Bringing Back the Madness — Absurd comedian, Bob Rubin, gets a second chance
It was a time that most diehard comedy fans dream of, the Woodstock of the comedy heyday: San Francisco in the early 80s. A big lumberjack of a man, Bob Rubin, stepped out of the beat up Oldsmobile that carried him halfway across the desert, the second of two hitchhiked rides, to arrive in a city that was vibrant and full of possibility in the world of comedy. The streets were teeming as comedy clubs popped up like young, green sprigs from the earth, and the air was ripe with a hunger for creativity that has since never been seen.
Bob Rubin was the perfect person to take this town to a new level by introducing his surreal brand of comedy to the scene. It was a type of comedy that would ultimately influence many of today’s comedy greats, and yet until his Netflix special debuted on Netflix in May 2020 (made possible by Patton Oswalt), not many people had ever heard of him. Who is Bob Rubin? Why is he credited with influencing so many comedians? What’s the real deal here? Let’s go back to 1983 to find out.
The Holy City Zoo was a dark hole-in-the-wall where it was often hard to hear the comedians onstage over the rock music from the bar next door. Its tiny, beat up stage was frequently graced by such comedians as Robin Williams, Dana Carvey, Kevin Meaney, and pretty much every other comedian including Bob Rubin, or “The Rube” as his fans call him. It was at this treasured little dump that he did his first set in SF, his absurdity and surrealism leaving his audience dumfounded.
But Rubin was actually no stranger to the stage, having been a staple in the University of Arizona’s Comedy Corner, a famous weekly show put on by students that still exists today. Once rumor got out about his over the top antics, such as bringing a motorcycle down to The Cellar lounge with the intent of jumping the audience Evil Knievel-style, the rooms were so packed it gave new meaning to the term “standing-room only”. Similarly, once word got out in San Francisco about the craziness Rubin was bringing to every stage that would have him, lineups to see him curled buildings like hungry pythons hugging their prey. They loved it and wanted more.
Sparks into fire
Ask any comedian who was lucky enough to have experienced that special time in SF history where today’s comedy was in its infancy and they will agree that it was the openness of the intelligent audiences that fueled their creative sparks. For Rubin, this translated into a “Wait ’til they see this!” feeling that was the driving force behind his complete absurdism and dedication to his art.
So, how does one define “dedicated”?
In the mid-80s, Rubin once had a Mexican wrestler interrupt his show, a masked man who seemingly attacked and killed Bob, right before the gasping audience, leaving him face down in a kid’s pool filled with water. A breathing tube enabled Rubin to stay in that position on stage for over an hour, while the other clued in comedy acts performed, only pulling himself out of the water and getting off stage after every audience member had left.
In 1985 at San Francisco’s Comedy in the Park, he dressed up as a pink poodle (a homemade costume made of pink leotards and cotton balls covered in pink spray paint) and dove through a homemade flamed-engulfed ring, only to catch on fire and land head first onto concrete and knock himself out in front of 40,000 bewildered people who just assumed the strange concussed ramblings that followed were part of his act (they weren’t), giving new meaning to the term “the show must go on”.
Another year at that same comedy festival, Bob took a big chance. He asked his friend backstage, Sylvia, if he could borrow her daughter. Having full trust in the man many perceived to be a maniac (but is actually a gentle giant, one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet), she agreed. Walking onstage he told the audience he had received some death threats recently and had come prepared with a bullet proof vest, only to turn around to reveal the adorable little girl strapped to his chest. For a moment, the audience was completely silent and Bob thought “uh oh…” but the laughter and applause that followed had the eruptive force of a volcano, much to Bob’s relief.
Bob was THE favourite comedy guest on the wildly popular KQAK and Live 105 morning shows for over 18 years, being a significant contributor to teenage truancy with many of his fans skipping school just to listen to him. Showing up at ridiculously early hours after performing at night often meant no sleep but the joy he felt and shared was well worth it.
He was a hit with on-air guests, too. When Ozzy Osbourne visited the show, Bob decided to make it memorable and rented a chicken suit. Driving down the 101 wearing all but the head of the costume, he was pulled over for having bench warrants for unpaid tickets and was thrown into a holding cell, still wearing the costume. Fortunately, one of the cops recognized him and let him go and he arrived at the station in time for Ozzy’s last hour, greeting him with, “Me and my buddy Foghorn would like to talk to you out in the alley,” leaving Ozzy and the record label people in stitches. Bob only learned much later that it was actually a bat that Ozzy beheaded with his teeth.
From blowing himself up onstage with homemade explosives (yes he was ‘Original Jackass’) to jumping off stage and hopping on a bus to end his act (he never went back, not even to get paid), this is a man who was willing to try anything new.
Sometimes he failed. Miserably. He walked more people probably than any other comedian out there. But sometimes, many times, he did something so different, so magical, that those who witnessed it still to this day have never forgotten it. And that’s what this artist has endeavored to do his whole life — to create those unforgettable moments for people. And that’s why the young comedians who opened for him and are now highly successful consider Bob to be one of the grandfathers of today’s comedy. His is an important influence, yet completely unknown to even the most devout comedy connoisseur outside of SF.
But Rubin is not a gimmick comedian, despite his flirtations with a variety of wild antics. The concepts he conveys create vivid images in the viewers’ minds, and the stories he tells paint detailed pictures that reveal just how insane our world really is. His vivid stream of consciousness rants are something to be seen, with his fans feeling vindicated, that finally someone else understands that it’s ok to feel disconnected and it’s ok to be overwhelmed by the madness. Fans don’t like Rubin, they love Rubin, and are fiercely loyal.
You might be wondering, why did it take so many years for Rubin to do his first stand-up special? After 17 years of over the top madness in SF, Robert Wachs, renowned manager to Eddie Murphy saw Bob perform and decided that he wanted to take one more person to the top and promptly paid for Bob’s move to Los Angeles. What proceeded to follow in LA might be best described in one of Bob’s best one-liners: “I was pulled over recently by the Hollywood Police: Put down your hopes and step away from your dreams.”
After too many near misses to count including auditioning for The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson and getting it (only for producers to back out thinking he was actually insane), Bob faced the grim reality that what made him so successful in SF would also hold him back — he was just too different. Bearded when no one was, with a West Virginian accent, he did not easily fit into any box, although he did appear in several movies and tv shows and has some decent writing credits. But the success that seemed so inevitable for Bob just didn’t come.
Good representation is crucial to any kind of commercial success in the entertainment world. After Wachs drifted away, no one else seemed to be up to the challenge of figuring out how to turn this spark into a roaring fire. They still aren’t. But dedicated and as determined as ever, Rubin still refuses to compromise, delivering absurdity and eccentricity every chance he gets, despite that when his phone stopped ringing, he was surviving with the kind of menial, manual jobs he had as a teenager. It seemed like the dream was dead, and Bob sunk into a deep depression. That is, until Patton Oswalt, an exceptional comedian from the SF days who credits Bob as one of his greatest influences, stepped in and asked Netflix to fill in some of comedy history for the fans by including Bob’s special with his own. Now, with a comedy special out there for the entire world to see, the air is ripe with promise once again.
So, what happened to Bob Rubin? As it turns out he is still going strong. You can see for yourself — strap in and get ready for a wild ride before watching him on Netflix and visit him at www.rubetime.com.
And enjoy some good ole fashioned madness.
