Medina, Texas ? A three-inch statue of an armored Don Quixote rides on the dashboard of Kinky Friedman’s well-worn Nissan SUV.

Like the 17th-century Spanish literary hero, the 60-year-old musician, mystery writer and operator of an animal rescue ranch intends to defend the helpless and destroy those he considers wicked. And he’s ready to surrender at least a good chunk of his comfortable life in search of glory and adventure.

The field of battle is politics. Friedman’s quest: to get elected governor of Texas in 2006.

Friedman — whose books include “Kill Two Birds and Get Stoned” and “Kinky Friedman’s Guide to Texas Etiquette” — downplays suggestions this is all just a quixotic fantasy or stunt by an irreverent joker-minstrel interested in hawking books, music CDs and bottles of olive oil and salsa. A political independent, he says his candidacy is born out of a passion for Texas, a disgust with political correctness and what he considers a pathetic dearth of inspiration from the current administration.

“This is not so much a political campaign as it is a spiritual one,” Friedman says.

“You can say it’s a joke if you want. I would say the most recent joke was the last gubernatorial election — $100 million to destroy each other, to make us vote for the lesser evil,” he says.

Friedman makes an unlikely candidate, a fact in which he revels. “I’m the unpolitician,” he says.

Musician and author Kinky Friedman plans to run for governor of Texas in 2006. Friedman, pictured Jan. 21 at his ranch near Medina, Texas, announced his candidacy Feb. 3 in front of the Alamo in San Antonio.

“Yes, there is some humor involved,” says Friedman, whose campaign slogans include “He’s Not Kinky, He’s My Governor” and “Kinky for Governor — Why the Hell Not?”

At the foundation of his beliefs is a battle against what he calls “wussification” — political correctness that’s weakened spiritual and cultural fibers and has strangled free thought and independence.

People are afraid now to say “Merry Christmas,” afraid to light up a cigar, afraid to say it’s OK to pray in schools, he says. “We didn’t get to be the Lone Star State by being politically correct.”