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Prepare to embark on a thrilling comedic adventure seen through the booze-blurred eyes of Keesey Cypher, a government-trained killer with an ill-fated abundance of classified memories who has since resigned himself to a regrettable existence, sipping away his tainted past. It is this powerful thirst coupled with Cypher's hunger for games of chance that leads him to New Orleans' coziest dive-bar the day after Fat Tuesday where one night of seeming misfortune leads to a frighteningly funny reality of subversive politics, corporate greed, backwards logic, and star (double)-crossed romance. In this gripping social satire of modern times, Me and Bobby McGee pokes fun at the inane absurdities ingrained in our society, proving that freedom is truly subjective and karma is not just a philosophy, but a fate that is unwavering. And as an added bonus, for the careful reader and music fan, there are subtle connections throughout the novel to the classic folk song that inspired its title. In a world of terrible truths and impending doom, find out what happens when the only man with the power to stop it... decides not to.
“Out of the box writing” would best be the genre for Chad Coenson’s creative work titled, Me and Bobby McGee. We all know the song, but Chad Coenson created a witty and wild novel involving booze, women, gambling, kidnapping and yes, sex and violence, plus the daily hangover into a fast moving “guy novel.” He used a cool way with words that only the narration of a man’s inner most thoughts would expose. If this would become a movie, I would envision Chad to cast someone like Uma Thurman as Bobby, the femme fatale as he puts it, with a Mickey Rourke or Bruce Willis (as long as they gave him hair) protagonist, Keesey Chypher. Keesey is an ex-CIA trained assassin turned drunk. The star of the novel is tequila, with the co-star being a beer chaser. Seriously this book is not recommended reading for recovering alcoholics!
If my lead paragraph above is different than most reviews, let me simply say Chad Coenson has rubbed off on me. His writing is only believed after read, as he takes the reader through thought processes far beyond the boundaries of his plot and characters, and into the comedic reflections of our society, “Mars vs. Venus” relationships, and greed. Just when you think the book is about smuggling dope across the Mexican border, you get blind-sided with a twist and turn and off it goes in a new direction. The narration is something of a Guy Noir type of private detective portrayed on Garrison Keillor’s A Prairie –Home Companion, mixed of course with 80 proof alcohol and teamed up with a Charlie’s Not-So-Angelic antagonist. At first I wasn’t able to feel sympathetic to Keesey, as he staggered around New Orleans looking for his car, but after he got kicked in the balls three times in two days one has to feel sorry for the guy. This is the type of raw humor embedded in every sentence, a masterpiece of comedic literature. The book is not hard to put down … it’s impossible.
Reading Me and Bobby McGee I became relaxed feeling privileged to be brought into the lives of his characters, as Keesey’s smart witted tongue makes light of even the direst of situations. Bobby plays Keesey like a violin, or rather like a trained rat holding her feminine attractiveness the lure for good behavior. It’s a fantastic dynamic interaction of love and hate, attraction and disappointment – truly memorable. Something I hope to read more of these guys or see them in a movie; should this get adapted for the silver screen. Even the type style of the book’s galley text, for example, has a candid and inviting way about it, mixing some handwritten author’s notes along with an occasional pen & ink illustration by E. Cobb Holzer, bringing an artistic embellishment into the storyline.
Chad W. Coenson’s writing can best be illustrated by this paragraph which I highlighted when reading the book, so as to include an excerpt here in my review. On the risk of being verbose, I shall reprint the entire, unedited paragraph:
“So often in life we come to that obligatory crossroad, the mandatory intersection of all things ambiguous and life altering. Be it the lyrics from your favorite blues song or a mental collision that happens every time you make a choice, we’ve all been to “the crossroads.” Or maybe we haven’t. Maybe the metaphorical crossroad is only a conceivable abomination for those of us who constantly make bad decisions. All my life I’ve been trying to find a place to call home and it finally dawned on me. My address, home sweet home, the place I hang my head because I don’t wear hats, is “the Crossroads.” It’s the place where the sun stops shining just long enough for the devil to get his due. It is truly the lost settlement of indecision, a place devoid of reason, like a giant scale that never lies or tells the truth. And yet, I find solace in this purgatory for consequence, because despite its infinite indifference, the next step is always clearly defined: heaven or hell.”
This book is a surprise from the start. It’s a great book to throw into your carry-on bag and open on a chaise lounge by a swimming pool or to page while waiting in an airport or on a plane. If you have a friend graduating school – get him this for a gift. Besides the engulfing enjoyment, it may steer him away from the swinging door entrance to a sleazy local watering hole, especially if the lure of a woman to beautiful to logically be there is baited inside. In Keesey’s famous words, “Make mine a Jack with a beer chaser."
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