Wild Bill's Respose to "The Twelve"
Dearest “Twelve”,
To begin, I must say I doubt there are really twelve of you.
Rather, I suspect there is but one sad person with maybe twelve separate and
distinct personalities. Why else would everyone always be on time for the
meetings? I am also surprised that in your national coalition of bookers,
comics, and club owners, you were only able to come up with twelve people.
When I received your hateful letter, one of the first things I did was make a
list of people who have reason to dislike me. In the Twin Cities alone I
was able to come up with at least 26! In fact, I think I might have a
bigger enemies list than Nixon did. If you would like me to share this
list with you, in hopes of adding members to your organization, please send me
another anonymous letter requesting it, along with a stamped self-addressed
envelope.
Secondly, I take issue with the statement that some of “the
Twelve” call yourselves comedians. A real comedian will ALWAYS try to
sneak a joke in somewhere – that’s our nature. Yet, there is not a
single laugh in your entire letter. Maybe “the Twelve” should recruit
a joke writer.
I will proceed with honesty. I have made many, many
mistakes in my life. Some of them have cost me dearly. Some have
damaged my relationships with people. Some have hurt my career.
I’ve never claimed to be infallible. However, when I do make a mistake,
I do try to admit it, and to right some of the wrongs. One mistake you
mentioned was my interview with Colin Covert of the StarTribune on my re-write
of "Carpool." I made a mistake in that interview, and I admitted
it - to the producers of the movie, to Tom Arnold, and even to Colin.
Colin was doing his job; I would NEVER hold that against him.
Also, I DO blame myself for the demise of the Minnesota
Comedy Club. I needed to forgive people and move on and I didn't. I
was wrong.
You call me a “comedy enforcer”. Call me what you
will, but I will not, however, stop going to bat for younger comedians;
comedians who are forced to wait weeks for their checks. Checks sent by
those who would themselves throw a fit if they did not receive their payment for
a performance immediately. Nor, will I stop judging the dubious ethics of
certain people in our group. Young comics need to be given the
opportunities that we ourselves were given. These are comics who started
after the Comedy Boom we enjoyed. They work twice as hard to prove
themselves and create their own unique voices. They are the future of our
industry. They should never be exploited or taken advantage of just
because they want to find stage time in a market where it is a valuable
commodity. We should be nurturing these talents, not burning through them.
I try to help out as many as I can by using them as opening acts, and by helping
them learn the craft and the trade that we had to learn for ourselves. I
do this for two reasons. First, I do it for the love of comedy. My second
reason I’ll admit is self-serving. I know I’m getting older, and that
the young comics I try to nurture today may someday return the favor, when they
are the bookers, club owners and people in power in this industry. My
career was helped out by many generous people, who were helped out by others,
who were helped out by others. However, your contempt for the future of
comedy will someday leave you alone, bitter and out of work. As they say,
“the Bigger they are, the harder they fall”.
I realize that I would be hypocritical to call you a gutless
weasel for not signing your name to the letter, for I too have sent another
comedian an anonymous letter. Twenty-five years ago I wrote a short note
to George Miller, the comedians’ comedian. I won't bore you with the
contents, just the opening line. It read, "You don't know me, but you
are my hero..." I was thrilled to later become his friend and I cried
all day when I heard that he’d died.
I think I know who you are. While you tried to hide
your identity, even going so far as to make sure you mailed the letter from out
of town, you must be crazy to think that you are truly anonymous. In fact,
the fingerprints you left all over that vicious letter couldn’t have been more
obvious if they’d been left in barbeque sauce. The letter speaks of too
much history that too few would be privy to. Speaking of privies, I think
that is where I shall keep your letter. There, it might someday serve a
useful purpose.
If you are who I think you are, you have no right to ever
call anyone else a thief. You have stolen from everybody. Enron
executives would be amazed by your sheer audacity.
If you sold cemetery lots you would come home at night with dirt in your
pockets and a “new” watch on your wrist.
You are also a notorious liar. My mantra is:
"don't lie on your resume and don't lie to the press." My resume
is posted on my website. I stand by it. I can understand that I
might not have much to show for my 25 national television appearances, but I
think those appearances are something to show in themselves. In fact,
sometime next week I will update my resume. I have neglected the writing part of
my career, and virtually ignored my acting credits. Don’t take this to
mean that I think I’m Laurence Olivier. I’ll be the first to admit
that with my acting skills, I’ve seen chimps that could out-act me.
Your resume on the other hand is mostly fantasy and an
exaggeration of your true accomplishments. I'm probably wrong (it wouldn't be
the first time), but I do believe that my deceased cat, Toogie, has more
national credits than you do. This is not a joke! Toogie had three
big scenes in “976-EVIL”, and was seen in the opening credits to that
movie’s sequel.
Looking back, I probably should have taken some acting lessons from
that cat.
I am utterly at a loss regarding your claim that one of my
friends has stolen a joke. I just plain don't know what you are talking
about. Please clue me in. Most of my friends are very proud of their
originality, and would drop a joke in a heartbeat if they knew that someone else
was even doing something remotely close to something they have written.
The quality of the rest of their writing refutes your claim. They strive
to be different. So, if you think one of my friends is really doing a joke
that someone else does or has done, please let me know the joke. My
friends would thank me for telling them.
I can argue with my friends and still remain friends with
them. It is called discussion. Sometimes, an argument gets out of
hand and things are said that are hurtful and need to be retracted. I have
made such remarks AND paid for them. In full. I am still friends with Dean
Johnson because I begged for his forgiveness. The same can be said about
Rox Tarrant. Rox
has accepted my apology. I meant every word of those,
my mea culpa was sincere. I know that I have insulted you. Make no
mistake though, I meant every word. I will never retract a single word.
Ever. Because, through your childish hate letter, you have shown me that
you are not my friend. I used to give you the benefit of the doubt.
Once again, I made a mistake.
On the whole, I am not a religious man, but I'd be willing to
bet that unless you spend the rest of your life working in a leper colony,
there’s a pretty strong chance that you’re going to Hell. If your
beliefs are Eastern, your next life will likely be spent as a cockroach (if
you’re lucky).
Finally, I must admit you were right about one thing:
fear me, fear the truth and fear the light. Please continue to hide in the
dark and make your attacks. You have zero credibility because of all the
lies you told in your letter. Here's some advice: be truthful in your
initial assault. Save the lies for round two, that way they will be more
believable.
Many years ago, before I quit drinking, I sent a tape to a
comedy show in New York. Weeks later, I received a phone call from the
producer asking me to be on the show. I was stunned.
I called back and said I couldn't afford to go out. Another
return call yielded a week’s work in New York, more then enough to pay for my
trip, plus the check from the show. Well, I gave in to my
fears, drank up my travel money and blew the whole thing off.
Later, I sobered up and straightened out. One
of my first acts was to call the producer and apologize. He accepted and
gave my other things, but every time he did, he'd smile and say, "You're
going to be there, right?" I've told that story at many meetings and
after one, a gentlemen approached me and said,
"You're not giving yourself enough credit. At
least you sent in the tape." Please, your jealousy of me is palpable. Get
off your butt and send in your tape.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to hit
the privy. Your letter is just begging for my “attention”.
Sincerely,
Wild Bill Bauer