A funny way to live in Dallas - JOHN ANDERS -
Anybody who has the moxie to do stand-up comedy in this town is a stand-up guy in my book. And that includes Dave Little, posterboy for male pattern baldness. With Dave, you can expect a few Rogaine jokes sprinkled through the act. He's a local guy, a funny guy — your basic, organically grown comic. We have them here, you know, despite the fact that “there are only 3½ comedy clubs around,” by Dave's own count.

Plano High School. University of North Texas graduate in English. Are you sure Henny Youngman started like this? Dave almost became a technical editor for EDS in 1980 but instead took a job handling lighting chores for the old Bowley and Wilson comedy club on Greenville Avenue. It was a start.

At 37, Dave makes a respectable living just being funny at comedy venues here and there — but mostly here. The class clown finally has the last laugh. OK, so maybe you haven't heard of the guy.

He used to travel the national Improv circuit. He's been on TV a few times. “I'm no big deal,” he says, “. . . just a working stiff who likes to make people laugh. I suppose I'm funny to folks who haven't had a bad bald-person experience.”

Short work . . .
I caught Dave's act the other night at the Back Door Comedy Showcase on Greenville Avenue. In knee-length shorts and a golf shirt, he looked like a guy who'd just stepped off the 18th green — after a double bogey on Tenison East. Somehow he made a small, tepid audience snicker, then give up our laughter almost against the collective will.

I'm not saying this was a tough house, but the very moment Dave got on stage, a woman sitting directly in front of him suddenly stood up and walked out. Maybe she'd had a few too many. “Hell, I've seen this guy before,” was her slurred remark as she walked toward the women's restroom. A comic has to be able to accept rejection, and Dave didn't flinch. He said we'd all wait until she got back, but didn't miss a beat.

When she finally returned from the can, he said, “You missed four jokes — I'll just give you the highlights” — and he drew a big laugh by summing them up in 15 seconds.

Although we enjoy a good laugh as much as the next town, Dallas Isn't exactly Comedy Central. “You have to be prepared for some weird gigs — to start out as a male dancer at Arby's,” Dave believes. But he likes the life, and he likes it here. Not long ago he had an awful cold but went on stage just the same. “I was literally lying on the floor backstage in an overcoat before I went on. But when I got up there, suddenly I felt perfectly healthy and alive — even though I was sniffling and snorting in front of the audience.” We know you're up there, Dave. We can hear you wheezing.

Family funny man . . .
Dave has a wife and two young kids, a mortgage in East Dallas, In-laws and relatives in town “I like living here. Every day I get to do something I like. I've never understood why all the funny guys are supposed to live in New York or LA. All that means is that those comics could afford a moving van.” I don't particularly like jokes, and, surprisingly, Dave says he doesn't either. Observations maybe. And talking to people about funny things we all experience.

He particularly hates it when people find out he's a comic and then try to tell him a joke. “Do you think I would go up to a lawyer and tell him how to plead a case?” So when people ask what he does for a living, Dave Little usually ducks the issue by saying he “works nights.” Actually, he just comes out on stage and starts talking to people, as if he'd suddenly appeared in their den on the way to the refrigerator to get a Snapple. Paula Pound-stone's like that. Sometimes she merely gibes with the audience and never really seems to get off a zinger. But whatever she's doing up there — It's funny.

Q: Are there any cheesy elements In your act?
A: No. if there were, I would cut them out. I would hate to come offstage end hear someone say: “ Man, you're cheesy. ” It just has a bad sound to It: “Cheesy, greasy, sleazy ” - all those words sound way similar.

Q: If you were reincarnated as a cheese, what would be your preference?
A: Maybe a bag of Cheetos. People always seem to be happy when they're eating Cheetos. If I could help in their happiness, I'd love that.

Q: Have you ever had a “straight,” or noncomedy Job?
A: Not really, although some of my audiences probably think I should get one. I do act in commercials. I play a dad In a Children's Medical Center commercial that's coming out soon.

Q: Are you a dad In real life?
A: Yes. I'm a dad twice: Jake and Cal. They're 3½ and ½

Q: Do they do funny stuff that you put in your act?
A: No. They're funny, but it's nothing you could re­create on stage. When I grab their nose, it makes them laugh.

Q: Is your wife funny?
A: I love her because I can make her laugh, and to me that's funny.

Q: Do you tell wife Jokes in your act?
A: Just a few, not too many.

Q: Are these for real things or generic “take my wife, please” jokes?
A: Everything In my act really happened. Or parts of It happened, and I've Just embellished a bit.

Q: What's a cheesy act that you have seen In your life?
A: John Tesh, I think. He's up there. I think he's the smelliest.

Q: You were not our first choice for this article We first approached a local man whose actual surname Is Cheese. Mr. Cheese turned us down. So you were No.2 on our list. Does that make you feet a little cheesy?
A: No, not at all. It's somewhat refreshing to know that I'm on somebody's list.