I remain deeply troubled by Kinky's support of school prayer and his stance on immigration. I am also troubled by his generally simple-minded approach to virtually every issue that he would encounter as governor. I am also not registered to vote in Texas. But if I were, given the choices, yeah. I'd vote for Kinky.
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/front/4036599.html July 10, 2006, 11:40AM Yes to 'Kinky', no to 'Grandma' on Nov. ballot By CLAY ROBISON Copyright 2006 Houston Chronicle AUSTIN — Comptroller Carole Keeton Strayhorn won't be allowed to use "Grandma" on the November ballot because it is more of a political slogan than a nickname, Secretary of State Roger Williams ruled today. Fellow independent gubernatorial candidate Kinky Friedman, meanwhile, will be listed as Richard "Kinky" Friedman, Williams said. Strayhorn wanted to use "Grandma" as a ballot nickname because campaign surveys indicated that many voters still weren't familiar with her new last name. She had won statewide election under her previous last name, Rylander, but remarried after the 2002 election. In political statements and advertising, she has frequently called herself, "One Tough Grandma," but Williams said state law prohibits the use of political slogans on the ballot. "Your letter does not articulate any facts that would counter my interpretation that the use of 'Grandma,' in the context of Carole Keeton Strayhorn's name appearing on a ballot, is a slogan and as such is prohibited by the Texas Election Code," he said in a letter to Strayhorn's attorney, Roy Minton. Minton, in a letter to Williams last month, had said Strayhorn was widely known as "Grandma." The secretary of state said Strayhorn never has appeared on the ballot as "Grandma" and doesn't use the name on her official letterhead. Williams said state law requires Friedman's given name, Richard, to be listed on the ballot as well as his more commonly known nickname, "Kinky."
I agree with you. First step...but the real victory will begin to occur when all four candidates are allowed to debate. I cannot wait to see Kinky make an idiot out of Rick Perry live on television.
A Very Kinky Campaign An unpopular incumbent. A lackluster field. Could Kinky Friedman sneak into the Texas statehouse? By Holly Bailey Newsweek July 24, 2006 issue - The temperature gauge reads 93 degrees, and in the blazing Texas sunshine outside Carl's Corner truck stop near Dallas, about 100 people stand sweltering in the dusty gravel parking lot, waiting to celebrate the grand opening of a new biodiesel fuel plant partly owned by Willie Nelson. Most have dressed for the heat, but not Kinky Friedman. The man who aspires to be Texas's first independent governor since Sam Houston arrives looking like an outlaw cousin of Johnny Cash: a long-sleeved black shirt, alligator boots, a black cowboy hat and a leather fringe vest, which he proudly notes was a gift from Waylon Jennings. "The governor has arrived!" Friedman booms. And with that, the best-selling mystery writer and former lead singer of the Texas Jewboys digs into his vest pocket, which is stuffed with Cuban cigars—fat Montecristo No. 2's, the same kind Fidel used to smoke. "It's gonna be a long day, so I came prepared," Friedman declares and lights up, oblivious to the barrage of no smoking signs plastered on the nearby fuel tanks. In a state known for its cast of larger-than-life political personalities, Kinky Friedman may be the most eccentric Texan ever to throw his Stetson into the political ring. At the very least, he's the first Jewish cowboy to seek the governor's mansion and probably the only gubernatorial candidate in the country who boasts about never having held a real job. His campaign slogans: "Why the Hell Not?" and "How Hard Can It Be?" Wherever he goes, he spouts corny, populist one-liners that can make him seem like a thawed relic from another era—which, truth be told, he kind of is. "I'm for the little fellers," he exclaims, "not the Rockefellers!" The other candidates put down his campaign as a novelty act, when they acknowledge he exists at all. "What can he offer besides comic relief?" mocks Texas Democratic Party chair Boyd Richie. But there's one thing his opponents can't ignore: much to their dismay, he's suddenly a serious contender. A Survey USA poll of likely Texas voters conducted last month put Friedman's support at 21 percent, running second to Gov. Rick Perry, the Republican incumbent, who clocked in with only 35 percent. Friedman has climbed to a paper-thin lead over his two other opponents—Democrat Chris Bell, who polled at 20 percent, and Carole Keeton Strayhorn, a Republican turned independent, who checked in at 19 percent. It's been an ugly year in Texas politics. Voters are tiring of Perry, who has gotten a rep as a do-nothing governor, and antipolitician hostilities are high, especially after Tom DeLay's troubles. But Friedman has another thing going for him: his campaign strategists are Bill Hillsman and Dean Barkley, the brains who turned pro wrestler Jesse Ventura into Minnesota's surprise governor. They know how to make voters take a stranger-than-fiction candidate seriously. "I don't go to work for people who I don't think have a real chance of winning," Hillsman says. "Kinky can win." Friedman claims he's in the race because he needs the closet space, but the idea to run came after a near-death experience in Cabo San Lucas a few summers ago. Swept to sea by a wave, Kinky ended up stranded on a jagged cliff for more than 24 hours with nothing but a soggy cigar. His friends thought he had faked his own death, but Friedman had an epiphany. "I had achieved a lot of my dreams," he says in a serious tone. "And I decided that I wanted to see younger Texans have the chance to achieve their dreams, just like I did." It's a story Hillsman and Barkley believe will resonate with voters. Only 29 percent turned out in the last election, and the campaign is looking to attract other disaffected types who could put it over the top. It's vintage Ventura—but Texas isn't Minnesota. Friedman won't benefit from same-day voter registration, which gave Ventura his biggest boost. And he can't beat his rivals in the fund-raising game. He's counting on lots of free publicity and help from his celebrity friends, like Ventura, who will join the campaign next month for a college tour. Willie Nelson and Jimmy Buffett are planning benefit concerts in the fall. As for Friedman, he'll stick to what he does best: being Kinky. At Carl's Corner, he shakes every hand that comes his way, poses for every picture and signs every autograph. "I feel it!" he says, firing up another stogie. "People are breaking our way!" Reaching into his pocket, he grabs a bandanna and dabs his sweaty brow. "The governor is hot," he says.
I actually got assigned the Kinky Friedman campaign that I have to do a project on in my Election Campaigns class here at UT this summer session. I have to cover paid advertising which shouldn't be all that difficult.
I think it's really telling that if you survey and screen for likely voters, Kinky is between Grandma and Bell for 3rd place. If you survey and accept all responses, Kinky is winning. Kinky is a liberal and is winning among people, like myself, who identify themselves as conservatives but think Perry is worth as much as a beer-drinking goat.
