Dobie Maxwell's 'Dented Can' Diary: Where's Allen Funt?

Saturday April 26^th, 2014 – Island Lake, IL

This was the Saturday off I didn’t know I had until two days ago, and I chose to shut my mouth and just work through it. Complaining about it isn’t going to change anything, and it’s more than just one lost gig that’s the problem. It took years to get to this point, and I am really in a corner.

I didn’t choose the safe route in life – if there even is one. What I chose was the adventure trail, and that’s exactly what I got. There were a few thrills along the way, but I trusted everything that I had always read about “do what you love and the money will come” and “everyone with talent will eventually get their shot.” I’m losing hope about all of that faster than the Cubs lose games.

It just floors me how nice people get crapped on time and time again. It’s not just me, and I see it so much it makes my gag reflex go off. How about at least a LITTLE break for the people that have kind souls? I’m just not seeing it anywhere, and it sure makes me question life’s existence.

The whole God thing is a very sore spot with me. We all want to have one, just like as children we all wanted a Santa. I have to believe even Jews and Muslim kids were up for a guy that brings them free toys. What kid wouldn’t love that? Then we find out it’s all a lie, and it’s devastating.

I am seeing the whole God vs. “The Devil” scenario the same way. I used to believe there was a God and I hoped to go to “heaven” after I died. Then one day – just like my grandpa predicted I would – I woke up and realized it was a bigger made up tale than Santa. But I wasn’t devastated.

It just makes me wonder, why all this huge potential on such a beautiful planet filled with such monkeys but most never gets fulfilled? It might make sense someday, but I don’t think it will for the living. If there is indeed a “next life” – and I’m having severe doubts – I guess we’ll find out.

The latest example that makes me scratch my head is a friend of mine that is a former comedy student. I can’t think of a more gentle soul, and I know a lot of people. He has always supported me and said kind words at every opportunity. He loves comedy, and just enjoys being around it.

I won’t mention his name because I don’t want to get him in trouble, but he’s going through an absolutely hellacious divorce and isn’t allowed to see his son. It’s ripping him up, and I can’t see how this happens to such a laid back nice guy. If anything, he should be asked to talk to the sons of countless scoundrel fathers who never get the time of day from their old man. They need him.

And don’t get me started on women liking “bad boys”. The last woman I really cared for threw me aside like a bag of lawn clippings for some greasy maggot that will cheat on her without any guilt. He told her he would, yet she fell for him anyway. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t lived it.

And I know it’s not just me. It goes on all the time everywhere, and I’m begging for some kind of relief. Prove to me there is a God and all of this is just a big joke. At the end of our life we get taken to a big room and St. Peter looks mysteriously like Allen Funt, and all our friends are there to greet us. I said I wasn’t going to complain, but I guess I did. Oh well, nobody hears it anyway.