By Teme Ring and Ben Feldman
Dave Stone lived many lives before comedy, experiencing things most of us can’t imagine. His newest special Pack A Lunch takes you behind the scenes from an explosive rural Georgia boyhood to an adulthood filled with unplanned twists and turns. For instance, there was the time he worked security at a hometown supermarket. Sounds straightforward? But what happens when you catch a childhood friend shoplifting? From there, he became a singing waiter who discovered a unique way to prank colleagues. There’s his career as a radio DJ – where there were some things he just wouldn’t do. And what about his years as a disgruntled Atlanta cop? Let’s just say he had some literally jaw-dropping experiences.
Has Dave survived significant challenges? Yes. But in Dave’s agile mind, there is comedy gold in those hills. You might not expect this, but on the other side of the pain, this comedian has emerged sunny, optimistic, kind, generous, and hilariously lasered in on the human foibles that continue to shower this world with insanity.
Pack A Lunch’s stories go, I’m pretty sure, where no comedy special has ever gone before. I’ve watched the special at least five times. Each time, I’ve paused to focus on different details and to absorb all the unforgettable stories, insights and laughs. His audience agreed. There are frequent extended laugh breaks throughout. Pack A Lunch is free to view on YouTube where you can also read the miles-long scroll of rave reviews.
In addition to headlining around the country, Dave has voiced characters on Adult Swim’s Squidbillies, appeared on late night TV and Last Comic Standing, and co-hosted his paranormal podcast The Boogie Monster with Kyle Kinane. He was also selected for the prestigious “New Faces” roster of the Just For Laughs Festival in Montreal. Another enjoyable place to get to know Dave is his very relatable and entertaining podcast The Stonebergs, which he records with his wife Katie.
Dave kindly zoomed with me to talk about Pack A Lunch, his life in comedy, and how life’s gut punches sometimes provide the scaffolding to support your dreams.
THESE COMEDY ROOTS RUN DEEP
Teme: How did you develop the ability to see things through a funny lens?
Dave: That is a profound question. My mom is a paraplegic and has been in a wheelchair since she was twenty-one. She has always had a sense of humor. She taught me to find the bright side, and the humorous side of difficult parts of life. She had a very positive and funny point of view, and I picked up on that from an early age. It helped my perspective on life, too.
She didn’t talk about it much, but my father did. He said “Don’t complain about the little things. Look at your mother. She can’t even walk, but still has a good attitude, so we need to practice that, too.” It got tattooed into my brain as a kid.
DETOURS
Teme: What were the turning points in your life that led to comedy?
Dave: I wanted to do comedy since I was a teenager. At nineteen, I went to broadcasting school and became a radio DJ. That’s when I got the bug. I was living in Athens, Georgia working in radio and I would write jokes. I spent months writing ten minutes worth of stuff. Four different times I went to open mics and signed my name. Each time when they called my name, I cowered in the back and didn’t acknowledge it. I didn’t have the nerve, even though I was on the radio and you would think that translates. With radio, I can’t see the people looking back at me, hanging on every word waiting for me to say something funny. That level of stage fright, I couldn’t overcome. So I put it out of my mind for literally a decade.
ON THE ROAD
Teme: I heard that you were also a tour manager for a metal band!
Dave: That was during my my transitional period between radio DJ and cop. A wrestler, Chris Jericho, had a band called Fozzy. I knew some of the other guys in the band Stuck Mojo, an early ’90s rap/metal group, who hooked up with Chris and Fozzy. I was their tour manager for two years and doubled as their mascot, “Arthur.” I dressed in a Boy Scout uniform and a rubber pig mask. During a particular guitar solo, I’d come on stage with a chainsaw and chase Chris around the stage. Half my duties were pretending to be Arthur. The other half was tour manager. After being a huge fan in high school, it was surreal that a few years later I’m working for them. It was a lot of fun and gave me the touring bug. I loved life on the road. A few years later when I got into standup, those skills and the affinity for travel translated well.
Fast forward to after I was no longer a cop. I was a self-employed landscaper, and I ran into Rich Ward [Stuck Mojo and Fozzy guitarist] at Blockbuster Video. We’re catching up and I’m telling him about my landscaping business. I thought he was joking when he said, “If you ever need help, give me a call.” He had quit touring for a while and was recording a new album but had free time on his hands. It was so weird. Ten years earlier, this was my heavy metal idol and now he’s riding shotgun in my dirty Ford Ranger while we go mow some lawns. That was a lot of fun.
But before that, as their touring manager when their schedule slowed down, I needed another job and that’s when I became a cop. I was a police officer in Atlanta, Georgia, and hated every second of it. I did that job for four years. I had a couple of legit near-death experiences and realized I never wanted to be a cop. Really didn’t take to it. After a couple of close calls, it was a wake-up call of, “You’re not doing what you want with your life. Let’s get over that stage fright and try standup comedy.” It propelled me.
WHEN THINGS FALL APART … IT’S NOT THE END OF THE STORY
Teme: In Pack A Lunch, you’ve got a pretty earthshattering story about being a police officer that I don’t want to spoil here! You’ve also been so honest about another event, a bribe and the extraordinary stress that followed. How were you able to come out of all those times as such a positive and uplifting person?
Dave: It was a humbling experience. First off, nobody’s fault, but my own. The [police department] became convinced I was part of a ring of dirty cops and that I was covering up for someone. It was a split second of terrible judgment. It was more an act of rebellion than anything else because I was so disgruntled. I could have quit voluntarily before it got to that level, but I needed the paycheck. I thought, “This is probably the best I can do.” So my attitude got worse and worse.
I was ticketing this guy. English was not his first language. I was explaining to him, “Wait ten days, call this number on the back and they’ll tell you how much it is.” It was one of our cheapest violations. He kept trying to understand and I sincerely don’t think he was bribing me. It was a language barrier.
He said, “I work every day. Why can’t I just pay now? I don’t want to go to court. Can I pay now?” I said, “No, you can’t pay me now. Call this number.” After the fifth or sixth time, I was just like, “You know what? I’ll take care of it.” Took his fifty dollars as an act of rebellion. Six months later, they tracked me down. Apparently, his brother had a similar violation and they were talking about it. My guy had mentioned, “Well, I just gave the cop fifty bucks.” And his brother was like, “I don’t think that’s how that’s supposed to work.” He filed a complaint and found out it was me. They questioned me and I said, “Yes, it was me. I know I wasn’t supposed to do that.”
I was fired, arrested, and almost prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. It was quite a scandal. I was on the local news every night. It was the most shameful thing I ever experienced. People don’t like a dirty cop. I can’t pretend in that moment I wasn’t a dirty cop. Mug shot all over the news. People from high school, family, friends, everybody knew, “Dave’s the disgraced dirty cop.” There’s about a six-month period after the arrest where I’m being told “They’re not making any plea agreements. This will go to trial. You will be convicted. You will go to prison for three to five years.”
And speaking of Rich [Ward], all this was happening while I was landscaping. I’d already made arrangements with Rich to take over my business and give a portion of the proceeds to my fiancee. I was convinced I’m going to prison. At the last second, the day before the trial, my attorney talked them into a plea bargain. I pled guilty to two charges, extortion, and violation of oath of office, both felonies. In exchange for not going to trial and then prison, I pled guilty. I got five years’ probation.
After all that, I was like, “You’re not doing what you want with your life. You’ve been through one of the worst things that’s going to happen to you. It’s time to give standup a shot.” And here we are.
HOW TO THINK ABOUT CHANGE
Teme: What is your advice for dealing with intense stress? I aspire to your mindset of having hard things culminate in a positive new chapter.
Dave: Change is often good. In the moment, I didn’t understand that. I was so dependent on the paycheck and a job and not having an education to fall back on. I felt like I can’t walk away. It forced a change in my life. If you’re in a situation where change is thrust upon you, figure out how to make the most of it.
If not for that incident, I probably would’ve never walked away from that job. I’d still be doing it. I would be miserable. I might be dead. I might be divorced. I might be an alcoholic. Much of that is prevalent in that profession. In hindsight, it’s the best thing that ever happened to me because it forced me to finally pursue standup.
I never cared about fame or status. My goal when I first started was to work hard and scrape out a meager living. And I wanted to be on TV again – for something positive, not my mug shot on the news. I wanted my stand-up to be on The Late Late Show right after the news. I achieved that.
PACK A LUNCH
Teme: As Pack A Lunch opens, someone is walking through the audience giving something out before the show starts. What was happening?
Dave: That is my lovely wife. The little details make the difference. I want the lights to be right, the sound to be right. I want the pre-show music to be right. Everything needs to be right. We thought, “Let’s create this warm, fun atmosphere before the show, get everybody in a great mood. Wouldn’t it be fun if we hand out snacks?” We went and bought a whole bunch of Little Debbie snack cakes. She had a big canvas bag, and was the Little Debbie queen. You’re getting settled in to watch a comedy show, and then here’s this lady offering you a Little Debbie Star Crunch or a Devil’s Food Cake, like, “Oh, why not?”
Teme: You start the show with such great energy. What are you doing right before you go on stage?
Dave: You wouldn’t believe it looking at me now, but I come from an athletic background. I played sports in high school and even a bit of college football before I hurt my knee. So I’m coming from that mindset of, “You got to go perform! The game’s about to start. There’s no pause button. There’s no redo!”
Some people make fun of me in the green room. I’m doing stretches. I’m cracking my knuckles. It’s a mental thing. Especially taping a special. I’m thinking, “Here’s an opportunity to shine. This is why I did all the open mics that nobody came to. This is why I drove all those miles. Tonight is the night.”
Teme: Which stories in Pack A Lunch were most challenging to write?
Dave: I hadn’t talked about being a cop until that point. It’s not something I wanted to highlight. My friend Kyle Kinane knew a lot of these stories and that I didn’t want to talk about them on stage. After one show, he said, “Look, man, you have all these great stories and I’m up there talking about farts.” From a comic’s perspective, I was leaving a lot of material on the table by choosing not to talk about it. So I thought, “How do I start talking about that?” The story about running lights and sirens to use the bathroom, that was a good point of entry to the cop stories. People who knew some of my cop stories would ask me, “What’s the craziest thing you experienced?” It’s a laundry list I could choose from. The head story, as I’ll call it, was a challenge. I had to take something tragic and horrific and and figure out how to make it funny.
Teme: How did you move on with life and stay funny after witnessing such traumatic things like that story?
Dave: It’s not easy. There are dozens of stories I wish I didn’t experience. I probably suffered a little PTSD. I was fortunate. I had a normal childhood. I know a lot of people can’t say that. Then one day, I’m twenty-three and picking up body parts off the side of the road, and I’m carrying bodies down attic ladders and unhooking people from nooses. What the hell am I doing? Why did I sign up for this? I didn’t realize how much of that stuff happens, whether it’s natural cause deaths, or witnessing horrible crimes.
Teme: I can’t imagine that kind of stress on an average day at work.
Dave: A lot of cops don’t deal with it in a healthy way. This was twenty years ago. It wasn’t fashionable for men to go to therapy. We were self-medicating with booze or this or that. For me, it didn’t get too bad, but it changed me. Every night you’re dealing with people at their lowest point. It’s never a good night when a cop is standing in your kitchen. No one’s ever happy to see you. Almost everybody you deal with is lying or trying to deceive you. Some of the people you deal with are trying to hurt you physically. It alters your view of the world and not in a good way.
It was not a life I wanted to live anymore. Maybe subconsciously I did the thing I did knowing or hoping I would get caught and it would end my career. Some people are cut out for that work. I was not. Again, not excusing my behavior or any cop who does wrong, but it’s not a leap to get to the point of, “Fuck it. Everybody sucks. Everyone’s a criminal.” I’m not that person, and I didn’t like being that person. I’m so glad now my professional life is making funny observations over everyday things. I’d much rather do that than meeting people at the lowest points of their lives every night.
Teme: Thank you for talking about it. People I admire most are the ones who’ve been through hard things, yet come back to put positive things into the world.
Dave: Well, thank you. I didn’t know what else to do. That part of my life was over, even though it didn’t end the way I wanted it to. Part of that mentality – it’s funny you mentioned that – I talked about getting some of my sense of humor from my mom, but my dad also. My dad had a terrible childhood. He was an orphan. He was homeless for a period. He was seven years old, sleeping on the sidewalks of Detroit and kicked around foster homes, orphanages. But then he grew up and decided, “I’m not going to let my upbringing alter my personality and my ethics and morals and values.”
My dad was such a positive person. You can’t control how you were brought up. You can’t correct your past mistakes. All you can handle is today. He was such a great example of that. Let’s not let our hardships and mistakes, whether our own mistakes or not, let’s not let that identify who we are.
THE STONEBERGS
Teme: Speaking of your wife, I’m a fan of hers, too, and of The Stonebergs. What is your advice for keeping relationship energy positive?
Dave: That’s a great question. When we met eleven years ago, neither one of us was in a position to be in a meaningful relationship. I was living in a van and broke as a hobo. She had her issues like with alcohol that she’s open about and doesn’t mind me sharing, so when we met there was attraction and we dated, but it became on again, off again. One thing we often point out is perseverance. If you’re with someone and there are issues, try to figure those out. Don’t let the initial bond and the initial love get swept away.
We are a true success story. If you asked either one of us, or anybody that knew us years ago, that those two goobers are going to wind up happily married, everybody would’ve laughed. It wasn’t a bad relationship, but there were things standing in our way. We persevered. I can’t begin to explain how much she means to me. She’s gone through her share of trauma. She lost a sister when she was thirteen and in the last five years, she’s lost both parents and her only aunt. She’s gone through a lot. But she keeps a positive attitude and it’s not fake.
It’s her sincerity that is so warm and welcoming and attractive. To sincerely trudge forward and find the good parts of life. If I had to boil all this down to one thing, find someone that makes you laugh. Someone that doesn’t take themselves too seriously. We both fall into that category.
We could sit and read the phone book together and be happy. She always puts me in a good mood. A rule I try to adhere to in all walks of life, including relationships, is to be an asset, not an expense. She’s definitely an asset, and I hope she feels the same about me. She always makes things better.
HOW TO THINK ABOUT SUCCESS
Teme: Absolutely anything else we should add about Pack A Lunch, about comedy, life, or absolutely anything?
Dave: Don’t be afraid to change. Don’t be afraid to follow your dreams. I wanted to do standup when I was younger, but I didn’t have the nerve. Don’t box yourself in and don’t limit your expectations of yourself. We only live once. Life is short. Be glad your peers are succeeding because that means it could happen to you next. I always remind people, be glad we’re in a field where these opportunities are available.
Growing up in the South in a small town, I was inundated with this mentality of self-limitation. “Nobody leaves this hometown. Nobody has a job outside of the factory.” Realize that the world is huge and there’s a lot of opportunity out there if you’re willing to start at the bottom and work hard.
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Pack A Lunch is a Blonde Medicine release available on multiple platforms, including dumbdavestone.com and YouTube.
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