Dobie Maxwell's 'Dented Can' Diary: A Whore No More

Monday March 10^th, 2014 – Island Lake, IL

   My birthday is coming up this week, and I’m really having second thoughts about many facets of my life. I am deeply disappointed with the way things have turned out, and with each passing year I feel like it’s all been a total waste of both sperm and egg. My self esteem is dragging ass.

   I know a lot of it is my own fault, but it seems life is so cruel in that there’s often no chance for a person to make up for their mistakes. I don’t deny I’ve screwed a lot of things up, but so have a lot of others – many much worse than me. I don’t think my punishment has fairly fit my crimes.

   Part of my problem is that I’ve always had a big mouth. Even as a kid, I couldn’t help but blurt out whatever I happened to be thinking – often not the popular opinion. I’ve been punched in the nose, slapped in the face and kicked in the shins among other places, but I just can’t keep quiet.

   I don’t think I’m better than anybody, and more often than not the finger points directly at me – but that’s never what my detractors see. When I do happen to lash out at something or somebody else, that’s when I get in trouble. I’d like to learn to shut my mouth, but I wonder if it’s too late?

   A lot of damage has already been done. I’m banned from the Funny Bone Comedy Club chain because several of their main people took offense to a blog entry I wrote a few years ago about a club owner that died. Had they read what I wrote they would plainly see that I was the one in the line of fire, but that doesn’t matter. They heard about it, and that was enough for them. I’m toast.

   The result has been I’m banned from the Funny Bone chain – even though I’d be a great act for their clubs, and really kick ass for an affordable price. Granted, in hindsight I might have wanted to say it a little differently but looking back over it I’m still standing by what I said. It’s the truth.

   Too bad for me, truth is about the last thing that’s important in show business. Perception has a far bigger influence, and I’m perceived as a pariah by some people that could have really helped me advance – at least at the comedy club level. That’s not the be all end all, but it does pay bills.

   Another place I’m not welcome is the Bob and Tom radio show in Indianapolis. I still shudder when people ask me about it, but I still don’t know what I did to make them so angry as to throw me physically out of their studio. I told a story on the air - that I was asked to by Tom Griswold – and they flipped out like I raped a girl scout. They were mean to me, and I still don’t know why.

   I said I was sorry – and meant it – to both the Funny Bone people and Bob and Tom and all of their staff. I never got a response from any of them, and from a human standpoint I think it’s just plain rude. Again, I don’t think I’m better than anyone but if someone sent me an apology I’d at least be courteous enough to answer them and acknowledge it. They treated me like a total leper.

   The Funny Business Agency is another sore spot. I worked my ass off and drove my tires bald for John Yoder more than twenty years, and he never ONCE said thank you or gave me a run of his best clubs as a reward for all the favors I did for him. I drove in blizzards through the U.P. of Michigan and risked my life for that popsicle hearted bastard without so much as even a pretend thank you. What, I’m not a human with feelings? I guess not, and I’m just sick of that treatment.

   Then he turns his business over to his kids and one of them fires me just because he can. I had a check bounce at one of their clubs, and not only did it take weeks for me to get paid – the five checks I wrote from the bad one I got bounced, and I was stuck with $110 in overdraft penalties.

   Did they ever pay me back? NO, and it still makes my piss bubble with anger. Had it been the other way around, they’d have called out the National Guard to get their money and I’d probably be in prison right now. Shouldn’t respect go both ways? Again, I was treated like a turtle turd.

   I could go on and on, but I don’t want to. J.D. at the Comedy Café in Milwaukee still owes me $400 from shows I did in 1992 he never paid me for. I wanted to go after the money in court, but the booker at the time begged me not to and promised she’d get me my money. I’m still waiting.

   Why am I still trying to impress dysfunctional people like this? It used to be because I thought it would get me somewhere in ‘show business’. These people could not care less about anything to do with show business. They only want to further their power base, and I’m just not part of it even though I’m more than capable of doing the job. They don’t like me personally, so I’m out.

   Unfortunately, in the comedy business it would be nice to be able to have the exposure of the Bob and Tom show in 200 markets and be able to work 20 Funny Bones for good pay each and every year. I live in Chicago, so working all of the Funny Business Midwest stuff would be very convenient – not to mention a win/win for everybody. I’d be a rock solid low maintenance act.

   Had I shut my mouth, would it have made a difference? Maybe, but there’s no guarantee. I can name all kinds of other acts that have jumped through the hoops and still gotten the old steel toed work boot in the fanny. This can be a hellish business, and it’s all a matter of who plays politics.

   I’m not a politician, I’m an entertainer – or I thought I was. How I managed to last this long is borderline miraculous. I’ve scraped, scrapped and scrambled a living together even after having the ax fall by the Bob and Toms, Funny Bones and Yoders of the world, but I’m getting so tired of having to live like a bug while every booker’s house I’ve ever visited is as big as Graceland.

   I just don’t have the desire to be in the trenches anymore. What does it lead to? Had I been able to shut my mouth, maybe I’d have been able to make more money – or maybe not. Hoping to pry bookings out of people that have zero passion for standup comedy as a craft doesn’t interest me.

   I’ve done it full time since 1985, and I’ve about had my fill. For every Zanies Comedy Club or Tom Sobel in Louisville that has treated me like a human being, there are a dozen J.D.s or Funny Business bookers that have pimped me out like Mabel the whore. My whoring days are ending.

   Reconnecting with my siblings has been a major milestone in my life. It has taken a lifetime to achieve, and after doing it I have lost all desire to stay in the comedy club meat grinder. It would have been nice to work on a Bob and Tom tour as I hear they’re fun, but I never got the chance.

   I’m also thinking of ending this blog on my birthday. It’s gotten me into enough trouble, and I have no idea if more than 100 people even read the damn thing. I’ve tried to be a good person to a fault, but it hasn’t gotten me anywhere. I think it’s time to do something else. My esteem hurts.

After decades of playing the politics game, I just don't care anymore. My dignity and self respect are worth much more than trying to please dysfunctional people. I'm sick of trying.