella appeared in the doorway, watching me with a half-smile.
“You’ve been at it all day,” she said, crossing her arms. “You should get out and take a break.”
“Maybe I’ll just go to bed early,” I sighed, rubbing my temples.
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“No, I know what you need. Go to that little café on Pine Street. They have the best donuts in town. I remember you could never resist sweets.”
I laughed, feeling my mood lift. “Alright, you got me. I’ll go.”
“Take some money, please,” she added, giving me some cash. “Just take it, please.”
***
Minutes later, I found myself stepping into the cozy café she’d recommended. It smelled like coffee and warm dough. I ordered a coffee and a donut, taking a seat by the window to enjoy a quiet moment.
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But then, I noticed him—a tall man in the corner, looking like he’d been waiting for someone. His intense gaze met mine, and he held it a little longer than I expected.
He had a look of quiet strength with just a hint of mystery. I felt a strange flutter in my chest.
Before I knew it, he came over. He glanced at his watch and gave a small, resigned smile.
“Guess my friend isn’t coming after all. Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” I replied, feeling a surprising flutter as he pulled out the chair across from me. “I’m Rachel, by the way.”
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“Vincent,” he said, extending his hand.
“So, do you come here often, or was this… a first-time donut adventure?” I teased, hoping to break the ice.
He laughed. “I come here once in a while. But it’s funny, I’ve never noticed the donuts. They’re really that good?”
“Oh, they’re life-changing,” I replied, lifting my half-eaten donut as proof. “I was having a long day, and honestly, donuts fix almost everything.”
He smiled. “It’s funny—sitting here with you, it’s like I’ve known you for longer than… what’s it been? Five minutes?”
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I felt a warmth spread through me. “Yeah, I feel the same. It’s strange, isn’t it?”
The evening drifted by in a haze of laughter and shared stories, both of us forgetting everything else. Hours felt like minutes, and by the time I finally glanced at my watch, it was nearly closing time.
“Wow,” I said, surprised. “It’s so late. I didn’t even notice.”
“Time flies when you’re with the right company,” he said softly.
When I finally left that night, I couldn’t stop smiling.
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***
During the day, I would dive into Marcella’s project, dedicating hours to get it done. In the evenings, Vincent and I met and walked around, enjoying each other’s company as the city lights flickered on.
Finally, after several days of work, I finished the project. Vincent and I decided to celebrate it with a nice dinner at a cozy restaurant. I felt light, almost giddy, savoring every moment with him.
“So, to us,” Vincent said, raising his glass.
“To us,” I echoed, clinking my glass with his. “And maybe to even more evenings like this?”
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He laughed, nodding. “I’ll drink to that.”
But just as I took a sip, a familiar figure caught my eye. Marcella was striding toward us, her face dark with fury, her eyes fixed on Vincent.
“Marcella?” I managed, unsure of what could happen.
She ignored me as her gaze seared into Vincent.
“How could you?!” she spat, barely containing her anger.
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Then she turned to me, her expression shifting to one of betrayal. “And you, Rachel! You knew, didn’t you? You knew exactly who he was!”
I was stunned, unable to form a response. “Knew… what? Marcella, what are you talking about?”
She let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, don’t play innocent! He’s the con artist, Rachel. The man who took everything from me.
OMG! My Vincent… a con artist? The same man who deceived Marcella?
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I looked at him, searching his face for answers, but he seemed unfazed.
“Marcella, please, calm down,” he said. “You’re letting your anger cloud everything. I told you from the start—you’re creating a version of events that suits your story. You wanted someone to blame.”
She glared at him. “You’re lying. Both of you.”
“Marcella, I didn’t know. I swear,” I said. “I… I would never hurt you.”
But without another word, Marcella stormed out of the restaurant, leaving an icy silence in her wake.
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I turned to Vincent. “Is… is it true? Are you really the one who…”
“Rachel, listen to me,” he said, reaching across the table to take my hand. “Marcella is twisting the truth. Yes, we had a complicated past, but she’s trying to tear us apart.”
His words sounded sincere, but a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
“I don’t know what to believe,” I whispered, pulling my hand away. “Maybe… maybe I need to go talk to Marcella. Clear things up.”
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“If that’s what you need to do. But Rachel, don’t let her ruin this for us.”
With that, I left, the joy of our evening shattered.
***
When I returned to Marcella’s apartment, a feeling of dread settled in my stomach. As I stepped inside, Marcella and two officers were by the door.
“Rachel Parker?” one officer asked.
“Yes… that’s me,” I stammered.
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“We have a search warrant. Ms.Turner reported a theft of valuable jewelry, and we need to search your belongings.”
“Th-theft?” I repeated, my heart pounding.
“Please cooperate, ma’am,” the officer said, firm but polite.
In disbelief, I watched as they went through my suitcase. To my horror, one officer lifted a velvet pouch containing Marcella’s necklace and earrings.
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“That’s impossible,” I whispered. “That’s not mine.”
“Ms. Parker, do you have an explanation?” the other officer asked.
“I swear I didn’t take them.”
Just then, Vincent entered, his expression calm but focused. “Officers, I believe I can clarify. Marcella has been manipulating Rachel.”
Marcella’s eyes widened. “Vincent… what are you talking about?”
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“Marcella has severe financial issues. When I discovered how she was exploiting people, I left. That’s when she began blackmailing me,” he explained. “The night Rachel and I met, I was supposed to meet Marcella, but she set us up.”
I looked at Marcella in shock. “You encouraged me to go to that café. You wanted us to meet.”
Vincent nodded. “She even planted her jewelry in your suitcase to make it look like you stole from her.”
The officers exchanged glances. One spoke up, “Mr. Carter, do you have any proof?”
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Vincent played a recording of Marcella’s threats from his phone. Her voice rang out, cold and unmistakable.
The officer looked at me thoughtfully. “Ms. Parker, it seems there’s a misunderstanding. We’ll need Ms. Turner to come to the station for further questioning.”
Marcella paled, stammering, “You… can’t be serious! I’m the victim here!”
The officer raised a brow. “This recording raises enough questions. We’ll need clarification at the station.”
I took a deep breath. “Actually, officers, I don’t wish to press any charges.”
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Vincent nodded. “We’d rather resolve this quietly.”
The officers looked relieved. “Next time, be cautious about who you trust, Ms. Parker. And work out your issues without any more… soap opera scenes.”
They left, leaving an uncomfortable silence. Marcella looked down, finally murmuring, “Rachel… I’m sorry.”
I sighed. “I don’t know what to say, Marcella. This whole mess didn’t have to happen.”
Vincent placed a few bills on the table. “Marcella, this is for you. Maybe it’ll help you start over.”
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Marcella looked at the money, surprised. “Vincent, I… didn’t expect this.”
He said nothing, just gave me a nod. We stepped out of the apartment, leaving Marcella behind with a small amount of compassion.
As we walked into the cool night, Vincent took my hand, warm and steady.
I looked up at him. “So… what now?”
He smiled, his eyes hinting at mysteries yet to come. “Now, we find out what life looks like without secrets. Together.”
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I never thought one Thanksgiving would change everything. But as I pulled into my mother’s driveway, I knew it wasn’t just a holiday meal. My sister kept secrets I hadn’t planned on confronting. And one of them was about to shatter the life I’d built. Read the full story here.
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