More Than Cereal

Sunday October 3rd, 2010 - Lake Villa, IL

   Life is short. Life is precious. Life is more than a brand of cereal. It’s half over before it sinks in with most of us, but I grasp the concept loud and clear now more than ever. I can see my own mortality, and I can live with it. For a while. Then I won’t have any choice.

   Old age is not something that’s run deeply in my immediate family, and at least on my grandfather’s side it hasn’t been pleasant. He was one of seven brothers, and six of them died of cancer - including him. The oldest brother drank himself to death and died at 48.

   One of my grandpa’s brothers had a son I was close to, and he died of cancer at 44 back in 2001. We used to talk about it freely, and knew it was predisposed in our family and it had a good chance of getting passed down to us as well. Sure enough, he was having back pain of all things and headaches, and he went to have it checked and they found cancer.

   It shocked everyone, and he eventually died a slow painful death. It was a horrible way to go, and I can still remember the look in his eye the last time I saw him. He was near the end, and couldn’t speak anymore. He looked up at me and just shook his head. I told him I loved him and we both started to cry. I never saw him again, and that’s an ugly memory.

   I’ve been having some back pain and headaches myself lately, and couldn’t help but to wonder at least for a second if that’s the reason. Who knows? Nothing would surprise me at this point, and all I can do is live the best I can. I know I haven’t been drinking enough water or eating as well as I should be or exercising regularly, so I’ll start by trying that.

   I’ve been having some hellacious headaches in the last few weeks, and that’s something I never had in the past. I’ve been pretty healthy actually, but eventually it catches up with us all. The fresh bounce of youth is gone forever, and now I have to take much better care of myself. My cousin was only 44 when he died, and it’s not impossible in my case either.

   Another thing that made me think of this was I heard Paul Lane, the owner of the Funny Bone in Des Moines, died this week at 46. I knew Paul, but not on a friendly basis for the most part. I didn‘t have any flaming arguments with him, but we weren‘t buddies either.

   Comedians and club owners can clash easily and often do. The reason for it is we’re not in the business for the same reason. Comedians want to be recognized for our talents and get the love and acceptance we never got as children. Club owners want to sell whiskey.

   Most times they know nothing about comedy or the mindset of comedians, and to them we’re just interchangeable whores who can be used and abused at will. There’s always an inexhaustible supply of us near by, and like Kleenex - another fresh one always pops up.

   I knew Paul when he worked in South Bend, IN at the Funny Bone there. He liked to be a ball buster and have comics kiss his ass, which I just refuse to do. Business schmoozing is one thing, but with him I sensed it went deeper than that. I refused to play that game.

   The reason I refused was that I’d been playing it way too much in way too many places. Especially coming up, comedy is nothing but playing the ass kissing game. If it’s not on a club owner basis it’s with the bookers, and sooner or later it gets old. It was sooner in my case, and after a while I learned to go around people like Paul Lane to avoid the clashes.

   Paul eventually went to Des Moines and became the owner of that club. I happen to like Des Moines a lot, and would have loved to be a regular there. I think I could have built an outstanding following over time, but I never got the chance. I stopped in a few times to do guest sets over the years, and blew the doors off that place. But I never booked a paid gig.

   Every time I tried to do it, I had to play the phone tag game with Paul Lane. He’d be out more than he was in, and when he was in he was either on the phone or the old stand by - ‘in a meeting’. That’s my favorite. How many times have I been in someone’s office just hanging out wasting time when they tell someone else they’re ‘in a meeting’? Too many.

   I personally don’t have any ill feelings toward Paul Lane, but I know a number of other comics do. There won’t be a lot of tears shed by those people as word gets out, and I can already see the resumes being addressed en masse to be mailed to Des Moines this week to get in line for the next person who’ll be booking the club. It’s morbid, but very true.

   Outside people have NO idea how much petty politics plays a part in the comedy game. A lot of times the reasons we do or don’t work a particular town is how the club owner or booker feels about us personally. I work Salt Lake City and Pittsburgh a lot because those club owners know me and think I do a good job. If they sell their clubs, I’m out of work.

   Zanies in Chicago is another example. I’ve gotten a ton of work there over twenty years, mainly because I’m one of ‘their boys’. It’s not fair, it just is. Yes, I can do the job but so can a lot of others who don’t work there on a regular basis. I could kick major ass in Des Moines at the Funny Bone, but I never got a chance because I wouldn’t deal with Paul.

   No one club or booker needs any one comic to survive. There are plenty of acts on each level to book clubs for years and never have to repeat. There are also many clubs and gigs that need quality acts and will be glad to hire the person who just clashed with someone.

   I’ve had my share of clashes over the years, and it ended up causing me to learn how to go around the pinheads. I’ve found that’s the best way, as trying to go through causes pain and suffering that’s not really necessary. True comedians will outlast scumbag owners or bookers every time. It may take several years or more for it to happen, but it always will.

   The comedians are in it with their heart, while the bookers and owners are only thinking with their wallets. Hearts go deeper than pockets, so the owners will always lose a contest of endurance. Paul Lane has to answer for his own life, as we all do. I have enough going on in my own life to not point any fingers. We both survived the fact I didn’t get to work in Des Moines, and it’s no big deal. Now I might get that chance. Or not. Or my own life could end in an instant, or like my cousin. Life is day by day. I’m grateful for each one.

Posted via email from Dobie Maxwell's "Dented Can" Diary