(Editor's note: This is the first installment of "Dobie's Diary", a slice-of-life blog by Milwaukee native Dobie Maxwell. Dobie is a nationally touring standup comedian who has opened for Jay Leno, Jerry Seinfeld, Drew Carey, Jeff Foxworthy and many others. He is now a headlining his own shows around North America and also teaches a comedy class and speaks to corporations about the healing powers of humor. Dobie's Diary will provide a behind-the-scenes glimpse into life as a standup comedian. Maxwell's Web site is www.dobie.com.
Sunday, July 2, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
What a night! This has been a really fun week, but tonight was the best show of them all. This is Canada Day weekend, which is the birthday of Canada just like July 4 is America’s birthday. I didn’t know that until I got here, and was prepared for a week of sheer death.
The week of July 4 is traditionally one of the two slower weeks of the year in American clubs, the other one being Christmas week. It’s just a given and many places don’t even do shows on those weeks. Canada Day is July 1 and it fell on a Saturday this year, so everyone is off of work on Monday. I thought for sure it would be like a mausoleum at the club all this weekend.
Boy, was I wrong. The joint was packed tonight and the crowd was ready to rock. I felt it when I walked in the place and that feeling is never wrong. There is an electricity in the air that can’t be put into words. The audience is usually talking and in a good mood and there is a buzz that translates into a powerhouse comedy show. Comedy is so much better live if that energy is there and everyone benefits from it. The comedians love it, the audience gets a better show and I bet the waitstaff even gets better tips per person after a show like this.
I had them from the first 10 seconds and didn’t let up. My character in Canada needs to be Mr. Lucky, who is the bumbling American who can’t figure out the metric system or the local customs or Canadian money so I’m the butt of the jokes. They love that and I’m OK with giving it to them. I can still do my regular show but adding the layer of me being the stooge is like rocket fuel. Too many American things of all kinds ignore Canadians totally and they aren’t thrilled about it and I can see why. Just giving them their ‘props’ is enough to make them some of the best audiences I’ve ever worked for. Tonight was one of them.
Shows like this are why I wanted to become a comedian. I was totally in sync with them and I could feel the energy build throughout the show. There is a silence that happens in a show like this that’s wonderful. Normally silence and comedy shows don’t go together, but when it’s going well there is a silence that means they are listening to every word. There is a BIG difference between that kind of silence and the silence of an audience not laughing.
This was the good silence and I had it. I also had big pops of laughter between it, which made the silence that much better. I wish I would have recorded this show and if I brought CDs this week I would have sold out for sure. This sure ended the week with a bang.
After the show, Jack, the owner, came up to me and said "Man, you were really good this week but THIS was in another world." It really was. Then, he asked me if I would like to come back and work New Year’s Eve. I was very flattered. That’s the biggest week for a club and it’s an honor to be asked to do it, so I said yes. I don’t know what the money will be, but I’m sure it will be OK. These people are very fair and I enjoyed working here a lot.
The key to success in comedy is not getting booked. That’s not all that difficult. Success is getting booked BACK. That’s how to start building fans. It doesn’t always happen, but I have been booked back here before I even leave town. It doesn‘t get any better than that.
Saturday, July 1, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
OK, so I’m not crazy after all. This entire week I’ve been hearing what has sounded like a man screaming at the top of his lungs outside my hotel room window. I’m up on the fourth floor of the Travelodge, way in the back of the hotel away from everybody, but I hear it.
Comedians get the hotel rooms with no view of anything a paying customer might want to see. We’re in the very back with a view of a restaurant dumpster that smells like rotting meat or a landfill / toxic waste dump filled with used syringes and asbestos. That’s how it is.
It’s because our rooms are usually a trade-out with the comedy club and the hotel, so we get the same one each week in every town. It’s also usually across from the maid’s break room so we can hear nice loud mariachi music blaring through the hallway starting at 6 a.m.
There is a parking lot outside my window, and the back of a strip mall is across from it. At various times throughout this week, I’ve heard these blood curdling shrieks and when I looked out to see if I could find out who was getting murdered, I didn’t see anyone. I think I know what a scream sounds like, but there was nobody there. I really thought I was nuts.
It’s not very comforting to be in a foreign country and hear screams in the hotel parking lot. Once is alarming enough, but several times a day is a little scary. I might have expected it if I was in Mexico or Haiti or Cuba, but I thought Canadians were pretty laid back, eh?
I started hearing the screams again this morning and I was determined to find out where they were coming from. If there was an axe murderer in town, I wanted to be the one who turned him in and got the reward money. I’m not making that much at the club this week.
I looked out my window and finally found the source. It was a little greasy-looking dude in his 40s, dressed in sweat pants and a karate top practicing his martial arts moves down in the parking lot. He would get all psyched up and do his stretch moves and then let out his big yelp and karate chop on an imaginary opponent. It was mesmerizing.
Time after time, he’d do it again and really get into it. He had long scraggly hair under an old ball cap and had about a five-day growth of beard and I can’t imagine anyone trying to rob this guy as he walked down the street, but apparently he wanted to protect himself just in case. He would bow to an imaginary person and then do the same thing over again.
It was really funny to watch clerks come out from the back of the strip mall to smoke. I watched him walk away when they came out and then come back when they went in and it must have happened ten times. For whatever reason, he picked this as his training area and wouldn’t let anything stop him from doing it. I was fully entertained for about a half hour.
Finally he bowed for the last time and I didn’t see or hear him again. I can’t believe other guests didn’t hear him because he was so loud, but apparently nobody complained. I have seen a lot of goofy things during my days on the road, but not like this. Jackie Chan eat your heart out.
Friday, June 30, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
I was up and outside early today. It was time to see the town. I’ve seen enough of this and many other hotel rooms, so a change of scenery would be refreshing. After a breakfast buffet at the hotel and a stop for directions at the front desk, I headed out and toward downtown.
The downtown area is just a couple of miles past the mall I stopped at yesterday and it was a gorgeous day, so I just started walking in that direction until a bus came and there is also a train that I had an option to take if that came first. The weather was so nice and the exercise was so needed, that I just kept walking until I got to downtown, about six miles. I don’t remember the last time I walked that far and it felt good to work up a sweat. Sweat is unfortunately what attracts mosquitoes and the ones here are the nastiest I’ve ever seen. They must have thought I was a mobile buffet because I got attacked by a whole squadron of the hungriest ones in Canada. My legs look like a soccer ball and can be read in Braille.
Calgary Tower is a tourist attraction downtown. It’s a city landmark very similar to the Space Needle in Seattle or the Arch in St. Louis or the John Hancock Tower in Chicago. I always try to experience these things because they are lifetime memories. The price of the attraction fades but the memory lasts forever. I can still picture going up in the Arch and the Space Needle and I don’t remember what it cost at the time. Today’s damage, $13.50.
I walked around downtown and just observed the people and the sights and enjoyed the beautiful weather. I could feel the flavor of being in a different country and soaked it in. It is good to get a different perspective once in a while and this week has been great for that.
Coming home, I took the train I heard about from the hotel clerk. It cost $2.25 and came close to the hotel and was well worth the cost. When I got off the train, I noticed there was a sushi restaurant, so I went in so see how that works here. Sushi in Canada doesn’t sound like something they’re known for, especially since we’re nowhere close to an ocean. What should I expect to get, a fish head on a cracker? I was in a daring mood, so I gave it a shot.
I’m really glad I did. My waitress was WAY hot. She looked like Alyssa Milano and she seemed to spend an extra amount of time making sure I had everything I needed. It almost seemed like she was hitting on me, and I liked it. As it turns out she was from Quebec and just moved here and didn’t think she spoke English very well and was insecure about that.
It’s amazing what people are insecure about. She was so good looking her little bit of a French accent just added to it. I found out later at the comedy club that she may have been hitting on me as it’s romantic to many of them to hook up with an American. That’s where it all happens and they want to be around it and if they have to marry someone to get them there they’ll do it. Hmmm... nice to know that. Looks like I’ll be having sushi again soon.
I’m really glad I didn’t just mope around the hotel and waste the day. Many comics find that easy to do and I’ve done it myself. These little mini- adventures are what makes life on the road so great. The shows tonight were really fun too. The people here get it for sure.
Thursday, June 29, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
Time is starting to drag this week. I’m stuck in the hotel without a car and I don‘t know a soul in town. Usually, I know someone and can go have lunch or visit a museum or place of interest, but I don’t know anyone or anywhere to visit here. I’m sure there are some fun things to do, but I don’t know what they are. I’m not only not from this town, I’m not from this country either. It’s fun to visit a new place but it’s a lot more fun to have a tour guide.
It’s getting a little old flipping through the cable channels and seeing someone speaking French or a soccer highlight. There are a few American channels like A & E but no ESPN or HBO and there just aren’t that many videos I need to see on MuchMusic, their version of MTV. I’ve made the TV rounds enough times to know I can use something else to do.
I took a nice long walk to the mall today and that was about three miles each way. Then I went to get a haircut and of course I got the crabby old bag rather than any one of a few younger ladies who worked there. I don’t know why I don’t get the cute one, but I don’t.
I came back to the hotel to check my e-mail. I am on the 800 number and it costs $6 an hour so I try to be online as sparingly as possible. That’s another reason I’m bored out of my mind. One e-mail was from a woman named Melanie I met a while back at a show. She is a real sweetheart and we hit it off. We are the same age and she is left handed and very artistic and creative, plus she’s great-looking, too. We dated a few times and had a lot of fun. She lives in Michigan, but right over the border so it’s about 100 miles from Chicago.
When I would come through Michigan we’d have lunch or dinner and hang out and just enjoy each other’s company. She had some major problems with her son, who was giving her fits. He was a delinquent and always getting into trouble with the law. It was a major source of heartache for her as was her ex-husband who didn‘t treat her very well, either.
Sometimes, I wouldn’t hear from her for a while and it was because of the problems with her son. Then we’d get together and it would be fine and then he would do something and she would be out of touch again. I am on the road a lot and it actually worked out OK. She said she wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, but that she really enjoyed my company.
Today, out of the blue, she sends me an e-mail saying how she is now engaged and in the process of moving in with the guy and how happy she is and hopes that we can still be friends and how she wants to bring him out to see one of my shows. WHAT? Why does it keep happening like this? Am I missing something? Am I a social leper? I just don’t get it.
I hadn’t heard from her in awhile, but this one really hit me hard. I like her a lot and we got along great and I guess I believed her when she told me about her son. Maybe it’s true or maybe it’s just something wrong with me somewhere. Whatever it is, it really stings and it’s even worse being marooned in a strange country with all day to think about it. Tonight, was another hot audience and I put all my positive energy into giving them a good show. I was the only one who knew how important it was to hear those laughs. I really needed it.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006 - Calgary, Alberta
The joke was on me tonight. I’m working at The Comedy Cave which is located right in the Travelodge hotel where I’m staying. I saw the sign when I showed up yesterday, but other than that I know surprisingly little about the club itself. How long has it been here? I don’t know. Is it a good place to work? How are the audiences? I haven‘t the foggiest.
I had never been here before yesterday and never met or seen any pictures of the people I’m working for. That’s probably not very good business, but that’s how comedy works. I got recommended by my friend, Dennis Ross, who is a comedian out of New Jersey. He did this gig a few months ago and gave the manager my name and that guy sent me an e-mail.
I made a business deal with a guy who sent me an e-mail and nothing else. He expected me to travel over 1600 miles and promised to pay me if I showed up. And I did. He didn‘t even say how many shows I would be doing, only that I needed to be here from Tuesday through Sunday for a flat fee. For all I know, he could have me standing outside with a big cardboard sign that says "Will tell jokes for food." Now, I’m stuck here for a whole week.
There are no contracts except his e-mail, and I didn’t even save that. I just showed up and am hoping for the best. There really is a stupid amount of risk to both parties here. I didn‘t get or send a confirmation e-mail since we made the deal three months ago. This is all a big crapshoot and the more I think about it, the more I wonder how I‘ve done it for 20 years.
If I explained how a comedian gets booked to anybody in the real world of business with a third grade education or higher, they’d probably say I was insane. Now that I think about it, I think they’re right. I am in another country at my own expense and don’t have any idea who I’m working for or if I’ll get paid or even if there will be a club when I show up.
Thankfully, there was a club when I showed up at 30 minutes early for an 8 p.m. show. It was open for business and there were people sitting in the seats waiting for a show. I introduced myself to the bartender and then walked to the rear of the club where an unusually stern looking man asked me ‘Are you Mr. Maxwell?’ I said I was and without cracking a smile he said "Please sit down Mr. Maxwell. I need to talk to you about a very serious matter."
Uh, oh.
He explained that he was with the Canadian Immigration Bureau and needed to see my paperwork if I indeed was intending to work at the club this week. I told him I didn’t have any paperwork and he immediately asked me how I made it past the airport security check point and this would not be an easy problem to solve, since I had an opportunity to tell the truth but I chose to disregard Canadian rules and that meant I would be up for a big fine.
Not once did his eyes leave mine and he barely blinked as he got meaner and meaner in disposition. He kept asking questions like how long I intended to be in Canada and who I spoke to at the airport and I thought I was in big trouble. This went on for several minutes and then there was a period of uncomfortable silence. Then he flashed a wide grin and said "My name is Jack and I own the club. Welcome to Calgary. GOTCHA!" He certainly did.
Monday, June 26, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
It was travel day today, and a long one. Wake up time 5 a.m. I wrote a rent check, because I’ll be gone on the 1st and dug out my passport and airline ticket and double-checked for the trip.
I was all scrubbed and packed and headed out to catch a cab to the train station which would take me to the airport and it was pouring rain. I walked soaked one block to Clark Street but there was a cab there within 30 seconds. That’s a great part about Chicago.
The driver was super nice. He’s from Iraq and gave me a real insight as to what’s really going on over there. He has been here 25 years but still has lots of family over there and is in touch with them constantly. He went on and on how this is the land of opportunity and how he has built a wonderful life for himself and his family over here and is now a citizen.
It was a learning experience to hear about what it was like to grow up over there and he was just so grateful to be here and it was contagious. It made me very thankful for what I have and his enthusiasm and positivity radiated off of him. My tip made his eyes light up.
I made it to the airport on time and I had to fly to Salt Lake City to catch the connector to Calgary. Of course I had the middle seat and sat between a middle eastern guy with the smallest bladder in town who smelled like a diaper full of three week old curry chicken and a rugged hairy outdoorsman type who gassed up on cocktails the whole way and wore one of the rankest colognes I’ve smelled in a long time. It was like two weather fronts fighting it out in my nose and I expected it to start raining something hideous at any time. The guy with the small bladder was of course by the window so every few minutes we had to both get up and let him out but at least the foul odor on one side subsided for a few minutes.
I had a three hour wait in Salt Lake City and used it to nail down a date at Wiseguys in the fall and call a bunch of friends so it was productive. I was waiting in line to get on the plane and there was a gigantic woman at the counter asking questions. I said to the guy next to me ‘Wow, that is one enormous rump. Who will have to squeeze next to THAT?’ The guy said ‘I will. That’s my wife.’ I thought he was kidding but then she waddled over and got in line right between us. I could feel myself turn bright red with embarrassment.
I prayed I’d not get a middle seat on the flight to Calgary and I didn’t. It was in the very back row on the aisle right across from the dumper. The front toilet was out of order so it meant that everyone on the plane had to use the one right next to me and that meant I had every ass of every passenger in my face as I tried to read my paper. When one finished and opened the door it made the smell of the first flight seem like a stroll through Eden. It was a continuous line for the entire two hour flight. That was my punishment for my remark.
We landed at about 10 p.m. I rented a car and headed to the hotel where the room I was assigned to wasn’t made up yet. It took way too long for the trainee clerk to find a clean one and then the elevator was broken so I hauled my stuff up four flights of stairs. This is why I don’t like to work on travel days. I was really tired and glad there was no show.
Sunday, July 2, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
What a night! This has been a really fun week, but tonight was the best show of them all. This is Canada Day weekend, which is the birthday of Canada just like July 4 is America’s birthday. I didn’t know that until I got here, and was prepared for a week of sheer death.
The week of July 4 is traditionally one of the two slower weeks of the year in American clubs, the other one being Christmas week. It’s just a given and many places don’t even do shows on those weeks. Canada Day is July 1 and it fell on a Saturday this year, so everyone is off of work on Monday. I thought for sure it would be like a mausoleum at the club all this weekend.
Boy, was I wrong. The joint was packed tonight and the crowd was ready to rock. I felt it when I walked in the place and that feeling is never wrong. There is an electricity in the air that can’t be put into words. The audience is usually talking and in a good mood and there is a buzz that translates into a powerhouse comedy show. Comedy is so much better live if that energy is there and everyone benefits from it. The comedians love it, the audience gets a better show and I bet the waitstaff even gets better tips per person after a show like this.
I had them from the first 10 seconds and didn’t let up. My character in Canada needs to be Mr. Lucky, who is the bumbling American who can’t figure out the metric system or the local customs or Canadian money so I’m the butt of the jokes. They love that and I’m OK with giving it to them. I can still do my regular show but adding the layer of me being the stooge is like rocket fuel. Too many American things of all kinds ignore Canadians totally and they aren’t thrilled about it and I can see why. Just giving them their ‘props’ is enough to make them some of the best audiences I’ve ever worked for. Tonight was one of them.
Shows like this are why I wanted to become a comedian. I was totally in sync with them and I could feel the energy build throughout the show. There is a silence that happens in a show like this that’s wonderful. Normally silence and comedy shows don’t go together, but when it’s going well there is a silence that means they are listening to every word. There is a BIG difference between that kind of silence and the silence of an audience not laughing.
This was the good silence and I had it. I also had big pops of laughter between it, which made the silence that much better. I wish I would have recorded this show and if I brought CDs this week I would have sold out for sure. This sure ended the week with a bang.
After the show, Jack, the owner, came up to me and said "Man, you were really good this week but THIS was in another world." It really was. Then, he asked me if I would like to come back and work New Year’s Eve. I was very flattered. That’s the biggest week for a club and it’s an honor to be asked to do it, so I said yes. I don’t know what the money will be, but I’m sure it will be OK. These people are very fair and I enjoyed working here a lot.
The key to success in comedy is not getting booked. That’s not all that difficult. Success is getting booked BACK. That’s how to start building fans. It doesn’t always happen, but I have been booked back here before I even leave town. It doesn‘t get any better than that.
Saturday, July 1, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
OK, so I’m not crazy after all. This entire week I’ve been hearing what has sounded like a man screaming at the top of his lungs outside my hotel room window. I’m up on the fourth floor of the Travelodge, way in the back of the hotel away from everybody, but I hear it.
Comedians get the hotel rooms with no view of anything a paying customer might want to see. We’re in the very back with a view of a restaurant dumpster that smells like rotting meat or a landfill / toxic waste dump filled with used syringes and asbestos. That’s how it is.
It’s because our rooms are usually a trade-out with the comedy club and the hotel, so we get the same one each week in every town. It’s also usually across from the maid’s break room so we can hear nice loud mariachi music blaring through the hallway starting at 6 a.m.
There is a parking lot outside my window, and the back of a strip mall is across from it. At various times throughout this week, I’ve heard these blood curdling shrieks and when I looked out to see if I could find out who was getting murdered, I didn’t see anyone. I think I know what a scream sounds like, but there was nobody there. I really thought I was nuts.
It’s not very comforting to be in a foreign country and hear screams in the hotel parking lot. Once is alarming enough, but several times a day is a little scary. I might have expected it if I was in Mexico or Haiti or Cuba, but I thought Canadians were pretty laid back, eh?
I started hearing the screams again this morning and I was determined to find out where they were coming from. If there was an axe murderer in town, I wanted to be the one who turned him in and got the reward money. I’m not making that much at the club this week.
I looked out my window and finally found the source. It was a little greasy-looking dude in his 40s, dressed in sweat pants and a karate top practicing his martial arts moves down in the parking lot. He would get all psyched up and do his stretch moves and then let out his big yelp and karate chop on an imaginary opponent. It was mesmerizing.
Time after time, he’d do it again and really get into it. He had long scraggly hair under an old ball cap and had about a five-day growth of beard and I can’t imagine anyone trying to rob this guy as he walked down the street, but apparently he wanted to protect himself just in case. He would bow to an imaginary person and then do the same thing over again.
It was really funny to watch clerks come out from the back of the strip mall to smoke. I watched him walk away when they came out and then come back when they went in and it must have happened ten times. For whatever reason, he picked this as his training area and wouldn’t let anything stop him from doing it. I was fully entertained for about a half hour.
Finally he bowed for the last time and I didn’t see or hear him again. I can’t believe other guests didn’t hear him because he was so loud, but apparently nobody complained. I have seen a lot of goofy things during my days on the road, but not like this. Jackie Chan eat your heart out.
Friday, June 30, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
I was up and outside early today. It was time to see the town. I’ve seen enough of this and many other hotel rooms, so a change of scenery would be refreshing. After a breakfast buffet at the hotel and a stop for directions at the front desk, I headed out and toward downtown.
The downtown area is just a couple of miles past the mall I stopped at yesterday and it was a gorgeous day, so I just started walking in that direction until a bus came and there is also a train that I had an option to take if that came first. The weather was so nice and the exercise was so needed, that I just kept walking until I got to downtown, about six miles. I don’t remember the last time I walked that far and it felt good to work up a sweat. Sweat is unfortunately what attracts mosquitoes and the ones here are the nastiest I’ve ever seen. They must have thought I was a mobile buffet because I got attacked by a whole squadron of the hungriest ones in Canada. My legs look like a soccer ball and can be read in Braille.
Calgary Tower is a tourist attraction downtown. It’s a city landmark very similar to the Space Needle in Seattle or the Arch in St. Louis or the John Hancock Tower in Chicago. I always try to experience these things because they are lifetime memories. The price of the attraction fades but the memory lasts forever. I can still picture going up in the Arch and the Space Needle and I don’t remember what it cost at the time. Today’s damage, $13.50.
I walked around downtown and just observed the people and the sights and enjoyed the beautiful weather. I could feel the flavor of being in a different country and soaked it in. It is good to get a different perspective once in a while and this week has been great for that.
Coming home, I took the train I heard about from the hotel clerk. It cost $2.25 and came close to the hotel and was well worth the cost. When I got off the train, I noticed there was a sushi restaurant, so I went in so see how that works here. Sushi in Canada doesn’t sound like something they’re known for, especially since we’re nowhere close to an ocean. What should I expect to get, a fish head on a cracker? I was in a daring mood, so I gave it a shot.
I’m really glad I did. My waitress was WAY hot. She looked like Alyssa Milano and she seemed to spend an extra amount of time making sure I had everything I needed. It almost seemed like she was hitting on me, and I liked it. As it turns out she was from Quebec and just moved here and didn’t think she spoke English very well and was insecure about that.
It’s amazing what people are insecure about. She was so good looking her little bit of a French accent just added to it. I found out later at the comedy club that she may have been hitting on me as it’s romantic to many of them to hook up with an American. That’s where it all happens and they want to be around it and if they have to marry someone to get them there they’ll do it. Hmmm... nice to know that. Looks like I’ll be having sushi again soon.
I’m really glad I didn’t just mope around the hotel and waste the day. Many comics find that easy to do and I’ve done it myself. These little mini- adventures are what makes life on the road so great. The shows tonight were really fun too. The people here get it for sure.
Thursday, June 29, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
Time is starting to drag this week. I’m stuck in the hotel without a car and I don‘t know a soul in town. Usually, I know someone and can go have lunch or visit a museum or place of interest, but I don’t know anyone or anywhere to visit here. I’m sure there are some fun things to do, but I don’t know what they are. I’m not only not from this town, I’m not from this country either. It’s fun to visit a new place but it’s a lot more fun to have a tour guide.
It’s getting a little old flipping through the cable channels and seeing someone speaking French or a soccer highlight. There are a few American channels like A & E but no ESPN or HBO and there just aren’t that many videos I need to see on MuchMusic, their version of MTV. I’ve made the TV rounds enough times to know I can use something else to do.
I took a nice long walk to the mall today and that was about three miles each way. Then I went to get a haircut and of course I got the crabby old bag rather than any one of a few younger ladies who worked there. I don’t know why I don’t get the cute one, but I don’t.
I came back to the hotel to check my e-mail. I am on the 800 number and it costs $6 an hour so I try to be online as sparingly as possible. That’s another reason I’m bored out of my mind. One e-mail was from a woman named Melanie I met a while back at a show. She is a real sweetheart and we hit it off. We are the same age and she is left handed and very artistic and creative, plus she’s great-looking, too. We dated a few times and had a lot of fun. She lives in Michigan, but right over the border so it’s about 100 miles from Chicago.
When I would come through Michigan we’d have lunch or dinner and hang out and just enjoy each other’s company. She had some major problems with her son, who was giving her fits. He was a delinquent and always getting into trouble with the law. It was a major source of heartache for her as was her ex-husband who didn‘t treat her very well, either.
Sometimes, I wouldn’t hear from her for a while and it was because of the problems with her son. Then we’d get together and it would be fine and then he would do something and she would be out of touch again. I am on the road a lot and it actually worked out OK. She said she wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, but that she really enjoyed my company.
Today, out of the blue, she sends me an e-mail saying how she is now engaged and in the process of moving in with the guy and how happy she is and hopes that we can still be friends and how she wants to bring him out to see one of my shows. WHAT? Why does it keep happening like this? Am I missing something? Am I a social leper? I just don’t get it.
I hadn’t heard from her in awhile, but this one really hit me hard. I like her a lot and we got along great and I guess I believed her when she told me about her son. Maybe it’s true or maybe it’s just something wrong with me somewhere. Whatever it is, it really stings and it’s even worse being marooned in a strange country with all day to think about it. Tonight, was another hot audience and I put all my positive energy into giving them a good show. I was the only one who knew how important it was to hear those laughs. I really needed it.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006 - Calgary, Alberta
The joke was on me tonight. I’m working at The Comedy Cave which is located right in the Travelodge hotel where I’m staying. I saw the sign when I showed up yesterday, but other than that I know surprisingly little about the club itself. How long has it been here? I don’t know. Is it a good place to work? How are the audiences? I haven‘t the foggiest.
I had never been here before yesterday and never met or seen any pictures of the people I’m working for. That’s probably not very good business, but that’s how comedy works. I got recommended by my friend, Dennis Ross, who is a comedian out of New Jersey. He did this gig a few months ago and gave the manager my name and that guy sent me an e-mail.
I made a business deal with a guy who sent me an e-mail and nothing else. He expected me to travel over 1600 miles and promised to pay me if I showed up. And I did. He didn‘t even say how many shows I would be doing, only that I needed to be here from Tuesday through Sunday for a flat fee. For all I know, he could have me standing outside with a big cardboard sign that says "Will tell jokes for food." Now, I’m stuck here for a whole week.
There are no contracts except his e-mail, and I didn’t even save that. I just showed up and am hoping for the best. There really is a stupid amount of risk to both parties here. I didn‘t get or send a confirmation e-mail since we made the deal three months ago. This is all a big crapshoot and the more I think about it, the more I wonder how I‘ve done it for 20 years.
If I explained how a comedian gets booked to anybody in the real world of business with a third grade education or higher, they’d probably say I was insane. Now that I think about it, I think they’re right. I am in another country at my own expense and don’t have any idea who I’m working for or if I’ll get paid or even if there will be a club when I show up.
Thankfully, there was a club when I showed up at 30 minutes early for an 8 p.m. show. It was open for business and there were people sitting in the seats waiting for a show. I introduced myself to the bartender and then walked to the rear of the club where an unusually stern looking man asked me ‘Are you Mr. Maxwell?’ I said I was and without cracking a smile he said "Please sit down Mr. Maxwell. I need to talk to you about a very serious matter."
Uh, oh.
He explained that he was with the Canadian Immigration Bureau and needed to see my paperwork if I indeed was intending to work at the club this week. I told him I didn’t have any paperwork and he immediately asked me how I made it past the airport security check point and this would not be an easy problem to solve, since I had an opportunity to tell the truth but I chose to disregard Canadian rules and that meant I would be up for a big fine.
Not once did his eyes leave mine and he barely blinked as he got meaner and meaner in disposition. He kept asking questions like how long I intended to be in Canada and who I spoke to at the airport and I thought I was in big trouble. This went on for several minutes and then there was a period of uncomfortable silence. Then he flashed a wide grin and said "My name is Jack and I own the club. Welcome to Calgary. GOTCHA!" He certainly did.
Monday, June 26, 2006 -- Calgary, Alberta
It was travel day today, and a long one. Wake up time 5 a.m. I wrote a rent check, because I’ll be gone on the 1st and dug out my passport and airline ticket and double-checked for the trip.
I was all scrubbed and packed and headed out to catch a cab to the train station which would take me to the airport and it was pouring rain. I walked soaked one block to Clark Street but there was a cab there within 30 seconds. That’s a great part about Chicago.
The driver was super nice. He’s from Iraq and gave me a real insight as to what’s really going on over there. He has been here 25 years but still has lots of family over there and is in touch with them constantly. He went on and on how this is the land of opportunity and how he has built a wonderful life for himself and his family over here and is now a citizen.
It was a learning experience to hear about what it was like to grow up over there and he was just so grateful to be here and it was contagious. It made me very thankful for what I have and his enthusiasm and positivity radiated off of him. My tip made his eyes light up.
I made it to the airport on time and I had to fly to Salt Lake City to catch the connector to Calgary. Of course I had the middle seat and sat between a middle eastern guy with the smallest bladder in town who smelled like a diaper full of three week old curry chicken and a rugged hairy outdoorsman type who gassed up on cocktails the whole way and wore one of the rankest colognes I’ve smelled in a long time. It was like two weather fronts fighting it out in my nose and I expected it to start raining something hideous at any time. The guy with the small bladder was of course by the window so every few minutes we had to both get up and let him out but at least the foul odor on one side subsided for a few minutes.
I had a three hour wait in Salt Lake City and used it to nail down a date at Wiseguys in the fall and call a bunch of friends so it was productive. I was waiting in line to get on the plane and there was a gigantic woman at the counter asking questions. I said to the guy next to me ‘Wow, that is one enormous rump. Who will have to squeeze next to THAT?’ The guy said ‘I will. That’s my wife.’ I thought he was kidding but then she waddled over and got in line right between us. I could feel myself turn bright red with embarrassment.
I prayed I’d not get a middle seat on the flight to Calgary and I didn’t. It was in the very back row on the aisle right across from the dumper. The front toilet was out of order so it meant that everyone on the plane had to use the one right next to me and that meant I had every ass of every passenger in my face as I tried to read my paper. When one finished and opened the door it made the smell of the first flight seem like a stroll through Eden. It was a continuous line for the entire two hour flight. That was my punishment for my remark.
We landed at about 10 p.m. I rented a car and headed to the hotel where the room I was assigned to wasn’t made up yet. It took way too long for the trainee clerk to find a clean one and then the elevator was broken so I hauled my stuff up four flights of stairs. This is why I don’t like to work on travel days. I was really tired and glad there was no show.
