Crying Baby Crisis

Thursday January 6th, 2011 - Belize City, Belize/Houston, TX/Chicago, IL

   Another fourteen hour mega day of travel at its unpleasant worst. I guess it’s part of the job, but that doesn’t make it fun - and it isn’t. I had to be off ship by 10am so the steward could hose off my room for the next inmate. Once we’re done working, we’re not a factor anymore. All that’s important is the next cruise, and getting ready for that. It‘s business.

   There was a delay in getting off the ship because apparently someone died on board last night. Everyone was talking about it, and conversation took on an eerie mood. It’s not the first time someone died aboard a ship, and in fact they even have a morgue on board. I’ve seen it on a couple of the ships when I went to do laundry, and I’m sure there’s one on all.

   The sheer mega girth of these ships still floors me. There are thousands of people living on each one of them, and it’s like a floating town all unto itself. In any town people do die and it has to be addressed. I have no details of who it was or how it happened, but I was at least a little concerned because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to disembark to catch my plane.

   There were no tender boats available when Hal Spear and I were ready to check out, and we had to wait helplessly until they sent one. They eventually did, and we took the fifteen minute ride into Belize City that took over twenty because this captain took his time. Last time, the guy drove like Evel Knievel’s coked up stunt double and we made it a lot faster.

   Every little thing happened today to cause a delay. There were people with crutches and in wheelchairs, and it took extra long to get off the tender boat. Then we had to take extra time in customs, because the guy in charge was having his lunch and didn’t want to put us ahead of that. Then, our cab driver had us walk a few blocks to where his cab was parked.

  Each of those things ate up minutes, and then it became a race against the clock. The last thing I want to do is miss a plane, especially in a foreign country. I haven’t yet, but it’s an ongoing concern. We have to be on our toes and make sure we get to our airports on time.

   Getting from Belize to Houston wasn’t a big hassle, but the time in Houston grew from a two hour delay to eight and a half hours. Last time I flew in to Houston from Belize, the time spent in U.S. Customs was maybe 15-20 minutes. It was a hassle, but only because I was in line behind some moron with six passports for her family. This time was different.

   There was a line of people that was a cross between Ellis Island and Disneyland. There were velvet roped areas with several hundred people in line if not a couple thousand. I’ve never seen it close to being that busy, and it took over an hour to wallow through it all. If my connection been sooner, I’d have missed it for sure. This is the stress they pay us for.

   Then, to make it worse, we had to go through security AGAIN. I could have flipped out but it wouldn’t have avoided it, so I clenched my teeth and let the TSA morons bark their usual orders with their usual air of self importance and got it over with. Then, the time of departure kept getting pushed back from 4:30 to 6:00 to 6:50 to 8:35. We left about 8:55.

   There had been a screaming infant on the plane from Belize to Houston that drove all of us to the point of casting lots as to who would commit the murder. Of course, Beelzebaby had to sit directly behind me, and had lungs like leather and the stamina of an Olympian.

   This little water head bastard would NOT shut up, and the mother was oblivious to it all the whole time. The rest of the plane was on edge, and I finally looked back over the seat and said “Just kill me now. ENOUGH already.” I could tell the other passengers were on the same page, but again I’m the only one that would say it out loud. My life in a nutshell.

   I don’t know what a mother is supposed to do to shut a baby up, but that’s not anyone’s concern on a plane. Take the kid to the bathroom, or walk it up and down the aisle or flip out a boob or cookie or something to shut it up before a bunch of passengers try to kill it.

   I actually really like kids, but this was out of control. That thing must have wailed for a full half hour. It sure seemed like it, and it was at a pitch that got right in everyone’s craw and stayed there. I never had to be in that situation, and I try to have sympathy for people if I can but this was completely unbearable. After a while longer I said something again.

   I got up out of my seat and calmly asked, “Do I need to call an exorcist, or an attorney? One of us is not going to live much longer if you don’t SHUT THAT LITTLE MONKEY BASTARD THE HELL UP.” Granted, that wasn’t the Dale Carnegie way of dealing with a problem like that, but it did get the message across. Now I could feel the tension build.

   A flight attendant came over and asked me to sit down. I said I would when the kid was quiet, and nobody came to my defense. I suggested she walk the kid around or put a sweat sock in it’s mouth or something to make the torture stop, but I turned into the bad guy in a second for mentioning it out loud. I can’t believe the pilot didn’t hear it up in the cockpit.

   The payoff is a typical Mr. Lucky story. Of course the woman was going to Chicago of all the places on Earth, and of course she was on the flight I was on. About halfway home the kid starts wailing AGAIN, and it pissed off everyone near us on that plane as well.

   I wasn’t directly in front of them like last time, but I could hear other people getting up in arms about it near me. But again, nobody said anything and the kid kept yodeling like a hurt animal on and off all the way back to Chicago. I’ll give it one thing, it had stamina.

   These are the kinds of things we deal with on ‘off’ days. I got  back to Chicago around 11:20, and then Marc Schultz and his wife Audrey were kind enough to pick me up from the airport. I took Marc out for something to eat as thanks, and by the time I drove all the way back home, it was almost 2am. I was exhausted physically, mentally and socially.

   I’m sorry I had to get in the woman’s face, but it was a nightmare. My grandpa used to say “Rubbers are cheap - USE them. Often.” If I knew I was going to have a demon seed child like that, I’d put it up for adoption before it was even born. It caught me at the worst time, on the way home from a long drawn out difficult road trip. I need to get some rest.

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Pursuing Happiness

Wednesday January 5th, 2011 - Roatan, Honduras

   What am I, insane? My last day in a sunny paradise, and I don’t get out there and enjoy it. I’m sure I’ll regret it later this week, but I got on a roll with projects and that felt better to me than a sun soaked walk on the beach. Millions of Midwesterners would kill to trade places, but I stayed on board all day and lost myself completely having fun with my work.

   I do love the sunshine, but I’ve had a lot of it on this run and my mind is hankering for a taste of home cooking. If that includes some snow and ice for a few weeks, I can adjust. It won’t kill me to face winter conditions, especially since I know I’ve got more bookings in the sun coming up in two weeks and again at the end of February. The time will go fast.

   Right now, all I’m thinking about is getting back to Chicago and Milwaukee and start to put in motion everything I’ve been planning out at sea. I have a ‘Schlitz Happened!’ show Friday January 28th at the South Milwaukee Performing Arts Center, and it’s going to be a challenge to put butts in the seats. I have to do some promotional work, but I don’t mind.

   The on stage part of the show is coming along, because I can work on it on the ship. It’s different with the promotional stuff because I have to be there to do it in person. I hope to get some media coverage, and I’m sure I’ll buy some ads too. Phil Cianciola has given me some mentions on his pod cast, and I told him I’d buy some ads. I‘ll gladly live up to that

   I have to admit, life and all that goes with it is a whole lot less stressful and dare I even say fun when there‘s a little bit of money in the bank. I don’t have a lot compared to some people, but I do have a little extra right now and it frees up my mind to take some chances I couldn’t take before. It also allows me more free time to spend working on my projects.

   I’m as happy as I’ve been in a long time, just thinking about the prospect of taking some time to do what I want to do rather than have to accept low paying stress filled hell gigs to pay my bills every month. That’s a waste of everyone’s time, and my attitude is preserved to focus on more big picture long term creative projects. I’m in a creatively positive place.

   That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Every day job I’ve ever had to take in my life has only been a temporary detour to get me to the place I am now. I always knew where I wanted to end up, I just never knew the best way to get there. If I can have freedom to create, I’ll be fine. For this next year, I’ve got enough money to survive and a backlog of ideas to develop.

   I’ve always had to fight with people my whole life creatively, and I’m sick of it. I enjoy having the freedom to do things my own way, and far more often than not when I’ve had the chance to be in control it’s worked out smashingly well. Plus, it’s a fun experience to be in charge and call the shots so why not get back there again and see what can develop?

   I’m beyond excited to be going home tomorrow, and even more thrilled to have a show to promote at the end of the month. Whatever happens, it will be a building block for the future and a significant step forward. It’s also a risk, but at least I can afford to chance it.

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

The Walls Have Ears

Tuesday January 4th, 2011 - Grand Cayman Island

   This is the last night of work on a marathon ship run, and I can’t say I’m upset. It’s been my longest run of gigs to date, and I wondered how I’d hold up. I gutted it out and did my time, but now I’m thinking longingly about going home to start working on my projects.

   Tonight I closed it out with three shows. The first two were decent, but the last one was pulling teeth. The crowd was tired, and I was too. I got off the ship at Grand Cayman and took a long walk through town to get some exercise and sunshine. I overdid it and when I got back to the ship I could barely stand. I shouldn’t have done that on a three show night.

   I’m learning new things all the time out here. The best way to learn, even though it’s the most difficult, is to make a huge mistake and then see what the consequences are. It’ll put things into perspective in a hurry, and teach a great lesson of what not to do the next time.

   That’s pretty much what I did with my standup career in clubs, and I’ve made some bad mistakes people still talk about today. That’s just the way it turned out. I never tried to be a boat rocker or maverick, but a few do see me that way. I am still perceived as a flaming lunatic by some, and even if I tried to fight it that’s what they’re going to think. So be it.

   The ships are a different story. I can’t afford to make the same magnitude of mistakes as I did in the clubs coming up. This is a much more professional atmosphere, and they have a lot more strict and rigid rules than comedy clubs ever did. I’m trying my absolute best to fit in and do my job quietly and without incident. I’m shutting my mouth to avoid trouble.

   I am noticing significantly more people coming up to tell me they enjoyed my show. I’ll always try to be friendly and thank them, but it is uncomfortable in a way. This is the part of show business that’s never thought about when a person gets in it. Everyone thinks it’s all glamorous, and only single sexy women approach after shows with their room key.

   That’s the dream part, and sounds great in theory. The reality is, anyone can approach at any time, in any mood. Sometimes they can be drunk and obnoxious, others annoying and bothersome, and even mentally ill. Most times they only want to say they liked the show.

   I still think it’s very important to let people do that, even if it’s during a meal. I asked to be in this business, so I never complain if someone comes over to say hello, but I do want to be at my best when they do and not have a stalk of broccoli stuck between my teeth.

     It’s also important to watch what I say, to whom I say it and how loud it’s said. If I have an issue with someone or something on the ship, I have to be extra careful how I mention it, because ears are everywhere. Even if I’m only joking, a passenger doesn’t know that.

   This is very good training should I ever get anywhere near famous. Everywhere I go on a ship or even in ports, I never know who’s watching so I need to be on my best behavior always. It’s part of the game, and I accept it. The walls have ears, and I need to know that.

=

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Attention To Detail

Monday January 3rd, 2011 - Somewhere At Sea

   Two killer shows tonight, but I’m still not close to being satisfied with my act. Working with Hal Spear this week has been a great reality check in that he’s written for all kinds of TV shows over many years and really understands comedy structure. He’s a student of the entire comedy craft just as I am, and we’ve been having a mini comedy clinic this week.

   Hal is also a rabid life long fan of Rodney Dangerfield’s just as I am, and we’ve been in a zone shooting lines from Rodney’s act and movies back and forth at each other, making each other laugh out loud. Hal got to know Rodney from selling him jokes over the years, and has some entertaining stories about them hanging out. Rodney was a true craftsman.

   Hal said he would send jokes to Rodney, and many times they’d come back with words crossed out or changed, and would be better jokes than the ones Hal sent in. Rodney told Hal to use those jokes, but he still ended up buying some too. Paying this kind of detailed attention to jokes is getting to be a lost art. I don’t ever want to lose my technical edge.

   It’s never bad to dissect comedy for a week with a fellow technician, as it can only help to make me a better comic for getting down there under the hood and adjusting the wires. Little tweaks here and there can combine to make a huge difference, and give a tune up to an engine that’s already running pretty smoothly. I’ll take this opportunity for a tune up.

   The main thing I need now is improvement on structure of my act as a whole, and a list of subjects to write about that Mr. Lucky as a comedy character can explore. Hal agrees I don’t stress that character enough during the whole of my show, and it can be improved.

   I’ve long said I can do that, even though it would mean throwing out some material that gets big laughs because it doesn’t really fit the character. Do I want to do that? That’s the sacrifice I’ll have to make if I want to take it to the limit, but for now the stuff still works.

     One thing working the ships is good for is adding new material. There are opportunities to throw in new lines and premises every night, and I’d be stupid not to do it. Falling back on old material just because it works isn’t the answer. This has been a productive week.

   Offstage, I’ve been working hard on my Milwaukee show ‘Schlitz Happened!’. I have a lot of material there too, but from Hal’s suggestions I’ve been working on a running order and how it can best be presented each time. He’s got experience and I’ve been listening.

   All of this is just a very slow process and the more I work at it the slower it seems to go. I’m on my own clock, and nobody knows or cares how much work is involved, but I want to blow people away with this show, and that takes a lot of preparation. I’m doing it right.

   Painfully boring as all this probably sounds to everyone else, I’m really enjoying every little bit of it on every level. This gets my creative juices bubbling and occupies my time with something that interests me greatly. Isn’t that what life’s about? I’m living a dream.

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A Picture Of Health

Sunday January 2nd, 2011 - Miami, FL

   No question about it anymore - I’m officially old. I found myself watching ‘60 Minutes’ today. On purpose. I remember my how my grandpa used to love that show and wouldn’t miss it for anything. He planned his week around it and that’s the one time I couldn’t talk to him. I used to hate that show almost as much as Hee Haw, which my grandma loved.

   Today there was a great feature on Wynton Marsalis. I’ve always liked that guy because of the passion he has for his craft. He’s always working on improving himself and spreads his music around for the love of it. I hope he’s wealthy, but if he isn’t he sure seems to be enjoying himself. That’s what life is all about, and I really respect the guy. It inspired me.

   I also felt old watching the Seattle Seahawks play the St. Louis Rams tonight and seeing Charlie Whitehurst play quarterback for Seattle. I still remember his father David playing for the Green Bay Packers in the ‘70s when the team was horrible. My childhood lives on, but only in memory. The real world is passing me by, and my generation is fading fast.

   I saw a frightening news report yesterday that 10,000 baby boomers a day are turning 65 and the health care system isn’t going to be able to handle it. One lady interviewed said it was a full time job just to stay healthy at age 65. I felt my prostate enlarge as I watched.

   There’s no excuse anymore, I really do have to take better care of myself physically. I’m a lot closer to 50 than 20 and time isn’t on my side anymore. Health issues sneak up like a burglar, and before I know it my valuables are gone forever. I need to address this before I let it get any further. Nobody can do it for me, this is an individual issue for every human.

   The problem is, fat and sugar taste so damn good. Sitting around doing absolutely zilch is WAY more fun than going to the gym and running on a treadmill or lifting those heavy weights in a sweaty room full of farting apes. A healthy lifestyle requires effort. Period.

   I’ve said I’m going to do it before, and I do - for a while. A short while. Then I drift out of it again for whatever reason, usually lack of time. I’m not fooling anybody by trying to make excuses, especially me. Exercise isn‘t fun, and I haven’t been in top shape for years.

   I haven’t even been in medium shape. I stopped playing sports in my late twenties and it shows. I doubt if I could do ten pushups or run a 100 yard dash without having to have an ambulance within seeing distance before I started. The truth is, I’m asking for big trouble.

   My grandpa had a heart bypass in his late 50s, and it was a major deal back then. He did smoke for years, and his diet was probably close to being as bad as mine, but maybe not. I think there are more unhealthy things to eat available more readily now than ever before.

   I’d hate to think I came all this way and worked this hard on my comedy, only to have a grabber take me out with one punch. That could easily happen, and if I don’t change soon and drastically, it won’t be long. If there’s a smart project to take on in 2011, this is it.

   I know I’m not alone in this, and it sucks. Who wants to deny themselves delicious food and have to be careful about every little thing that goes into one’s mouth? It’s a cruel joke to finally have the money and means to enjoy some of the finer things, and then not get to go nuts because of health reasons. Someone in charge has to be laughing about all of this.

   But, it is what it is. I had years, no - decades of scarfing every and anything I could pack down my hole without thinking twice. I’ve eaten in some of the finest restaurants in all of North America, and gotten to sample some absolutely scrumptious food during that time.

   Celery stalks dipped in low fat yogurt for my lunch just doesn’t get me excited, even if I was eating it served on Cindy Crawford’s ass. Tofu and skim milk don’t do it. Pastrami or corned beef and Dr. Brown’s Black Cherry soda do. Those days are over. Hello, oatmeal.

   I know my water intake is probably way below the optimal amount as well. Every time I have ever gone to see anyone in any form of medical position, I get warned to drink more water. I try to do it at times, but then I pee so much I wear out shoes finding a bathroom.

     Plus, I don’t think I’m going to be able to change it all in a day, week, month or even an entire year. I’ve got all kinds of special sauce from every fast food restaurant in existence encrusted throughout my entire colon like leaves in a drain pipe. I need to really start over and flush as much of it out and let my body heal itself. I don’t want my colon like Elvis’s.

   Supposedly his looked like a picnic ham and John Wayne’s wasn’t much better. He ate enough red meat to qualify for vampire status and I think I’m getting close. I love meat of all kinds, but red is especially delicious. Rare steaks are the best in taste, but probably the worst in every other category. And don’t get me started on hotdogs. They’re yummy too.

   My carcinogen and free radical levels must be right up there with the amount of nuclear fallout they found in Nagasaki’s water supply. I like preservatives, chemicals and all other edible treats bad for me. MSG? Yummy! How about washing it down with some Pepsi?

   That being said, I hung out with Hal Spear today in Miami for a few hours while we had some time before the ship left with a new load of passengers. Hal is a very nice guy and is a wealth of comedy information. He’s a total student of the game, as am I. We are both on the same page about a lot of things, and it’s a rare treat to be able to talk shop on the ship.

   Hal is extremely creative. He’s written several movie treatments and scripts, and also is an inventor of magic tricks of all things. We visited a magic shop in downtown Miami for a few minutes coming from lunch, and it was fun to watch the guys there sell the tricks.

   It’s very similar to the concept of Uranus Factory Outlet. I want to sell funny gimmicks on the internet, and marketing is the key. The guys working the booth were slick and very entertaining. It was a treat to watch them work, as it was to walk around Miami in perfect sunny weather. Then Hal and I went to a fish joint and I had twin lobster tails on special. Up goes my cholesterol, butter intake, but also my self awareness. I have to watch myself.

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

The Year Of Milwaukee

Saturday January 1st, 2011 - Somewhere At Sea

   Is it possible to ever be satisfied in this life? It seems to be human nature to always want more no matter how much we may already have, but that want is also what made us strive to achieve or attain anything in the first place. If it runs out, does life have any spice left?

   There are countless examples of people who have had what the majority of others in the world would consider major success, and yet they died either miserable, broke or not able to fully enjoy the status they’d been granted by their circumstances. I find that quite cruel.

   Elvis comes to mind immediately, as does Michael Jackson. Those were two of the very biggest single stars ever, but they were both screwed up to the point of being ridiculously out of touch with reality right to the point of their deaths. Their money didn’t prevent it.

   Marilyn Monroe is another. She had seemingly everything, but died in circumstances of questionable origin at age 36. Countless millions saw all three of those people as icons of their generation, but all three of them died young and never got to live out a full lifespan.

   There is no shortage of examples to cite either. John Belushi comes to mind. He was 33 and on top of the world, or so it seemed. Richard Jeni is another. That’s someone I had an opportunity to meet in person, and by all accounts he had what most comedians dream of.

   Still, he ended up taking his own life and most onlookers including myself wonder how a guy with all that going for him could be so unhappy. But, I’ve been to that point myself. I’ve struggled with depression for years, and I’ve been to the point of ending it all myself.

   In my mind, I didn’t get what I thought I wanted. In other people’s minds, I was and am doing great. I get all kinds of people telling me they wish they were me, but I don’t see it. In many ways I’m a complete bust out, and very unfulfilled. I guess it’s in who views it.

   All that being said, I think all of us need to chase what’s important to us as individuals. I can’t speak for anyone else but me though, so I’ll focus on what I think is worth chasing. Nobody else is me, and nobody knows what pleases me but me. It‘s up to me to go get it.

   As this year starts, in my heart I know the ‘Schlitz Happened!’ one man show should be given the prime spot of things to accomplish. It’s a fun show about my home town, and of all the things I’m doing I think I can make come to life the fastest. My gut says it’s a hit.

   It already has gotten more notice in Milwaukee in six months than my standup has in a lifetime. The shows I’ve done have not only been well received, but I can see a future for years to come in polishing a product for a niche market. It’s something I can build upon.

   Plus, Milwaukee is always going to be part of my DNA. It’s my home town and as long as I’m on this cosmic plane I’ll think Cudahy is funny and bratwurst tastes good. Why not market that part of me and share it with others who get it? 2011 is the year of Milwaukee.

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No Resolutions

Friday December 31st, 2010 - Somewhere At Sea

   Another year in the books. I can’t believe it’s 2011 already. Or is it? The Chinese are on their own schedule, and their year is 4708. The Jewish year is 5771. Who knows what the real story is? I suppose one could start counting years any time but it doesn’t matter in the long run. The universe has been in business a lot longer than we Earth mopes can fathom.

   I wonder what year it really is in the big scheme of things? There are all kinds of planets in all kinds of solar systems in all kinds of galaxies in the mighty expanse of the universe, and we’re all just pimples on the posterior of anything close to being halfway important.

   I gave up trying to figure it out, much less waste my time with New Year’s resolutions. I make resolutions all the time, and then I break some of them and start all over again all year long. Doing it on a specific day sounds great in theory, but it never works for long.

   Still, it’s kind of neat to see the year change. It’s like the odometer on a car changing to a round number. It doesn’t really mean anything, but it’s kind of fun to see because of the scarcity of it. A year takes, well, a year to go by, and we all have a very limited number.

   This past one has been very good for me. Last year at this time I was in Eau Claire, WI doing a fun gig at a hotel. It was bitter cold and I remember wondering seriously if my car was going to start the next morning. It did, but I started the year off with no set direction.

   I had no idea I’d be doing cruise ships, and even though it’s been a difficult adjustment, I’m still light years ahead financially than I was just one year ago. It’s bailed me out and it also made me a much better comedian. I can feel a positive momentum build, and even if the ships don’t last until next year I’ll be able to transition into the next project smoothly.

   The shows tonight were a lot better than I expected. The early show had a minor glitch, but I dealt with it. There were three kids right up front and they talked through the whole show. The parents were sitting a couple of rows behind, and didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. It became a major distraction, but all I could do was stay on stage for my time.

   These kinds of things happen on the ships, and even though I don’t like it I’m starting to deal with it better. I’m not going to flip out, even though it’s rude as hell. I’m not paid for babysitting, but it seems to come with the territory once in a while. Tonight it did, but I’ll cause a lot less waves if I shut up and take it rather than call the parents out from stage.

   Eventually, they petered out and I was able to finish the show on a high note and get off with some dignity left. Nobody in that audience knew how difficult it really was to keep it going, but that’s not their job. I did mine, and that’s all that matters. I’m learning. Slowly.

   The second show was rocking from start to finish. It was a full house and they weren’t a typical drunk, stupid New Year’s Eve amateur night crowd. They were a great audience to play for, and wanted to see a show. This was a fun night, but I’m making no resolutions.

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