Gig: Americans Talk About Their Jobs Part 23

Yesterday we signed a contract for CyberSlacker. It's a licensing deal for sixteen new episodes, each three to five minutes long. They're going to be on the Internet. The idea is that people are going to come and look at this proprietary content and then buy merchandise related to the content-like T-shirts, coffee mugs, and toy stuffed cats that burp up hairb.a.l.l.s-and we'll get a nice percentage of that.

I'm hoping this is gonna be the first of many deals. We want to go to Hollywood and make a cartoon series for television. We want the big deals. One of the new projects that we have in the works is our second cartoon series. It's called The Princ.i.p.al's Office. And it's a cartoon series for kids. It's basically about-every episode is a kid describing why he wasn't in school, why he ditched school the day before or why he was absent. And so he's telling the princ.i.p.al, you know, the equivalent of "the dog ate my homework" or something. And the princ.i.p.al just sits there and listens to the excuse and then at the very end excuses him or her. It's for kids, you know? So right now we're making-just like with CyberSlacker-the pilot episode. And we're showing it to people.

I'm really into doing cartoons. These days, most of my ideas for content are cartoon ideas. Because they're fairly easy to make-you don't have to go get actors and s.h.i.t-and, you know, cartoons-you can just do wild stuff and raunchy stuff. You can go crazy. Whatever you think of, you can make happen.

I like raunch. That's part of my thing. [Laughs] It even gets me in trouble sometimes. We did a game called Dog Run and sold it to a game network, and when they got to the third level and saw the dalmatian humping the mutt they got upset and they decided that they weren't going to put it up. So now I'm trying to buy it back from them. But whatever-that happens. You know? It's not that I'm trying to make entertainment for the lowest common denominators, it's just that those kind of jokes sometimes are funny. Sometimes what's funny is grotesque. Like what's funny about Beavis and b.u.t.thead and what's funny about South Park are the disgusting jokes. And that seems to be what people like-low-brow humor. So you end up with a joke where you have a cat digging through a trash can and coming up with a b.l.o.o.d.y tampon and people going, oh, my G.o.d, you know? But they're laughing. They get it.

The goal is that the shows get popular and everyone wants to put 'em on TV. That's all. I'm in it to make my stuff and for people to see it and laugh. I work on the Web right now, but I'm not loyal to the Web or anything. I don't really give a s.h.i.t about the Web. I just want as many people to see my cartoons as possible. And so if that means being on television and not being on the Web, that's fine. I don't care how they see it. Just so that it hits as many eyeb.a.l.l.s as possible and people enjoy it and laugh.

I'm going to be rich. [Laughs] I don't have to worry about that. It's all paper money at this point, but if I keep building the company and our revenues keep doubling and doubling-you know, last year we made fifty grand, this year we made a half a million, next year we'll make two million, the next year ten million, the next year fifty million. And then I'll sell the company, buy my house in Hollywood and buy my house in New York and marry some poor Jewish schlock who'll raise my children and life will be great. [Laughs] That's all I really want, you know.

I have knives. I have lighters. I have

cookie jars shaped like little dogs. I have

ducks. I have salt and pepper shakers.

CARNIVAL WORKER.

Juanita.

I work for Carousel Amus.e.m.e.nts, out of Ocala, Florida. Our slogan is "Not the largest, but one of the finest." That's the slogan for the carnival.

We're just a little family show. You have the Cobra over here. You have the 2000 Odyssey ride over there. Out there you have the largest slide in the United States. Then we have the Dragonwagon over there. It's got a face of a dragon, okay? Then we have the Scrambler and all the kiddie rides here. You have the wheel-the Ferris wheel. You have the merry-go-round. Ours is probably about fortysix years old and look how beautiful it is. We're proud of it. Very proud of it. And that's my husband over there. He has the guns.

My game's called the Bulldozers. That's what I run. You drop a quarter in, the Bulldozer pushes money and sometimes gifts out of the hole down there. What falls out is yours. I have knives. I have lighters. I have cookie jars shaped like little dogs. I have ducks. I have salt and pepper shakers. I have candles. I have mirrors, I have buffalo, I have Indian gifts. I have all different types of toys. I have a moose. I have teddy bears. I have lions. And when kids comes up they always get stuff. If somebody comes up, they get somethin'. Because I'm not goin' to let n.o.body leave without nothing.

Are you gettin' me? I talk very fast and very Southern. [Laughs] Southern people talks fast. Except people from Mississippi and Alabama. They talk slow. It takes 'em about a minute to get a sentence out. But they are nice people. Very nice people.

The show's up from Tuesday until Sat.u.r.day. Sat.u.r.day night at twelve we shut down and then we tear everything down. That's when the boys get dirty. They have grease and everything on 'em. They tear it down, they're up all night long Sat.u.r.day night, we move Sunday, we get to the next spot Sunday or Monday, and then we set up and start all over again. We have a schedule and we have signed contracts and we have to move from one town to another town.

And they're always nice towns. Seven, eight thousand people. We just played Williamsburg, Kentucky. Next week we're going into Harrisburg. From Harrisburg we're goin' into Winchester. And from Winchester we're goin' back into Corbin. And then from Corbin I don't know exactly yet where we're jumpin' into. Crossville, Tennessee? Lot of 'em's just a little bitty spot on the road, like here.

I work four or five hours a day-if you call it work. All I do is I have a bucket full of quarters. People comes and asks for change, and I give it to 'em. That's all I do. Do you call this work? I make twenty percent of what I take in here. I do pretty good. Yes. I've reached two thousand dollars a night in this game. Yes, I have. And it's not hard work. What's hard is the tearing down. But I don't do that. The boys do.

I work for my nephew, Michael Parks, and his sister, Shirley. And him and her owns this show. They're both very nice. They're honest people. Very honest. Their daddy brought 'em up that a way. Miss Kitty, their mother, she makes cotton candy, candy apples, hot dogs, popcorn, lemonade, and drinks. Because the people that wants to come to the carnival, they want that cotton candy and them candy apples. See, a carnival, that's what they's known for, cotton candy.

I don't know about other shows. I know how this show is. Everybody here is very nice. This is a family-owned show. They raise their children here. It's a Christian-we try to live for the Lord here. We're very honest. It's just good people here. It's just like a big family. One gets sick, we all see to 'em. One's in trouble, we're all there. There's no drinkin'. No drugs. When you get hired that's one thing that you don't do. That's the first thing they tell you. No dope. If Michael finds any dope or anybody smokin' it he fires 'em right now. What you do away from the show, that's your business. But while you're here and you live here, that's everybody's business. So you have good people out here. Friends out here. Very good friends. Seein' things, seein' people.

You meet a lot of interesting people doing this. And that's my favorite, favorite, favorite part of the job, is meetin' the people. You have a lot of sweet people. You have a lot of very nasty people, too. The teenagers is horrible. Yes, they are. You have-I have kids comin' in here and tryin' to steal out of here. They stick straws up in the machine. They stick wire up in it. They just don't care about theirself or n.o.body else. And that's hard for me to say. It hurts. Because I know that they gonna rule this country. Teenagers is-they're bad. When I was that age, if I'd have said things that I've heard these people say-the filthy talk. Horrible, filthy talk.

They just come up and say-excuse my language-"b.i.t.c.h, can I have a dollar's worth of quarters?" Or, "You white honky b.i.t.c.h." They come out with the F-word. I guess they think that we're filth and they can say and do what they want to do. But we're not! The kids here on this show, you don't hear them talk that way. Because their mother and father will spank 'em. You don't see them dressed filthy and dirty. You don't see 'em stealing. These kids dresses nice. And they call us "carnies"? No.

We're show people. Show people. "Carney" comes from the word "carn." You know what "carn" is, don't you? It's something that has been dead layin' beside the road. And a dog will go roll in it or it's somethin' the buzzards will pick up. You say something smells "carnie." How would it make you feel if somebody said, "Your book stinks. It's filthy. I don't like your book." And you know, you put your heart and soul in it. See, just like you work from nine to five, we work from five to twelve at night. This is our job.

And we bring fun to the people. For a lot of these towns, this is the biggest thing that happens to 'em. We've been hittin' lots of these little spots for ten, twelve, fifteen years. And every year you git the same players, and they come and they play every year. You see 'em come out with their families. We have a lot of older people comes out, families with kids. They get the welfare checks, Social Security checks. And they have saved their money up all year waitin' for this to come. Because they know a good show. They know a honest show.

We've been around a long time. But business isn't as good as it used to be. It's fadin' out. I think it's-I think it'll fade out. The big shows'll keep on. This is a business now. It's a big business. I mean, there are some very big shows out there. Shows with a hundred workers. Haven't you ever been at a county fair where they've just got rows and rows and rows?

But we're just a little family show here. And shows like us, they'll fade out one of these days. Yeah, they will. Let's hope not, but you know, I can remember-I'm sure you can, too, your own hometown- you can remember little stores there, little businesses there that ain't there no more because the bigger business come by and put 'em out. And that's what's happening in the world today. It's pitiful. Everything changes. My mother's seen things that I'll never see. I've seen things that you'll never see. And you'll see things that your young'uns will never see. And that's the way the world does.

I just do my job and go on. And I pray we'll be able to hang in there. Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Because we've got somethin' on our side that a lot of people don't have. We've got the Lord on our side. He takes care of us.

And this is fun for us. This is really honestly fun. I do miss my hometown. And I miss my church. I miss my church quite a lot. But maybe the Lord needs me to come out here. Whenever we do somethin' the Lord directs us and leads us. So he led us here for a reason. Why? I don't know. But it's fun out here. I'll never retire. You should try it. Try it for a season. See how you like it.

You are shooting a lot. You are killing

a lot.

VIDEO GAME DESIGNER.

Chad Findley.

I started making computer games when I was ten years old. My dad had a small PC business-before PCs were a real business-and I had these Commodore 64s, VIC 20s, Apple IIs, really small, stupid things that I used to make silly versions of, like that Spy Hunter game. I made a Marvel Madness game. I'd be sitting in my room in high school, and my friends would be there playing these things I'd made, but I never thought it would be a job. I didn't even think it could be a job. It ends up now I'm doing multimillion-dollar games, lead designing stuff.

I was just lucky. I went to MIT, took a lot of science and liked it, but what I really wanted was to be an actor. So when I graduated, I decided to I try that. I came out here to L.A. and, of course, it didn't work out right away and I found myself needing something that made money. And a friend of mine who was working for Activision said they needed a designer for Mech Warrior 2, which is a huge PC game. I couldn't let that one pa.s.s. I called up, got an interview. My background at MIT definitely helped but, honestly, most of the people that are in this just really want to do it. A lot of them don't even graduate from college, they're self-taught and go the whole way. The kind of stuff I was doing when I was a kid was the best preparation I could have had because, making the games myself, I'd learned how to do pretty much everything.

I first worked on Mech Warrior 2 and then did an add-on pack to that-Ghost Bear's Legacy. An add-on is just like more levels of the game, more places to go, an extension of the story. You have to have the original game to play it, and as a designer you have to work within the structure of that original game, but in a way, it's kind of liberating because you can really focus on the details-the way the game plays. And that add-on was probably the funnest thing I've ever done. It took two and a half months, was very low budget, and we just had a great time. It was such a small team and all of us really dug the design we were working with. We put hundred-hour weeks into it, sleeping at the office a lot, and I was like a kid again, you know? It was just a joy to work on. And then everybody was impressed with what came out. It got touted as one of the best add-ons ever and all this kind of c.r.a.p that really makes you feel good when you're reading a game magazine. And it sold three hundred thousand units, which the company loved. We were all golden boys for a while.

Then I did the Apocalypse game with Bruce Willis. And that was a very mixed experience. On the one hand, it was great because it was such a big project. Activision said, "We need a game that will sell a million units. We got Bruce Willis, we're gonna work with Playstation and go flashy as h.e.l.l." And we did a lot of cool things, like motion-capture Bruce Willis as he ran around shooting and then we cyberscanned him in so it looks just like him in the game. He's in these cut scenes-these little mini-movies we throw in as transitions between every bit of play. So, like, you just finished killing the last bad guy on this part of the street. Now you get a really close view of Bruce as the helicopters come swinging around, hovering in front of you, firing off their missiles. You have Bruce say something like, "Holy s.h.i.t, I've got to get out of here!" Which is kind of cool-we were able to say, "s.h.i.t" and "d.a.m.n" and that kind of Bruce Willis esque stuff. And then you snap right back to the game play, you're into the next level, and you're kind of charged to start going again.

Making those movies was really exciting, and, you know, I had more responsibility on the project than I'd ever had before, which was also very cool. It was a budget in the millions and I wrote the lead design doc.u.ment, which is basically what the game is based on. It lays out the story, the control structure, what the levels are like, and what the general progression for a level should be. So you start off, the helicopter attacks, you shoot it and so on. The whole game comes out of that doc.u.ment and I got a lot of help with it, but I wrote it. It was the most control and responsibility I'd ever had and it was thrilling. But after it was over, I had to supervise a lot of the production, which sucked. Because when I first got into games, you're making stuff and you get to read cool reviews about it and you get phone calls from fans going, "I love that part where you blow up a building and everybody dies!" And now, I'm walking around, "How's this going? Are you getting this done? I need this by Friday." It got old.

I was twenty-five when I started working on Apocalypse and I just wasn't used to doing management. And it kind of turned into an ordeal. I worked on it for two years. There were a lot of problems that went on. Mostly due to the budget and stuff. It ended up costing a lot of money.

At one point, Activision fired half the people I was working with, then we kept going for about a month and then they transferred all but a few people off the game, so there was four of us left trying to finish it and redo a lot of stuff. They were trying to control costs, I guess, but it just wasn't the right thing to do. And it didn't work. They finally said, "Let's take the game externally, rather than work on it anymore here." They farmed it out to another company and so I quit. I walked. Took some time off and thought about what I wanted to do next. But then the company they'd given it to asked me to come work for them. And I agreed and I got to finish Apocalypse and it's selling pretty well, actually. It's gotten really good reviews. They said this was the first time that a big star came and did a game and it worked well.

So, I think that's kind of a vindication and, in the end, I'm really happy about Apocalypse even though it was such a struggle. And I'm staying with this new company. I like it here. In five years, I'll probably still be doing the same thing, lead designing games. You can get further, you can become a producer and have more power, get more money. But I'm making plenty now and I don't want to go too high up because I've found that that's how you lose control over how the game actually is. You don't get to make the actual levels, you know? I only really made one level on Apocalypse and that wasn't enough. I want to do more of the real stuff-making that jump that's just long enough so you know the player is going to be sweating every time. I'd rather just go back and try and be an actor again than totally lose control.

The company I work for now, it's a pretty small company. We just do development of games. We don't actually sell the game afterwards. My old company Activision does that for us. They're kinda like our client-they have to like the game we make, which means usually they pick the topic. Like the one I'm doing now is a Spiderman game. They picked it and we said okay, and then, from there, we make it. They give us the main idea, they distribute it, we do the fun stuff.

And because it's a small company, I get to do a little bit of everything. I'm a lead designer and I do some management, but I also get to lay out the levels. I'm still involved in the basics of designing these things. Like with Spiderman, I'm just kinda figuring out what Spidey does. Like maybe he crawls around security cameras and gets into Kingpin's lair and fights Scorpion and has to figure out how to beat him by luring him near the electrical equipment and then he has to smash it with his tail and he gets electrocuted, you know? I had thousands and thousands of comics when I grew up. I know this world. And if you can think of it, you can almost always find some way to get that in the game somehow. The trick is just that you gotta make it hard enough to be challenging, but not too hard to exclude people who aren't hardcore gamers. And you have to do everything you can to keep the momentum going constantly. And hopefully you do those two things right, and it looks cool, then people go, "Wow!" And then they skip cla.s.s, wet their pants, the whole nine yards.

Even after doing this like a maniac for four years, I still enjoy making games, and I still enjoy playing them. It may not be quite the same love it was when I started. I'm not staying after work playing eight-player Doom head-to-head with everybody all night long yelling and screaming. But it's still very fun for me. And it's so cool. Like we get to put secret messages and stuff in the games. The Ghost Bear one, for instance, we had a bunch of secret areas you could go to. And with Apocalypse, I built a mini-version of Activision's offices inside the game. So if you blow open this one window and jump in, you can kill all the people who worked on the game-including me. That was fun. And we'll be doing secret stuff for Spidey, too, I'm sure. And it's so great when you get feedback that the gamers found this stuff and really liked it.

But you've got to be careful, especially if you're working with like Bruce Willis. You can't make him naked for a frame. We all had this joke: "Let's have him turn into Demi Moore!" [Laughs] But obviously we couldn't do that. And with licensed stuff, like Spiderman coming through Marvel, we've got to be careful that we don't have him doing anything that's "unseemly." You know, he's not going to kill people, he's not going to go get drunk and puke on Mary Jane. You can still have fun, but it has to be in ways that aren't too offensive.

I mean, everybody puts these secret things in, but if you go too far and you get caught, it's very bad. You heard about the Disney thing? The Rescuers has two frames of a naked woman in the window? I saw the clip. You actually can see the naked lady in there. They had to recall hundreds of thousands of units of the movie. I don't think they found out who did that, because it was too long ago when it happened. But I know other people who've been found out doing stuff like that, and they lose their job and they don't work again. Especially with big companies like Disney. So you have to be careful. You have to "suck up to the man." [Laughs] But so what?

This is a dream job for me. It's the best job in the world. It doesn't change the world for the better, but it's at least giving people some enjoyment for a couple of hours a day. And it's only going to get bigger in the future. Five years from now a lot more people are going to have games. You're going to have the game system just built into your television. The Playstation is pretty close to that now and Web TV is starting with that direction, too. So many more people are going to have games. Which means the audience is gonna get much broader. It already sort of is that way. When I started in this, we were all geeks who played games, so you could make games for geeks. Now you have to make games that have big action stars in them, or have cool music-like the Beastie Boys might be in one of the games. Something that really draws in a large crowd.

It's really and truly a ma.s.s media. I'm four years into it now. I'm a pretty seasoned veteran and every game I've worked on has either been a huge game or has made a lot of money. Mech Warrior sold easily over a million units. Apocalypse, it's going to be somewhere between five hundred thousand and a million units. And to be able to reach that many people is great. I mean, I know video games get criticized a lot. One of my friends from high school is a teacher now. And we're pretty much archenemies. I'm his ultimate bad guy, and he's my ultimate curse. I'm all for education but I'm also for entertainment. I'm for a balanced life, you know? And these things are really entertaining. People love them and it's such a great feeling to make something that people love.

There's definitely a violent aspect of it all. You are shooting a lot. You are killing a lot. But, that's kind of obviously the point, right? And it's more than that, too. Like this one level I designed-the city level for Apocalypse-it starts off, you jump down, helicopters drop in and you keep running forward. A building falls down, you jump an overpa.s.s. A helicopter flies by, blows out part of the street that you have to jump over and then there's some hover taxis sitting there, so you jump on the back of one, and it starts flying through the city. You're on the back of this thing, it crashes to the ground, blows up. You keep going, a big tank blows up through a side of a building with its flamethrowers blasting. There's guys shooting at you the entire time. But it's not just about killing. I mean, it is partly killing. I freely admit that. But it's also something more. It's an experience. It's a release. Players go, "That is the coolest f.u.c.king thing I have ever f.u.c.king seen in my life!" And that's just the greatest thing, you're watching someone play and you see their eyes get wide. "Wow!" They're hurting their thumb playing the game. It's very good to see.

And you know what? I grew up playing these games day and night, and I don't have a violent bone in my body. It's more your environment than the games you play. I think a lot of people get their aggression out playing a game. They'll buy one and be able to beat the c.r.a.p out of someone and go, "That felt good. I'm done." And I think that's great. I like it when people are spent after playing the game for a while. Just because they got into it so much or they tried so hard so many times to pa.s.s a certain level. They're totally spent and they're totally happy. I love that.

I'm pretty well-known-but as a

journeyman.

COMEDIAN.

Bruce Mickelson.

When I was a kid, I did all the school plays, talent shows, and stuff. I always wanted to be a comedian, but I didn't have the b.a.l.l.s to go out and do it. I mean, I did some banquets and parties, but just as a side gig. I really thought I should get a family going and all that-the "American Dream" thing. So I did. After college, I went into the service, then I worked for IBM in marketing. I got married. But then, you know, I wasn't contented. It took me a while, but I finally figured out what I wanted to do, which was get back to comedy.

The story, basically, is that my first wife and I were living in L.A. This was about 1978. We'd just moved out there and I'd got a new job working for a marketing firm and I was pretty miserable. So she said, "Why don't you try comedy again?" So I went to the Comedy Store one night. Monday nights they had open-mic. And I stood in line, got up there, and did five minutes. The owner of the Comedy Store, Mitzi Sh.o.r.e, told me to come back the next week. I did another five minutes, and she said, "You're a regular here." I was like, "Oh boy!"

Mitzi also had a club in Westwood. All the "new meat" would work there. It was a wild place. Pauly Sh.o.r.e cooked hamburgers, he was about fourteen. He used to spit in the hamburgers! [Laughs] I started with a lot of people who became big stars-Sam Kinison, Louie Anderson, Andrew Dice Clay-I saw a lot of those acts born.

Sam Kinison was a preacher when he came to the Comedy Store. He was doing the same thing that I was doing, going on at two in the morning-three, four people in the audience. c.o.ked up. It would get frustrating because n.o.body would listen and n.o.body would laugh. You'd stand there and hear this silence, people talking. One day he went ape-s.h.i.t-started screaming like a wild man-and his act was born! Six weeks later, Penny Marshall saw him, and he took off.

And Andrew Dice Clay-he was Andy Silverstein then! One time, I remember, I gave him a ride to La Jolla. Mitzi had a club there. Neither of us were doing anything, basically, except these clubs. So I drove him down. He said to me, "You know, I'm going to be the biggest star in this business." I said, "Sure, Andy." [Laughs]

So, I've seen all those people make the big time, and I'm still in Double A ball-Vegas. What happened was, I was working steady at the Comedy Store for nine years, but I work real different. I do a whole mini-play. I don't do joke, setup, joke, punchline. And I wasn't taking off, you know? My act was just a little too unusual. So one night a producer saw me and said, "Would you like to do Las Vegas for a couple of weeks?" I said, "Yeah, sure." I was divorced by then, and I wasn't feeling too hot about anything. So I came to Vegas. That was nine years ago and I've been here ever since.

I work in the hotels here. I've worked just about every hotel in town. I'm pretty well-known-but as a journeyman. They need someone to fill in for someone, or an opening act, they usually call me. Like, tonight, I'm at the Folies Bergere. I'm at the Golden Nugget a lot.

What I do is called a production show. You have a certain amount of time-eighteen minutes, fourteen minutes, twelve minutes-and you tailor your act to fit that time slot. You also have to work semi-clean. There's a code the entertainment directors will tell you. "Clean" means you can say "a.s.s" or "p.i.s.s," and that's about it. The comedy clubs here in town, they're over the top, they let them go pretty far. But they're different crowds. These production shows are families-moms and dads, older folks. They find swearing abhorrent. That's just the way society is. But it's hard to be funny clean. [Laughs] "f.u.c.k" is a great punchline!

So I developed this act, "Big John, the Barbecuing Texan." It started when I was doing a cabaret show back in 1991 with an entirely different act, and the producer of that show was about to launch this thing called "Country Tonight" and he said, "Come up with a country thing so I can use you when I need you." So I built this thing-Big John. And it took off. It works, people like him. So that's what I do. The same show, pretty much, every night, tailored slightly depending on how much time they give me. It's just the way it happened.

I travel very seldom. Most of my work is here in Vegas. If I go out of town, it's like Biloxi, Atlantic City, the usual. Mostly hotels. I don't do that many comedy clubs anymore, even here in Vegas, because it's just a younger venue. Not that I'm afraid of it or anything, it's just a whole different milieu. I have my niche with the production shows. For a lot of the young guys who were schooled in comedy clubs, their whole routine is built around "s.h.i.t, c.u.n.t, f.u.c.k," you know? And like I said, the people that come into the hotels don't want to hear that stuff. So it's hard to find young performers to fill in for these things. So there's me, and there's guys like Dave Swan, who's in his sixties, Golden Joe-he's also in his sixties. I'm fifty-one. We fill this niche. That's not to say I'm not still waiting for that big break.

A lot of people think if you work Vegas, you're a hack. I think it's a little more complicated than that. The thing I've noticed is that when you work Vegas, you're getting an audience of people from everywhere-the Midwest, the East, South, out of the country. So you have to find that common denominator to make it work. A lot of really good comedians come here and they just can't pull it off. And the other thing about it is the energy levels of the audience are just- pfft! You've got to really work to get them to have a good time, which can be frustrating, especially since you have to do the same routine every day, which gives you a tic. So I think it's not so much hack work as it's a challenge. And it's reasonable pay. And it's steady-I work six days a week, two shows a night, two shows a day, all year round.

And, you know, performing stand-up is a high you can't get anywhere else. When it works, regardless of where you do it, it's just amazing. Everybody in our society wants that fifteen minutes of fame thing. To be in front of a crowd of people that you don't know and get them to come with you, to laugh, that's a great feeling. Some people try to do it with booze, some people do it with c.o.ke, or whatever. I just found that performing does it for me. It's like, Robin Williams, a lot of people ask me, "Gee, how come Robin Williams goes to clubs at night?" Jay Leno goes, too. These are big stars, what do they need it for? Well, man, they've got to get that juice. They can't get it anywhere else. You can't get it in a movie. You have to be a stand-up performer, there's nothing like it. You're alone. You don't know these people, they don't know you unless you're a star, and that wears off fast if you're not funny. You've got to work them, grab them, bring them into your world. When it works, it's fabulous. But most of us die, too, so there's a lot of pain. The pain and the joy-you can't find it anywhere else. I'd do it for free. [Laughs] Maybe.

The thing is, I'm not sure how long this gig is gonna last. Vegas is definitely an entertainment city. It used to be an old wh.o.r.e, and now they're trying to make it a family town. It's all shiny and new all of a sudden. Huge, spectacular production shows are the thing of the future, smaller shows like mine-I doubt they will last. The megaresorts have to have the Cirque Du Soleils, the Siegfried and Roys.

It makes me stop and think. I've got to start preparing for the future, you know? I'm at the age now where I've got to either find character work-slip into a sitcom somewhere, be the goofy next-door neighbor-or I'll be on the road the rest of my life. I've worked on cruise ships, that's an option. Because it's steady work and it's good money, but you get lost in the seas. n.o.body knows where the h.e.l.l you are. You get out of the loop. I'm just hoping that doesn't have to happen, you know? That I can maintain my sanity until I hit it. That's what keeps me going.

I work here every day and I make four or five hundred people laugh, so I know something's working. But, unfortunately, the producers don't walk in and go, "Hey! Come and audition for me!" Those days are done. You've got to put a tape together, get pictures, call people. "I'm working Vegas." "Oh, yeah." "Can I come and audition?" "Sure." And then you fly into L.A. for thirty-nine bucks, sit in a room. You walk in, go through the whole litany of your life and then you do the audition, and then you fly back. Then you find out that you wasted your time.

You've got to find a powerful agent. Somebody with pull. I don't have one. I do it all myself. So, that's my next step. I have a pretty good reputation in town, so hopefully I can build off of that. I don't want to do this Big John thing the rest of my life. I'd rather walk in front of a bus!

Honestly, though, I can't see myself doing anything else. Especially now-it's been too long. Corporate America isn't gonna take me back. Sometimes I lay in bed at night going, "Maybe I should have stayed with IBM." Pension, all the perks. Being independent, the benefits aren't there. You've got to take care of yourself. And most performers are goofy, so they never think about it until it's too late.

I've been thinking all these things, now that I'm in my fifties, but Dangerfield didn't make it until he was almost in his sixties. That's what keeps you going. You know, the dream. It's kind of silly sometimes, you're sitting going [makes j.a.c.k.-.o.f.f. motion with hand] and talking about your dreams. [Laughs] It's a tough business, unless you've got whatever it is they want.

Some guys are real hustlers, always pushing. Trying to get themselves in to somewhere. Some of us are like me, just kind of, whatever. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn't, it doesn't. I kind of miss the days when there used to be a circuit, you know? Like the Borscht Belt. You studied your craft. There was steps, there was a process to be a comic. You started out in New York in the small clubs. You went to the Borscht Belt. You got an opening act in Vegas. Thirty years ago, if I was working here, I'd be making about ten thousand a week. I heard Jackie Green used to make forty thousand a week in a lounge, a free show. [Laughs] That whole era is gone. I was right on the cusp of the old guys and the new guys, so I have a little bit of both. I still get to talk to some of the old guys in town, in their seventies and eighties, still going to Friars' Clubs, still [old man voice] "I was somebody..."

I have fears of that. I worry about myself at night. That I'll end up on Hollywood Boulevard going [raspy voice], "Hi there, you remember me? I was in Vegas." The real hard thing is I see all these guys coming into town that I came up with. Louie, Andrew Dice- and they're working the big room and I'm still [makes j.a.c.k.-.o.f.f. motion]. But that's the business. You survive it, or you don't.

I miss the old days, where the performers were somebody. You'd walk in, "Hey, howya doing? Sit down, don't worry about it." And they'd comp you for this, they'd comp you for that. You'd walk up to the showroom, the maitre d' would go, "Hey, come on in." Now it's, "Do you have a voucher?" Ahh. I was right on the cusp of where it started to turn. I was performing and having a great time. The showgirls were beautiful, and you'd take them in the back. And now it's nice little kids everywhere. No more c.o.ke and showgirls. But it was great. They really treated you well. Now it's just you're anonymous. But everything changes, that's life, isn't it? I used to read the newspaper every day. No longer.

I've seen the whole change. I'm a little scared. I mean, in ten years, I wanna be somewhere. Have a nice home, have made some kind of mark in this business. That may not happen, but so be it, you know? Until then, I will just keep trying. You use all those positive things: "The cream will rise to the top." Or, "If the act works, it's got to work everywhere." Or, "You'll get the audition that you're perfect for." That's all you can do. Just hope. That's the way it is.

Look at Jesus Christ-he's still going

strong after two thousand years.

Who's to say that Elvis won't last two

thousand years?