Last Thursday, comedian Bob Marley performed a free stand-up set at the Brooks Student Center in Gorham. I caught up with him afterwards to talk a little about leaving Los Angeles, remembering Maine college life, and not being able to get into his own shows.
How often do you try to make it to USM?
I come, gosh, it seems like once a year now. It depends on where I live, like when I lived in LA I didn’t come much. But I always try to do it, cause you know, it’s USM, it’s Portland, I’m from here.
Do you perform at many colleges?
Colleges, I like to do ’em, when I first started — oh gosh, I would do like 40 or 50 a year. And then when I moved to LA I stopped doing ’em all together.
It’s weird because I’m 41. I don’t feel like I disconnect with them, because I never made my set about being, you know, an older person. I just make it about whatever’s funny.
I still feel like I connect with them. Some guys get to a point where they’re doing a lot of political stuff, and they can’t connect with the audience as much.
Have you ever done political material?
Some. The only political joke I’m doing right now is, I say people can’t decide if they want to elect a woman or a black guy. I think we can solve the whole problem, we just have to get Rupaul to run.
I just do goofy stuff. I try not to get preachy or anything. There’s nothing wrong with that, but the biggest mistake you can make with an audience is if they don’t believe you, you’re screwed.
Fortunately for me, they believe me as a goofy, dumb white guy.
One who’s back living in Maine.
Yeah. I lived here when I started, then I was in Boston for two years, then LA for 11. I moved back almost three years ago. I’m still working a lot out there, I go out next month for a show on E! and one on CBS.
And I’m doing a sequel to Boondock Saints this summer.
So I go back and forth. I don’t do as much road work because I’ve got three kids, but I’ve been pretty lucky. It’s a wicked crapshoot.
Does your act change a lot when you go out of state?
Oh yeah, some things, but not everything. Anything that’s super-specific about Maine you can’t do.
That’s a big question, people are like “how do you work anywhere else?” And I’m like, well, I’ve got 13 CDs, there’s probably 11 and a half hours of stuff. Every album has 15- 20 minutes about Maine, and the rest is stuff I can do anywhere.
It’s just that when I’m in Maine, I really try to put my finger on the pulse of all the folks here. It’s fun. It’s like joking around with your family.
And you went to UMaine Farmington?
Yeah, ’92, health major. Community health education (laughs) — so now I’ve been a comedian for 17 years.
I did it my junior year in college and just kept going. I started in the spring, and I was doing it pretty much every week in my senior year.
I would drive from Farmington to Boston and do shows down there — I was always crankin’.
I showed up at Orono one night and went to go into the show room, and the guy at the door was like “hey, the show’s not open yet.” And I went, “hey, I’m the comedian.”
He didn’t believe me. So I went into the hallway and just sat down. Thirty minutes after the show was supposed to begin, he finally comes over, “so you’re really the comedian, aren’t you?”
What were some of your comedy idols back in college?
I loved the old guys — Buddy Hacket, Don Rickles. Guys like Seinfeld and stuff, they were just coming up through at the time. And now I’ve met most all those guys, you know.
The thing I like about comedians is that they’re accessible and approachable, they’re not like rock stars and actors.
An actor could be a waiter the day before, and then he could audition for a part and be huge in six months.
For a comedian, there’s no way that’s gonna happen. Ninety-nine percent of them are so humble, because you take such a beating on the way up through.
Do you still take a beating?
Yeah, you still have shows that are awful.
I did a show about a year ago for General Electric, and it paid really well, and I was like “oh, this’ll be fun.” So I get down there in the room, and I start going — and there’s nothing.
I started laughing at one point because there was no way all of this could miss. So I finally get to look out at the crowd — and they’re all Japanese. Not Japanese-Americans, but from Japan, and none of them spoke a lick of English.
I stopped the whole show, I said “who booked me?”
This lady raised her hand. I asked, “did you see a tape of me?” She says “yeah.” And I’m like, “was I juggling?”