INTERVIEW: Barry Crimmins' last stand

Barry Crimmins has had enough. At least, that’s what the 53-year-old political satirist insists before taking the stand-up stage one last time.

"If you stay on the road forever, you’re pressing your luck," he says before his sold-out performance at the Jimmy Tingle Off Broadway Theater in June. "I think my road is pretty darned steamrollered at this point."

After over 30 years of performing, Crimmins is calling it quits. In the future, he’ll devote his verbal assaults to the printed page (and perhaps the occasional podcast). The task began in 2004 when his first book, "Never Shake Hands with a War Criminal," was published by Seven Stories Press.

"I hit the road in the early ‘70s and for the last several years it’s been hitting me back harder and harder," remarks Crimmins. "I’ve accumulated more stories than I could ever hope to recount. But I intend to try."

Crimmins made a 15-year stop in Boston, starting in 1979 when he founded the legendary Ding Ho Comedy Club in Inman Square. His firebrand delivery ignited countless progressive gatherings, which led to gigs with Steven Wright and musicians like Jackson Browne, Billy Bragg, Michelle Shocked and Dar Williams. The satirist opened dozens of shows throughout New England for various artists, including the late Warren Zevon.

In a candid interview, Crimmins talks about anti-war activist Cindy Sheehan, the cult of personality, the Ding Ho and his last laugh as a stand-up comedian.

Q: You spent time two years ago with Cindy Sheehan in Crawford, Texas. What are your thoughts about her calling it quits this week?
CRIMMINS: If everyone did one-tenth of one percent of what Cindy did, the war would be over by now. She’s done her part. She needs some privacy. She needs some time away from the ridiculous attacks she’s suffered and she needs some time to grieve. I understand that. She’s one of the finest people I’ve ever met and I’m thankful for every minute she put in. If she decides to never speak out in public again, she earned that right and then some.

Q: On her blog entry ‘Good riddance attention whore,’ she writes that her son, Casey, died for nothing. Do you agree with her?
CRIMMINS: What’s the name of the blog?

Q: It’s called ‘Good riddance attention whore.’
CRIMMINS: I’m sorry you even told me that. Cindy Sheehan went out to get an answer to a question. If that coward in the White House had the common courtesy and decency to come out and answer her question, this would have all been taken care of in short order. There’s your attention whore for you. He’s in the White House.

Q: So, is this really your final stand-up performance?
CRIMMINS: Yes, the travel is brutal. I’ve been riding around in circles for 35 years and I’ve got some writing to do. I imagine I will be speaking in public again. Hopefully, I will be doing a book tour and things like that. But, I’m tired of the whole cult of personality in America. Show business is more embarrassing than it ever was … which is hard to do. It’s just a contest now.

Q: What do you mean?
CRIMMINS: Everything is a contest. I did a show a few weeks back at Iowa State and two different kids came up to me and asked if I’ve ever done any contests (like ‘Last Comic Standing’). I don’t believe in competing with my fellow artists. What chance would I have in a contest when there are so many people willing to pander for attention? That sort of thing lowers already abysmally low standards. I used to be proud to be called a comedian and now I avoid the word because it makes me cringe.

Q: There’s still a mythical reverence for the old Ding Ho. Do you think that sort of lightning in a bottle will ever be replicated?
CRIMMINS: Sure, there better more moments like that. There better more people putting together good ideas. All over the Internet, you’re seeing elements similar to what we had at the Ding Ho. I’m not sure what or where it’s going to be, but it’s got to happen again.

Q: What’s it like returning to Boston?
CRIMMINS: I immediately drive like an asshole. (Laughs) It’s heartwarming for me to return and it humbles me that people still want to hear what I have to say after all of these years. There’s nothing like Boston, especially for me. I arrived there literally homeless, carrying everything I owned in the world, and left an established professional in a tough field. How can I not love Boston? There will always be a little Charles River water running through my veins.

Sam Baltrusis has worked for MTV, VH1, Seventeen, Newsweek and as a regional stringer for The New York Times. He's currently an online journalist with WHDH-TV, Channel 7 News in Boston.