Transcription
Yeah, it's a very, very sweet introduction. It's almost, uh, I almost feel like we can't match that, can we? I can't. Um, so thank you for coming here. You actually were scheduled to be in Washington D.C. earlier in the year, but you, uh, were unable to make it, right?
Oh, yes, that's, that's correct. Um, but so you had to write a book to get here, but we're, we're obviously appreciative. Um, so, I just, to start out, uh, this book, "Based on a True Story: A Memoir." Um, how would you describe that to people?
Well, I don't know. It's hard to describe things, but that's what I learned when I tried to write a book. But, uh, I would just, I don't know. It's, uh, you know, I, it's, I, I decided to skip past facts and go for truth.
That's helpful. So, um, uh, so it's, it's not totally true, that's what you're saying?
No, I mean, when you look at your life, which writing an autobiography forces you to do, you start to understand that most of your life is, uh, well, I found, anyway. I wake up in the morning, I eat my Count Chocula, then I say, "I gotta get a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch." I'm thinking all the time, right? I said, "I gotta get groceries." And, uh, but this, uh, Count Chocula has not digested yet. And then I go, so anyways, most of your life is finding and eating food, which doesn't make for a great read.
Yeah, you didn't consider a cookbook?
That's why cookbooks are there. So that's what cooking is. So, but, but we would argue, uh, knowing what you've done, uh, in your life professionally, then the part we know about, it's been very interesting. You've, uh, mixed and worked with some of the most fascinating people in entertainment, right?
Yeah, well, here's the thing. With backstage things, they're not interesting at all. Like, uh, on the stage is what's the interesting part. And then backstage, it's just guys eating ham sandwiches. It's all eating. Yeah. And they're trying to figure out what to do on stage, you know? And they're saying, "Is there any way we could, we could work some eating up food into this sketch?" No. But, you know, that's what show business is on the stage. And also, most of the interesting things that have ever happened to me happened to me before I had any measure of fame. Because once you have fame, you're in a, a bit of a cage. Uh, against which, uh, you know, like, one time I got, I think I told you, I got, did I tell you about my fight in New York City?
No, no, I have not heard about your fight.
I used to fight all the time when I was in Canada before I was famous. Like a professional boxer? No, just fighting. I was not a prize fighter. I just wanted you to say "prize" and so forth. And anyways, I was in a bar in New York City and I hit a guy and he went down. There's some broken glass and stuff. And, uh, so I said, I was like, "Oh my God, I'm on the TV." I forgot because I was on the TV. Yeah. So I ran out of the bar. And the guy said, "Hey, who are you anyway?" And I said, "Dana Carvey."
That's good. I don't tell you.
No, no. I thought you'd say Vince Vaughn. Those things, those interesting things happen to me all the time. But once you're famous, uh, you know, your life is pretty, uh, pretty uninteresting after that.
So, you, before you were famous, I spoke to your mother. I called her on the phone. Uh, she said you're a very good student, but also, she said, uh, you were sort of an adventurer. She talked about you living on a boat for a time and working. And now, again, some of this is in your book, right?
No, no, no. Because that's interesting. Nothing interesting. Yeah. Okay. Should appear in this book. But yeah, it was a bit of a, I was a bit of a scapegrace.
What?
Scapegrace. Escape trouble maker. I'd never do well, you know? So I travel from place to place, cause havoc, and move to the next town like a traveling sort of salesman who...
More like a criminal drifter.
So you grew up in Canada, right? You started doing stand-up, uh, in what? Ottawa, Canada?
Yeah, yeah. And, uh, but just by accident, you know? I, I never knew there was such a thing as a person that could work in comedy. Like, I thought, you know, I had seen The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. We got it rarely in Canada, but we got it. And I thought there were like five comedians. Yeah. And they all had nice sweaters like that. That's a nice sweater. And that's what I thought. And I didn't know that there was this subculture of comedians that traveled all around, uh, telling their, you know, rather unseemly jokes to, you know, drunk patrons and tried to hit on waitresses and asked if all the food was free. So then when I found that out, I said, "That's great." Because, uh, before that, I, I only had jobs. Uh, I had manual labor jobs. And, uh, like, what, what's a real job you did that you would call manual labor?
Well, the cooler ones were like, I was a choker man for a logging company.
And a what?
It's a person that puts the... It doesn't matter. Okay. It's a thing where a goddamn tree can fall on you. Okay. All right. Fine. Yeah. Every week. Okay. Hey, where was, where's Pete? A tree fell on him. And we all made a lot of money. We had $17 an hour. And I remember, uh, at one point, I was talking to the dishwasher that everybody made fun of, old Sam. And I said, "Sam, what do you make?" He's like, "$17 an hour." I'm like, "What?" So everybody made seven. So then I was like, "I want to be the dishwasher." It turned out there's a huge waiting list that included almost everyone in the logging company. They don't want to be a dishwasher. Yeah. Because when you were washing dishes, the likelihood of a tree falling on you was highly diminished.
So you, um, you go to, uh, you start doing comedy. And, you know, what is interesting to me is we hear about cocaine is not working.
[Music]
I just want to say, I mean, I don't really know about your personal life here, but I've been with you for hours and hours and hours. I'd say, what, we've been together? Yes. And I've never seen you take a single sip of alcohol. Right? Yet I read the internet. Do you, do you go there?
What's that?
The internet.
Do you see that?
Sure. Yeah. And, uh, every time you do anything, people say, "Drinking a man's drinking again." Right?
Yes, sir.
And when I do stand-up there, I go, "I don't drink."
[Applause]
That's rich. And I don't drink. You know, the only thing I do is, uh, before every show, I eat a fistful of acid, LSD.
[Music]
And my doctor, who's a broken record, is like, "Stop eating fistfuls of acid before your shows."
That was good. Yeah. I didn't know when to cut in, but I think I stayed out, uh, long enough. So, um, you talk about it in the book how you're the key to how you were able to get yourself onto Saturday Night Live. I hate to jump ahead, but you're talking about comedy. And, you know, we have this sense there's this huge audition process, and you have to trot out all these characters. Maybe you could tell us a little bit about how, how you found yourself on that show.
Well, there is an audition process, and, uh, which I didn't know about. I thought I had the job. That's what I was told by a fellow that worked there. So I quit the job I had. I worked for the Roseanne program. Yeah. You're a writer on Roseanne first. So, uh, I, and I was contractually obligated to her. So I went to Roseanne. Tom and Tom said, "How you doing, buddy?" And I was like, "Pretty good." He's like, "So what's going on?" That kind of stuff. So, uh, oh, that'd be good to have him and Tarantino. Like, he's like, uh, so anyways, they were kind enough to allow me to, uh, to, uh, to go to Saturday Night Live, you know, which was very sweet of both of them. And so I left. I moved to New York City. And, uh, then this girl, Marcy Klein, said, "You know, tomorrow you have to meet with Lorne." And I'm like, "What's that all about?" She goes, "Well, that's the, you know, the job interview here." I'd quit my job. Had a good one. Yeah. So I got really drunk, forgetting I had to go the next morning to do my job interview. And anyways, I went in and Lorne and I had a fine talk. You know, he was also from, he's also from Canada. Um, but he's, that's a cosmopolitan, you know, very cosmo, a worldly person. Okay.
Are you a [ __ ] writer?
No, no, no. I don't know these words. I write a lot of stuff in English dictionary for Jeff. I write a lot of things online. He's a worldly man. Okay. That would be comfortable with the King of England himself. I know that's a little sexist comment. But, but here's the thing. I'm not. I come from the barren soils of the Ottawa Valley, you know? And that's where I was born. That's where I was born a hick. I'll die a hick. And that's the way it is. So, uh, I didn't have anything to say. So I just laughed at everything he said, like I always do when I'm trying to get a job. And, um,
[Music]
And then at the, and then all of a sudden, out of the blue, Lorne says to me, he says to me, he says, he says to me, he says, "That's the thing I wrote for Farley to do." I said, "What?" "If you did a thing where it was just a guy who says he says to me way too often." So, "Probably we do it really funny." He goes, "I met this guy and he says to me, he says, he looks right behind. He says to me, he says to me, he says to me, he says to me." So anyways, Lorne said, "You have to go to the studio now and do two, uh, impressions and two characters." And at the time, I had zero impressions and zero characters. Like, I could do impressions of like anybody. Rich Little did. But I couldn't do anyone like, you know, the of the day. Anyone will cut out. So, oh, means I know that word. I'm a writer. So, uh, anyways, um, I, I had no way. I took to. But then I, I thought when I was, you know, he said, you know, he said, "We'll be in touch." And I know I was in trouble, you know? And so I, I said, "What do I do?" And then I remembered when I was in kindergarten and I, I didn't get my homework done, I would present the teacher with a shiny red apple. Right? Yeah. Because what would a teacher like better? The scribblings of a five-year-old or eating a shiny red apple? We've been over food, the subject of food. And, uh, teachers, you know, are highly underpaid, which I think is a sin. And a shiny red apple, it costs, uh, it costs a pretty coin, you know? So then I says to myself, I, as I said, I said, "Is there a way with Lorne Michaels? Is there a way I could red apple the old man?"
[Applause]
And I'll tell you, Jeff, there's always a way. So in my back, I had a red apple. Not an actual red apple. Metaphor. It would be perfect if I'd had an actual red apple. It's not how things work. But I had a, as close a thing to a red apple in my back pocket. And I'm talking about my literal back pocket.
Literal?
Oh, God. I love when people say that all the time.
So you love that they literally constantly?
I don't even care that they're saying it wrong. No, I just know how to hear it every third word. I like you regardless as well. You know? So, uh, I took my red apple, which in this case was, uh, six grams of government-quality morphine.
We, and we know what happens next. Yeah. I was in Lorne Michaels. Luckily for me, was a hopeless morphine addict. Norm. So I think we're seeing, it's in the book. I know. I just thought when you talk about bombshells, that's an example of what we'll find in this. Oh, yes. I have bombshells. There's, you know, it's a tell-all. Well, it's not all. So tell some. Yeah. So we're seeing it a little bit in process here. But, you know, obviously, uh, we watch you on, uh, late night shows. We hear you. I just heard you on Howard Stern. We watch you on your podcast. And what we find is suddenly we're sucked into the vortex of a nearly nine-minute joke. We have no idea how it emerged or where it will lead, and what will happen with it, except that it will be very funny, and we'll be trying to get everybody to listen to it the next day. How do you, does that, do you come saying, "Oh, I have a, I have like a street joke?" Like a real street joke?
You mean like an actual joke?
Well, like, I mean, like the mom's joke or a Dirty Johnny joke?
Yeah, I didn't mean, I don't make up those jokes. They're just out there.
Oh, have you ever tried to make up a joke?
No. Comic in the world can make up an actual joke. Like, "A guy walks into a bar and this happens." This takes... This is startling information. She didn't know that. You know, I thought you're right. You come with these things written down on paper, right?
No, no. You know, they call like a comedian's act jokes, but they haven't been jokes for years. You know, it's, it changed with Alan King to observational, uh, comedy. You know, like talking about crab grass in your neighbor's [ __ ] yard.
Well, a lot of America is upset right now because there's a huge Alan King audience.
Oh, oh, yes. Yeah, yeah. Or maybe it's Larry King.
So, so you're dodging this a little bit. So these are old jokes? You're stealing from Rich Little?
No, Rich Little didn't tell jokes. No. But you like the moth joke, for instance. Colin Quinn told me that joke and he said, "You know, have you ever heard of the moth joke?" Meaning it was a famous joke. And I said, "No." And he said, "A moth goes into a podiatrist office and he says, 'I have terrible problems, doctor. And I think I'm going mad.' And then the podiatrist goes, 'Oh, well, that's too bad, moth. But why come to me? I'm a podiatrist. You should be going to see a psychiatrist.' Why did you come to my office?" And the moth says, "Because the light was on." So that's a good joke. But that's not your joke.
That's not my job. So I, so I was on the Conan O'Brien show and I was going to do one segment. And at the end of the segment, he said, "We'll be right back with Norm Macdonald." Norm, I'm like, "What the [ __ ]? I thought a guy was going to show new Christmas toys." So I said, I said, "I don't got nothing to say." And then I remember that Colin Quinn, he said, "Just talk." So I remember that Colin Quinn joke. And I, you know, which is about, that's about a 20-second joke, you know? So I said, "How long is this segment?" Hoping he'd say 20 seconds. They say about seven minutes. You know? So I made the joke seven minutes long.
[Applause]
I guess that's our answer, right? Um, Norm, we, uh, one thing that's important is you have written this book. And we do at book, uh, book events like this, we have people, the authors read. Oh, read from the book. Yeah. So, uh, we would like you to read, read from the book. Yeah. All right. Um, and then we'll, we'll get, we can have more questions, conversation, whatever. Yeah. It's a great crowd. These people really appreciate. Yeah. I know the history of the, uh, how it turned from a place of the Lord to a seedy nightclub and the Lord came back. It was a cool, it's a great story. It's a great story. You know, I love houses of worship. I, uh, you know, I go to churches wherever because I travel a lot doing stand-up. And churches, and especially old churches, are my favorite places to go. And, you know, I'm a religious person, but I'm never preachy. You know what I mean?
Yeah. You've gotten into, uh, discussions with people on the, on, on, on Twitter when they will demand that you declare that you're an atheist. Or, right? It's very stylish to be atheist. And listen, I cannot stand preachy people. And the only thing I would say is, you can't get into heaven without Jesus Christ.
[Applause]
Yeah. Now, that's preachy. Yeah. So this, uh, this chapter you're gonna read to us, it's called "A Tiny White Coffin."
"Tiny White Coffin." Because one time I saw a tiny white coffin and it struck me as one of the saddest images I had ever seen. So anyways, the story is about, this is just the end of the story. But at the start of the story, it's about a child. When you're a celebrity of any sort, people want things from you, especially terminally ill children.
[Applause]
So anyways, there was a Make-A-Wish Foundation and this child wanted me. You want to come to SNL? Natural? And and then watch me throughout the week and see how an idea became a sketch. So I said, "Okay, that's a wonderful idea." And, uh, I talked to him on his bedside and I got everybody else to scram, you know? And, uh, I was saying how, how touched I was that he, he wanted to do that. And then he said, "I don't want to do that. I just made that up. I haven't, uh, liked SNL since Bill Murray left." So I said, "Well, what, what do you want me for?" He said, "Well, you have your Canadian citizenship still." And I said, "Yes, I'm Canadian." You know? And he said, "Well, that helps. My wish is to kill a baby seal." So we took him. You know, me and my buddy, uh, we went to Gander, Newfoundland, where we, uh, where we, uh, uh, got the, the services of, uh, Edward McClintock, a cod fisherman. And he took us to the floe. And, uh, and, uh, we, uh, we found the, um, you know, that the boy had a terrible cough, you know? And, uh, Edward McClintock said, "He's not going to make it through the North Atlantic."
[Music]
And I said, "But his final wish." You know? But I worried about the boy, you know? So many pills. But we tried. I tried to entertain him. We would sit and we'd look, the sky is so beautiful and limitless when you get to the super northern places. And we look at the clouds, the boy and I, and we try to find figures in them. You know, like, I go, "That clown looks like a half-eaten pickle."
[Music]
The boy had not learned that life was about food yet. So he saw other things, you know? He would go, "Look, there's a man with a beard." And I'd say, "I don't see it." He goes, "Wait, see where the, that's his mouth and then that's his chin." I go, "Yes, it is. A man with a beard. Right you are." And, you know, and I go, "What about that one?" "It's an alligator." He goes, "I instantly, I see this in an alligator." So we both saw an alligator. And not it went. So, uh, finally, uh, we get to the, we hear the, the some odd noise I'd never heard that. Uh, Edward McClintock said, "Harp seal." Yeah, baby harp. Uh, so he said, "Oh, God, thank God. We've been on the sea for a couple of days." And, uh, we go. And, and then you, we heard gunshots. And, uh, Edward McClintock said, "Damn punks from St. John's with their revolvers. That's not how you kill a seal." And we said, "Well, how do you kill him?" And he produced a rucksack. And out of the rucksack was this many evil-looking sort of thing. It was called a hack-a-pick, like a pick. And, uh, Edward McClintock gave instructions to the boy. And he said, he said, "A seal's skull is as thin as a shadow. By striking them with this hack-a-pick directly above the eyes, and watch as they go glassy." So the boy ran away.
No, he didn't run away, man. He ran towards. Ran toward this harp seal, where the baby harp. And, uh, and me and Edward McClintock and my buddy stood there. And he had such strength, suddenly, this, this child. And he struck as hard as he could. And blood came out. It was so red with the white behind it, you know? Just this fountain of blood. It's most of it hit the boy's face and within his mouth. And it was almost like the life of the seal itself was transferring there to the child. And then me and my friend and Edward McClintock, we just stood and watched this wicked miracle unfold.
[Applause]
And on our way back, we were all depressed. And we couldn't get the image out of our mind, except for the boy who sang gay songs. I gave him his pills. He threw them in the North Atlantic. He didn't want the pills. And we went back. And a miracle had happened. The boy was free of his, uh, disease. It was like, it was in the New York newspapers at the time. This was about 18 years ago. And he, he, he got a small measure of fame for it. I mean, he got to go to Gracie Mansion and he met the mayor. And he was on the Donahue program. Cured Phil Donahue. I'm sure. Yeah. There were other, there were other people with him that had been cured and so forth. He didn't, it remained a secret of how he was cured. But, and it was barely mentioned a year later when he was struck by a city bus and killed.
[Applause]
Anyways, is that, that's where we pick up the story. Yes. We're picking up. Thank you very much. Because I thought that page would be too long to read. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. So this is the, this is that. This is true. The boy turned 10 years old only a few days before the accident. And now he lay in Strickland's Funeral Home in a tiny white coffin. When all the strangers had finished looking at him and sadly shaking their heads, so that all present knew their feelings on the matter, his mother was left alone in the room with the tiny white coffin. Alone, but for me. I lingered behind unseen while the funeral director shooed the others into a room with a sad-faced pastor who was preparing to speak. The mother stood and looked down into the tiny white coffin. Her posture, which had been rigid all morning, went slack at the shoulder and neck. Her hands remained clasped tightly in front of her. The boy was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt and a tie, but he still did not look like a man. I stayed quiet in the shadows so as not to disturb the moment. After time had passed, the funeral director opened the door and quietly let the mother know that her time was up. As she turned to leave, she looked one last time into the tiny white coffin. And then she did a strange thing, a thing that I shall never forget. She straightened the knot on the boy's tie and looked to make sure that it was correct. I took in a fast, jagged gulp of air and slunk into the next room before she noticed me. There were cookies and an urn of coffee on a table in the room. The cookies were awful. None of the cookies contained jelly in the middle, which are widely considered to be the best funeral home cookies. Instead, there were only dry shortbreads. The coffee was black, and there was no cream or milk, just packets of white, yellow powder. When I poured the powder into the styrofoam cup of black, bitter coffee, it just sat in a pile on the top. When I mixed the powder in using a black plastic stick, the coffee turned gray like dishwater. It got me pretty steamed, and I'm sure the rest of the people who had gathered felt the same way.
[Applause]
All went into the adjoining room and took our seats. The tiny white coffin had been placed in the front of the room, and the sad-faced pastor was standing beside him. The sad-faced pastor told us how the boy had not been an ordinary boy. He had been very special. He had been a brother and a son and a grandson and even a great-grandson. I looked over and saw them sitting there, the young and the old and the older and the oldest. The sad-faced pastor told us that some things were very mysterious, but that there was a meaning behind everything, even something as tragic as this. He then asked if anyone had anything they would like to say about the boy. And people came up one at a time to speak about the boy. I decided to go up to speak too, since I had experience in public speaking.
[Applause]
Of course, I wasn't about to do my stand-up. That would be ridiculous. I pulled out the piece of paper with a speech I prepared. And then, just when I was about to read it, I suddenly changed my mind. "Folks," I said, "I have in my hand here a speech I wrote. A speech that's full of big, fancy words, but I'm not going to read it." And I crumpled up my speech and threw it to the floor with contempt. "You don't want to hear a bunch of fancy words, many of them so fancy you wouldn't even understand them. Instead, I will speak from the heart. I have never done such a thing before, but I hear it can be quite effective. So, ladies and gentlemen, bereaved relatives, youngsters who've lost a brother or sister or a friend, the guy in the sad face pastor, costs him, the lady sitting beside him, I figure it's his wife or something. And finally, of course, the guy hanging around at the door wearing a Carolina Panthers jacket. He is clearly in the wrong room, but has the grace to hang in there until the end. I thank you all for coming. I was proud to have known this boy, and I was proud that his last wish in life was to see me do a sketch on the Saturday Night Live program. Although I cannot say I was all that surprised. I'm a very good sketch player. But this is not about me. I really shouldn't be making it about me. But this is the first time I've ever spoken from the heart, so I beg your indulgence. I feel the speech will really start to get good very soon." But it didn't. And I realized something during the next 20 minutes as my speech moved from one inane anecdote to another, none of them having anything to do with the boy. What I realized then was that some guys are very good at speaking from the heart, and some guys just aren't. Doesn't mean one guy's better than the other, just different. So I was honest with the people. "Ladies and gentlemen," I said, "I apologize for this speech. For the last five or six minutes, I've been telling you about Gordie Howe. I think we all know what an awful, awful mistake me speaking from the heart was. So if I may ask your help, let's try to find that speech. You know, the one with the big fancy words that I threw away some minutes ago? It's got to be around here somewhere." "Here it is," a sweet old lady near the front said. "I read it and thought it was very good, especially the part about how we can learn more from the children than they can learn from us." "Oh, excellent," I said. "I'm glad you like that part, because it's the surprise ending." "So that shot," cause I'll just have to read it without the surprise ending. And there appears to be coffee spilled all over it. "Oh, yes," the sweet old lady said. "I spilled coffee all over the darn thing." "Okay, well, I can't make out any of the big fancy words now at all. But it's nobody's fault. I mean, in all fairness, part of it is my fault for crumpling it up and tossing it away so cavalierly." "Hey, you know," I think "cavalierly" might have been one of the big fancy words. "Also, it's partly the sweet old lady's fault for spilling so much coffee on the paper that not a single word can be made out. But we're not here to place blame. I will say this about the young boy in the tiny white coffin. Despite the doctor's dire predictions, the boy was too tough, too resolute, too courageous to let something as small as a deadly disease defeat him. No, the boy was made of stronger stuff than that. And it took much more to defeat him. It took a three-ton municipal bus moving at 40 miles per hour and driven by one Cecil Richard Anderson to defeat this boy." I heard the deepest of sobs and looked down to see a man wearing some sort of bus driver's uniform and being held up by two women. "If you cry, sir," I said, "then cry with envy and not pity. For the boy is in the clouds, and he is one with the clouds. It is we who are left who are reminded on this unacceptable day that life is swift, and yet we are blind to its mighty splendor, which can be found in the simplest of things. Things like a walk in the park, a conversation with a good friend, a deep, rich coffee, leavened with half cream and half milk, and served in a sturdy mug, one with some heft, and with it a delicious cookie that's white and has red jelly in the middle. Thank you for listening. And due to the solemnity of the occasion, I would ask you to hold your applause." From there, we all went to the graveyard. The day was bright and clean, and the cool autumn air filled my lungs and made me feel healthy. A time passed, and then the hearse showed up. The pallbearers were all big men, and they carried the tiny white coffin as if it was very heavy, although it could not have weighed more than 80 or 90 pounds. There was a small hole in the ground and some dirt beside it. We stood in a circle, and a sad-faced pastor said some things in Latin. And then we formed a line. The sun was directly overhead and made the tiny white coffin ever so bright. And I took a handful of dirt and flung it down on top. Then it was the next guy's turn. Afterward, I walked back alone down a long blacktop road, and it was cold. And in the sky, there were white clouds, and they all looked like white clouds and nothing else.
[Music]
I saw that book for the first time on your coffee table, right? Covered. It didn't knock me out. That story. You, you're upset, you know, something like that happened to me. But anyways, on we go. So, uh, there's one other thing I'd like you to read, um, which is, uh, uh, I think a chapter that really struck me. Uh, I'm speaking, you know, totally genuinely. I read this chapter called "The Final Chapter."
"The Final Chapter." Oh, the final, the final chapter. It's called "The Final Chapter." It's not the last chapter. Well, but it's called "The Final Chapter." And it's not quite as, uh, long. It's not funny. I don't think it's funny. But that's, you don't always have to be funny, you know? We're in a house of worship.
I know. Yeah. Um, but I love that chapter because I feel like, no, I was Jewish. You were? I am Jewish. Oh, you were? Yeah. What, what happened? Two years? Well, I, I knew a rabbi. Yeah. Many, many biblical questions when I was young, and they were never answered. When I was Presbyterian, they were never answered by my, my pastors and stuff. And then I met a fellow that was Jewish, and he introduced me to his,
[Music]
to his rabbi. And so if I had a question then, like, one time I had a question about the Lord's Prayer. And I said, there was a line in the Lord's Prayer that said, "Lead us not into temptation." And so I thought that it was without God's ability to lead us into temptation. And, uh, I asked the rabbi the question. I said, "How could God lead us into temptation? It doesn't make sense to me." And he said, "I'll get back to you."
[Applause]
And then you converted. They study, you know, that. Yeah. I went to, uh, so can I set this chapter up briefly?
Sure.
Okay. So what I love about this chapter is that it, to me, um, we taught, you talk about facts and truth and on and on. But this is a very true chapter to me for some reason, even though it was ghostwritten, right?
Right.
Um, so I would like you to read it for everybody.
It wasn't really. Yeah. Um, okay.
Was that what you were going to say?
I, I wanted to say something better. To be totally honest, I'm still kind of moved by it. I mean, you read this "Tiny White Coffin" thing, and we're all laughing, and then you go, "Oh, that, that kind of happened." I mean, that's very, uh, but what did you like about that? What, start again?
Okay. I just find in that chapter, it's so, uh, rare for people to be so aware of their, uh, place in life and so self-aware and to be actually able to...
I was forced to. Yes. I was forced to during the writing of an autobiography, which is, uh, you know, it's your life. I was forced to ask myself questions and, and, you know, find out if I was happy or unhappy or content or welcome to. Or so anyways, that's what I came up with. Yeah. There is the way things are, and then the way things appear. And it is the way things appear, even when false, that is often the truest. If I am remembered, I will always be. If I am remembered, it will always be for my four years I spent at Saturday Night Live. And maybe even more than that, by the events surrounding my departure from that program. As long as SNL exists, then so do I. When people come to see me do stand-up, it is because somewhere in their memory, I live on SNL, dressed as a young Burt Reynolds, insisting Alex Trebek refer to me as "Turd Ferguson." And they come to see me, and I am old and fat, and I don't mention SNL, and I do my answering machine joke, which always does well. And they are happily disappointed. And after the show, they stand beside me and take pictures, the way you would with a donkey at the side of a road.
[Applause]
They tell me they are big fans, and they don't care what their girlfriends say. They understand me, even though they know good and well that no one else does. "I'm dry," they say. "The next time I come to your town, they do not show up." It can be difficult to define yourself by something that happened so long ago, and it's gone forever. It's like a fellow at the end of the bar telling no one in particular about the silver medal he won in high school track, the one he still wears around his neck. The only thing an old man can tell a young man is that it goes fast, real fast. And if you're not careful, it's too late. Of course, the young man will never understand this truth. But looking back now, I can see that my life since SNL has been a full sprint, trying with all my might to outrun the wolves of irrelevancy snapping at my heels. But it has all but been in vain. Of course, they caught and devoured me years ago. But not completely. Lorne would see that my foot would still make a vague imprint. Myself would still cast a faint shadow. And years later, I would write a book, and not only write it, but be in it as well. I think a lot of people feel sorry for you if you are on SNL and emerge from the show anything less than a superstar. They assume you must be bitter. But it is impossible for me to be bitter. I'm, I've been lucky. If I had to sum up my whole life, I guess those are the words I would choose. Though, right? I've been lucky. When I was a boy, I was sure I'd never make it past Moose Creek, Ontario, Canada. But I've been all over this world, except for Europe, Asia, Australia, Africa, and South America. Oh, and Antarctica. But that's really splitting hairs. I mean, how many people have ever been to Antarctica? I never expected to be any more than a common laborer, and I would have considered myself lucky to have achieved that. But I was blessed with so much more. I'm a stand-up comedian, and have been for over a quarter of a century. I performed thousands of hours, from a small club in Ottawa, Ontario, all the way to a small club in Edmonton, Alberta. Sometimes I get big laughs, and I think I'm the best stand-up in the whole world. And other times I bomb, and I think I'm not even in the top five.
[Music]
Before I was famous, I had a whole bunch of jobs where all I needed was boots. People would look right past me in the street, or if they did look at me, it was with a mean look. But when I got famous, people would look at me and smile and wonder where they knew me from. If they flat out recognized me, they'd laugh and dance like they'd won a prize. And I'd just stand there and smile and feel warmth from their love. So the fame made the world, which is a real cold place, a little less cold. And as for my gambling, it is true I lost it all a few times. But that's because I always took the long shot and never came in. But I still have some time before I cross that river. And if you're at the table and you're rolling them bones, there's no money in playing it safe. You have to take all your chips and put them on double six and watch as every eye goes to you, and then to those red dice doing their wild dance, freezing time before finding the cruel green felt. I've been lucky.
[Music]
Beautiful chapter. Thank you for clapping. Yeah. It makes, well, I think you can understand how everybody appreciates you here and elsewhere. We actually have time for some questions. And, um, we'd love for you to, uh, you apparently, we have time for his questions, right? Is that, you know what? No questions from you. Oh, well, I didn't understand that. I, I was confused. Of course, that was a beautiful chapter, though. I just, thank you for reading that because I know that you've only, uh, you don't read that publicly, right?
No.
Thank you. So, uh, all right. So, uh, questions. Yeah. One of my favorite scenes in "Dirty Work" was, uh, you, Artie Lang, and Don Rickles in the movie theater. Can you tell us what it was like working with Don Rickles and filming that scene?
Yeah. Can you hear me? Oh, yeah. John Rickles, he just doesn't give a [ __ ]. So I couldn't tell how much it was an act, how much it wasn't. But his, you know, Rick, I mean, uh, Frank Sinatra, who's one of his best friends, was ill at the time. He was on his deathbed. And by the way, don't buy deathbeds.
[Music]
So they're sure they're cheaper. But, you know, at some point,
[Music]
some things, you know, it's on. So anyways, Mr. Sinatra was on his deathbed, and, uh, you know, was reportedly days from, uh, from moving on. And so, uh, no one knew if we should ask Don how he was doing or bring it up or anything like that. And then I said, "[ __ ] it, I'll ask him." You know? So we were at lunch, and I said, "Hey, uh, have you seen, uh, Frank Sinatra lately?" And he said, uh, "Oh, yeah. It was a lot of fun. We were in the hospital. He was like,"
[Music]
"Good price." So I said, "Well, well, how's he doing?" And he goes, "Yes, let me tell you something. He goes, this is what it's like visiting Frank. I put my head about an inch from his head and I go, 'I'm not Barbara.'" It was his wife. So,
[Applause]
this guy doesn't [ __ ] around.
[Music]
So yeah, a lot of fun. A lot of fun working with, uh, working with the great Don Rickles. Thank you for the question. Yes, sir. Yeah, about your article in the Washington Post, yeah. You wrote this guy, Kent Alterman, President of Comedy Central. Yeah. Why did you let him mock Norm? Mock him? What do you mean? How is Norm Macdonald not on the air? He's the president. Yeah. Well, that doesn't, I don't have the authority to make him put him on the air. I better explain to the folks, but what he's referring to. Oh, uh, well, in the article that we wrote, a profile, um, we, it's a team effort. I have a ghostwriter. Um, well, a friend, uh, very talented. Uh, so the article I wrote, I called the head of Comedy Central because I know he's a fan of Norm's and said, um, "What, you know, what do you think of Norm?" He said, the quote that you said, he said, "It's a crime that he's not on the air." Okay. Now, technically, he has some, actually has some room on the air, right? Yeah. President of companies. Yeah. He's the president. If only I knew some way. Yeah. Right.
[Applause]
[Music]
To undo this. The other thing, all the TV executives say to you, and I love, uh, TV executives. They say, "You just gotta let Norm be Norm." And then you ask Norm, or them, about the show that he did, and they explain how they would not let him be Norm because it would never work. Yeah. But, yes, Seth Meyers has a show. Alan King was on TV. I'm saying, if Norm Macdonald was a member of the tribe, he'd be on TV. Are you speaking English? Who's Marty? Did he say Marty Keane? I believe it was. I believe it was something about Jews running Hollywood. I'm not sure. I've seen an amigo throw his tuna in your face out of the. Thank you. Thank you. Oh my gosh. It's like he was, he could probably, he threw his voice. Almost. It was almost like he was coming from somewhere else. I'm a big fan of incoherence. Over here. I know that stand-up is very personal for the most part. Stand-up? Yes. How, how different is it for you touring, talking about, you specifically? I'm sorry. I can say it one more time. How different, uh, is it for you going around talking about this book, talking about you specifically, versus your take on things?
Yeah, no, it's very difficult. It's not fun. You know, it's a little tough because I grew up in a family not unlike a lot of families of my time where, you know, feelings were not, uh, you know, meant to be expressed, or else your dad would call you gay.
[Music]
My dad never called me gay, but he called me a girl. Yeah. And, uh, so, uh, it's still hard for me. But yeah, this is much more personal. Way more personal than my stand-up comedy. And, you know, we didn't hit on a lot of the book that's incredibly, uh, personal, you know? But yeah, a lot different. A lot different. A lot different. Thank you. Thank you. Thanks for the question. Noah, first of all, thanks for doing this. This is very cool for your fans to come see you in a setting like this.
Oh, that's nice. But it's, it's you and the rest of these people that should be thanked for coming.
So, well, I appreciate it. And, uh, recycled about the book. Glad you got the podcast going again. I had one question. I, I love, and I think everyone here does as well, seeing you when you were on the late night shows. And the last Letterman show that you did, your routine, your routine there, which I still have on my DVR. Is there a story you can share about either leading up to that and your feelings about it, or in the aftermath sense? Because in addition to being very funny, which it was, and you always are, it was obviously very emotional as well. I thought maybe there's something you could share.
Uh, yeah. Well, I had already appeared, what I thought was my last time, four weeks earlier. And I did a panel. You know, I had not done stand-up on the show for a decade or so. So I thought that was my last one. And then Mr. Letterman phoned me and said that he would like me to be...
The last stand up and then we laughed together at how mad Jerry Seinfeld would be. So I worked very, very hard on making it because everybody was acting so cool about Letterman leaving and I didn't think it was cool. I was saddened by it, you know. And because he just meant so much to me, not only personally, my career, but I just think he changed the whole culture and the way people speak and so forth. And I think he was a very, very important person in society. So I didn't feel cool or ironic about it at all.
And so I wanted to, first of all, do as funny, uh, set as I possibly could because I worked very, very hard on it. And then I remembered, uh, when I first ever saw him, ever, which was at a Toronto, um, television show called *90 Minutes Live*, hosted by Pierre Zosky, where the guests were Ricky Gervais and David Letterman. And David Letterman did this joke, and I remembered the joke, and I loved the joke. I told all my friends. So on the show, I did the joke. Then I was overtaken by something. I was hard to get through the joke. And then, uh, I hadn't planned this or anything, but I thought I'd say goodbye to David Letterman because nobody else was doing it, you know. And I felt someone had to say goodbye to him, for goodness sakes. So, uh, so yeah, then when I said goodbye to him, uh, I got really sad, you know. That was that was a great moment and obviously very heartfelt.
And, um, again, thanks for doing this. Thank you for the question. I just want to say thank you for all of your work that you've done and all the work that you're hopefully going to do going forward. Um, I love the, uh, the *Just for Laughs* thing you did way back. And and wow, um, the ESPN awards. Yes, your shirt on a long time ago. Yeah. I just wanted to know, um, when you were writing the book and having trouble writing the book, did you find any strength or solace, uh, in knowing that if that lazy Artie Lang can write a book, that you could do well?
I, I did. Uh, I find solace in the fact that writing a celebrity memoir was, you know, you'd have to go to a [ __ ] limbo place to find a lower bar, you know. [Music] So I didn't think, I didn't think it would be that difficult. Thank you. Thank you for the question. Thanks for buying that t-shirt. Yeah. All right, we've got nine more minutes of questions. I want to keep this right because everybody wants to get their books out. Yeah, yeah, yeah. All right. Um, go.
Hello. I'll just start by saying the same thing everybody else has said. Thank you for coming out here. On a personal note, you, more than probably anybody, shaped Mike's sort of comic sensibility. When I was growing up, I sort of idolized you. I'm an old man. Yeah. He's, he's 53. A [ __ ] bald guy. I don't know what to say. But that's very nice. Do thank you. My younger brother and I, when we were young, we got a video camera and we recreated your, the, the David Letterman sketch from SNL where you said, "You got any gum?" Oh, yeah, yeah. Two years ago, when my boss, uh, retired, I, giving you credit, of course, I lifted your Bob Saget roast routine wholesale and applied it to her, removing some of the more questionable things. Did that work?
It did. It actually killed. It did really, really well. I asked because it didn't work for me. But my question is, um, you're one of the more, one of the most kind of like literate comedians out there. You can, especially with the book, I'm almost pretty much done reading it, and you can turn a phrase more than in, in ways that are more unique than anybody I've really read. And at the same time, you can have things, you know, where like you talk about dead hookers in the trunk and dirty work. How do you find yourself able to sort of, um, move between those two modes of comedy where you do sort of like hyper-literate, uh, really turns and phrases, and then sort of the more stuff that was in like *Dirty Work*? Um, I think *Dirty Work* was very literate. But where do you learn these fancy words and these interesting ways of turning the phrase? I think that's what he was trying to say. Well, yeah, I don't know. Well, you read a lot.
I read a lot. Like, I'm, as you know, completely uneducated. I dropped out of self-educated school when I was a boy. But you can't teach yourself. It makes no [ __ ] sense. I've always heard that, you know, that guy's street smart. He might not know about Newton or Einstein, but he knows about a felony, Bob. But you read a lot. Bill, yes, I do read a lot. I think, you know, to, I wish I was educated so I could write a book properly, but I read an enormous amount. And, uh, I'm sort of obsessed with reading. So I think that helped a lot, you know. Thank you. Thank you so much. Uh, hey Norm, as a, as a sports fan, I was wondering if you caught the ESPN O.J. documentary and if that changed any of your opinions, maybe maybe thought O.J. was now more of a murderer because you were a huge supporter O.J. did I [Applause] when no one else would speak on his behalf. You?
Well, that's the only time I ever did jokes, uh, because, you know, I, I try to have make comedy with no agenda. And I hate political comedians and political come. I try to make just pure comedy. But that was the only time that I felt moral outrage and righteous indignation over over what was happening. And, uh, and it slithered its way into the jokes. Slithered. I like that. Um, so, uh, did you watch the, uh, either of the? Yeah, I watched both the *30 for 30* and the John Travolta vehicle that was acclaimed. It was, it was acclaimed. I think so. Yeah, that John Travolta, yeah, yeah, David Schwimmer. Yeah. And you know what I liked about that is like that David Schwimmer played Kardashian, Rob Kardashian. And so it would open and it would be him with his two daughters and they'd go, "Hey Daddy, you were recognized today." Let me tell you something about fame. Children, fame is fleeting. [Laughter] And so anytime the story flagged a little, they'd go, "Hey, where's the, where is the Chloe, man?" These children. All right, two more questions. I'm curious what. But you want more? No, I feel sorry for. I feel bad for them too. But it's your event. But, but, you know, the people need all signing and stuff. And, yeah, three more. Three more questions. There's seven people. How about seven questions? Yeah. All right. If that's what they say. Hey, how about eight more questions? All right, slow down. All right, no more. Nobody else in the line. It's like the ice cream truck. The man is going to drive away. Okay, but make them tight, tight questions. Okay, great. Uh, what was your father's favorite joke?
My father's favorite joke? Well, he had a joke. Roses are gray. Violets are gray. Tulips are gray. Because I'm a dog. Thank you. That was close. Yeah. Um, it's like a lightning round. Hi Norm, you're not going to be here next week. So in advance to both you and Jeff, uh, I mean, you have a sweet new year. Um, my question is maybe a little, just a little closer. Um, my question is to the English language. I'm sorry. What's wrong with you? He's a nice man. We had trouble understanding. Yeah, I don't know for sure. Um, so along the O.J. lines, um, did you ever end up actually meeting anyone related to the trial or anything like that? Did you ever meet anyone related to the trial or the trust? Yeah, or, um, and if you didn't, then could you answer, or could you finish your anecdote that you were, um, unceremoniously interrupted with, the, uh, leading into temptation?
I did. So I don't have to do that anecdote. Oh, fantastic. I, I did. Yes. When I was doing the program, the *Saturday Night Live* program, and they said, "O.J. Simpson, somebody like that, yeah, is in the audience." And we had an O.J. joke. Yeah. And the, the poor daughter, uh, was in the crowd, you know. Seems like a bad place to be. Yeah. You know, it's so, it's just very tough. I say, "Can I really do this joke?" I said, "Sure. Why didn't I?" [Music] Thank you. Okay. Yeah, hopefully that answers your question fully. So, uh, on *Weekend Update* when you anchored, uh, Frank Stallone was often a punchline. Did he know it was coming, or did you ever talk to him?
But I talked to his brother, Sylvester Stallone, who hosted the show. And he was like, "What the [ __ ] with Frank?" [Music] So I said that, you know, it's a complete non-sequitur. It's it's ridiculous, you know. And so he told me, you know, he says, "The thing with Frank is, you know, after *Rocky*, he decided to become a boxer." So, you know, he'd go in the ring. What did he say? The, let's say, like, "The Italian Stallion's brother." Because every boxer from Philadelphia, you just beat the [ __ ] out of it. [Music] Because you've never been right since. And I feel guilty about it because if you could just lay off him for a while. And I was like, so I never did another, um.
I know some comedians have described themselves as being not terribly happy people off the stage, but finding doing stand-up to be a pretty therapeutic experience. Do you view it that way, or what's the importance of performing stand-up to you personally?
Um, no, I'm not sad at all off stage. Is comedy? Let me, let me rephrase that. Do you find that comedy is a catharsis for your meaningless existence? [Music] Is that better? Sorry. Uh, yeah, I know there's this idea. What's that story about, you know, the guy goes to the psychiatrist? "I'm very depressed." You know, I remember that story. And you must see Pagliacci. I tell all my patients, no matter how depressed they are, they go, "When they see Pagliacci, and then they are happy afterwards." And the guy says, "I have Pagliacci." So anyways, I'm nowhere near as funny as Pagliacci. No, I'm happy. And I, no, I don't find, uh, stand-up as much, uh, therapy as I know, I know a lot of people do. But, um, but I don't know how. What I find stand-up, really, it makes me happy when I'm out there. And then immediately when I leave, I'm a little bit sad, I guess. And, uh, so that's helpful. Answers have to be good. Well, I mean, we're as we're seeing. No, no, yeah. Uh, sometimes I begin a sentence hoping that the, the end of the sentence, it sometimes works out for you.
Hi, hi Norm. Thank you for being here. Thank you for dressing so well. Great. Uh, so my question, you're in Washington D.C. So my question is, you, uh, hosted the White House Correspondents' Dinner, oh yeah, two years ago. Uh, any reaction to that? Any stories about that? Anything, uh, you'd like to share?
Well, they always have a, a funny guest at the Correspondents' Dinner, you know, somebody in the news in some way. It'll be, you know, uh, Monica Lewinsky, or, you know what I mean? They'll have a, they'll invite us. And this year that I did it, they invited Larry Flynt, the hardcore pornographer. So I met him, you know, he was in his wheelchair with his funny way of talking. And, uh, you never feel fully comfortable around there unless you're a very good person, you know. I mean, good like Jesus Christ of Nazareth. Yeah. So anyways, he says to me, he says to me, he says, "You know where I'm right, right? I'll take care of I." Said, "You'll take care of me." So then, like, in my head, I was like, "What the [ __ ] does it mean to be taken care of by Larry Flynt?" Because, you know, like, if my Aunt Ida said, you know, "I'll, you know, come to come down to Manitoba and I'll take care of you," that would mean she would make a nice strawberry rhubarb pie and we'd talk, you know. But Larry Flynt, I imagine it would include me and a couple of ladies and then, him, uh, showing up in a wheelchair. Don't ever do. Never do that. Not, not in, not here. This is a nightclub. All right, that's good. All right, let's, let's shuffle through these. Quite. Yes. All right.
One of your lesser known, but my one of my favorite things you've ever done is a commercial you did for the Man. Great God. That's an online only thing. Don't you? They got like 100,000, maybe a couple of million views. And I just want to know, did they ever come around to your interpretation of their ad and their product?
No. What he's referring to is I have, I have this podcast that, you know, I do this podcast. I don't make any money off it. And then they're like, "Dude, this commercial." I'm like, "[ __ ] I don't even make any money." And, uh, so there's this goddamn thing called a man, grace, and weighed like 100 pounds. It was supposed to be some sort of cooking device for steak. And I had to read all this thing, and I couldn't even lift it. I was like sweating. And, uh, talk about what it was. And then I, I don't know, it gets, it gets very colorful. Like, what? It gets very colorful. It gets very colorful. Yeah. And I'm not going to say what I, what I said here in a house of worship. But no, they never came around to seeing the, uh, that sponsorship ended. That sponsorship ended, uh, without amicability. Okay. Thank you. Uh, two more.
So about 20 years ago, yes sir, you and Courtney Thorne-Smith were on Conan on the same night. Did anyone on stage that night know that you were going to take over her interview? And if any of them did, not what was it like afterwards?
It wasn't. It wasn't. What it was like, what he was referring to is that I was the first guest, and then Courtney Thorne-Smith came on, who was on *Melrose Place*, and decided to leave *Melrose Place* to co-star in a movie with Carrot Top. So, [Music] *Chairman of the Board*, right? Yeah. So it stunned me, you know. I said, "Would anyone?" And, uh, I was like, "Wait a minute. You left? Wait, wait, wait." You know, I couldn't figure it out. And, uh, as, as it pertains to what happened afterwards, it's not what happened directly afterwards. It is that when I did it, there were no computers. And so I did not know that it would live on forever. Back then, you would just say things. People in general vicinity would hear them, and then they would forget them. But, but now I really have to, I really have to make that phone call to Carrot [ __ ] rip too. Yeah, I know. Thank you. All right, thank you.
And last question. It's about time. I say, seriously. Um, so I opened your book and I saw Slash's name in there. And so I was wondering, yeah, so I was wondering when you write about other famous people, do you have to get their permission first, or is it like, whatever?
Well, you do have to get their permission normally. But, uh, but, uh, my book editor, Joe Beltry, was right there. Stand up, Joe. Is he standing up? Stand up. That's not standing. Huh? Why? Wait, there he is. A great, great strategy, which was that we would not need permission as long as we made something so outrageously insane that the actual true things, you know. So, for instance, if somebody came and said, "Hey, wait a minute, I never did that. I never would do anything like that." I could say, "What are you talking about? The devil's in the book." You know, I mean, like, it's just a big crazy book. And then you go, "But I really did it." And I go, "Yeah, I know. But I won't stand up in court." Joe Beltry, I'll tell you so himself. Thank you. They'd be scared because they'd hear the name Joe Beltry and nobody wants to hear that name in the world. He's an agent and an attorney. Yeah, yeah. He's an agent and an attorney. Thank you. All right. You did that better. You got a joke for that? No, I don't. You don't? No. You see how hard it is? Thank you for the final question. Yeah.
We got through that. I mean, it's a little later than they told me it was supposed to be. But look, um, thank you all for coming. We're just so lucky to have Norm in this setting. I hope we get him back sometime soon. Right? And you're going to sign, sign the books, right? Yeah. Buying books. Yes. Anybody wants their books signed, why, that would be fine. And good.