When I was just a young scrapper my Grandma told me to go see a movie. The movie was called “American Splendor.” I said, “OK Grandma, I’ll go,” but she could tell I was just saying that to please her. So she put $10 in my hand and said, “Promise me you will only use this money to go and see American Splendor.”

PS: Can you believe that’s Judah Friedlander?

With that kind of guilt put upon me, I had to go. I went with my friend Dave and the movie blew me away. I felt this strong, almost cosmic connection to Harvey Pekar (the subject of the film). I felt I was like him and I wanted to be him. He was my new hero. He made shit happen for himself and didn’t wait for opportunity to be handed to him. He was a freethinker, outspoken, controversial at times, but also just a regular guy. I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

I went to see it again with another friend in N.Y. and then again with my cousin in Glasgow a few months later (movies take a minute to get overseas). I knew Harvey was a very special guy, even more than the movie was letting on. I was filled with inspiration. Soon after I Googled myself and one listing that showed up for Danny Lobell was the horse. There is a racehorse named after me. Some distant relative raises racehorses and got hold of the Lobell family tree. He named all his horses after Lobells. The horse named Danny Lobell had tied a race with a horse named American Splendor. I saw this as a huge sign. I needed to meet Harvey Pekar.

I thought back to the film and remembered how Harvey had mentioned how much he loved seeing himself in the phone book. I knew he’d still be there. I looked him up and sure enough, there he was. I remember as I called him for the first time my heart was racing and my mouth went dry. What was I going to say to this great writer when he answered the phone? I didn’t want to sound like a star stuck fanboy.

I had no idea what to say but then he answered and we talked for what I think was close to two hours. I told him about seeing the movie and what it meant to me. I told him how I saw it again in Scotland with my cousin and my cousin didn’t really get it and that made me mad. Then he asked me a bunch about Scotland and about my dreams of being a great comedian. I told him how I had submitted my writing to different comedy websites and publications and never heard back. I told him how I used to write and illustrate my own comic books in grade school and then photocopy them and sell them to classmates, and I wished that I could do it again with my comedy writing in a way like he did. Then he told me I can and that if I don’t, it’s on me. I asked how and he said find a way, if you want to do, it you can do it. That’s how we left off and that was my calling that I had to do it. I couldn’t disappoint Harvey. I resolved not to call him again until I had got it going.

The Comical, a magazine for comedians to have a voice and write articles, jokes, and be interviewed was born. I called Harvey to tell him and he offered me some of his lesser-seen comics to put in my magazine. I couldn’t have been more honored. Issue No. 1 of The Comical featured an interview with Dave Attell and a comic by Harvey Pekar proudly advertised on the cover. For the next three years I went on to produce nine more issues, all with Harvey’s comics in them and all the while with his support and advice. During this time Harvey and I spent many hours on the phone. I told him how I had tried to get an interview with Woody Allen for a cover. Even though it didn’t work out, Woody had taken a liking to me enough to let me start attending and listening to him play jazz clarinet at the Carlyle Hotel every Monday night. Harvey told me if I liked Woody’s stuff, I should check out Sydney Buchet and Benny Goodman. It was the first of many times Harvey educated me on the wonderful world of jazz. I really don’t know how I could have gotten through these last few years without jazz.

Through the magazine I met Jackie Mason. We became good friends and are on-and-off good friends to this day (currently on, but when he reads this off again). Jackie called me up one day and asked me if I liked Georgy Carlin. “George Carlin!” I replied very excitedly, “I love him!” “Calm the fuck down,” replied Jackie. He told me to go to his Broadway show that night. Carlin was going to be in the audience. After the show, Jackie said he would introduce us backstage and it could be a way for me to get an interview for The Comical. That night I met George and another great friendship was born. Sadly I only knew him for the last two years of his life. George changed the way I thought about life, comedy, writing, and art.

When George died I was no longer doing the magazine. I called Harvey and we talked for ages. Harvey was a big Lenny Bruce fan. He even wrote a book about Lenny, which has been tied up in its publishing, but I hope it comes out now already. When George died I felt beside myself. He would talk to me on the phone and tell me stories of his days playing in the West Village and the long subway rides home back to Harlem if he’d had a bad set. It was a magical time in my life and I needed to talk with someone about it in order for the grieving process to allow me to heal. I got in touch with George’s brother Patrick and we have been friends ever since. In fact, this Wednesday Patrick and I are doing a show together in the Lower East Side. Pat is going to perform some of the stuff he’s been writing since George died.

Harvey was the first big guest I had on my radio show and he pushed me throughout these times. He helped me open the doors for myself to have such an interesting life. We talked once a month about what I was up to and what projects he was up to (check out the Harvey Pekar Project). The last long conversation I had with him, which was a two weeks ago, he was particularly more talkative than usual. He told me he was losing faith in Israel and he’s got a few new things in the works. He told me if you like Goodman, check out Artie Shaw. He said Shaw was great but had too much of an ego and turned people off him because he talked too much about himself. Harvey told me that he even got to know Shaw towards the end of his life. He said that as much as he liked Shaw’s music, every time they talked he’d just be thinking, “God, stop talking about yourself and how great you are.” Shaw also hated on Goodman, which I don’t like. Then Harvey told me how happy he was to have gotten to know Shaw in his lifetime and all I could think was how happy I was to know Harvey in mine. Harvey turned me on the great Joe Maneri and Buddy DeFranco. I once saw Paul Giamatti on the street and started talking about Pekar with him and what the movie meant to me, which led to Paul coming on the radio show himself. When I heard the news I wrote Paul crying at my computer to say how thankful I was that Paul played him so well, and for turning me and so many others onto what Harvey did. Paul wrote back with some beautiful words about Harvey but what rang truest was this line: “When I met him, I felt like I had finally met someone who simply got it all, who understood everything about being human.” When I read that I was thinking, Yeah! That’s the best way to sum him up.

I invited Harvey back on my radio show for the first time in six years two weeks ago. I don’t know why it took me so long, but I think it’s mostly because the idea of interviewing him seemed awkward to me. We were friends and maybe I was just trying to not make him feel like there where any ulterior motives to our friendship. I didn’t want him to feel I was using him for anything. I just wanted to keep it an organic friendship — no show biz. I invited him on last week and he would have called in but at the last minute Sean Lennon confirmed an in-studio. I thought it would be too much for one show and wanted to have Harvey be the main focus of my attention when he came back on and not share it with Sean. I also admire Sean a great deal, so I moved Harvey to this Thursday, the show that will never be.

Harvey’s death hit me so hard this morning. When I went on Facebook, listeners kept IMing me to say how sad they where that Harvey died and how they were looking forward to listening to him on the show Thursday. That’s how I found out the awful news. The world seems so much emptier now without him. I keep calling his house and it just rings and rings. I don’t really know Joyce and other than wishing her my condolences I don’t know what else I will say but I keep wishing Harvey would pick up and I could say, “Harvey I’m having an awful day. Did you hear you died?” And he would say something like, “Yeah, it’s a real bummer man but that’s how things go, there’s no big finale or anything you just die and hope a few people dig what you did while you were here.” Well, that’s what I think he would have said. I will miss him forever.

-DANNNY LOBELL
DannyLobell.com

UPDATE: Danny is putting on a comedy show with Gavin and George Carlin’s brother, Patrick Carlin, Wednesday (tomorrow) night at Habibi Lounge, Ave. A between 12th and 13th Street.

8 P.M.
FREE
$3 beers, NO DRINK MIN.

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