Photo credit Natalie Brasington
If you haven’t heard of Kathleen Madigan, you haven’t been listening hard enough.
The St. Louis-born comedian has appeared countless times on The Late Show with David Letterman, Late Night with Conan O’Brien, and The Nightly Show with Larry Wilmore. Kathleen's second hour special Madigan Again is currently available on Netflix.
St. Louisans have an added incentive to see the McCluer North grad when she appears at the Peabody next Saturday. They’ll hear references to Cardinals baseball, Imo’s pizza, toasted ravioli, and “Narth” County, where Madigan grew up.
And for those still on the fence: There’s no NLCS baseball scheduled for that night. (Tickets are $32 (plus service fee) and available here.)
The comedian recently reflected on growing up in St. Louis and her frequent trips back to Missouri.
First, is it comedians or comediennes? And remember, the PC police are listening.
Comedians, please. Comediennes is a lot of extra letters, and everybody spells it wrong.
You spend time performing on the road, in Los Angeles and in Missouri. You were at the Lake of the Ozarks not long ago.
That was just before my 50th birthday. I have siblings there. My parents live there. I still have a condo there. At the lake in September, everyone clears out, the weather's perfect, and the water's warm.
I saw a recent tweet of yours that showed a bunch of kids, looking at you from the front of a boat, that read, “Happy early birthday to me. Who wants a Bud Light? Oh wait, I meant Capri Sun…”
My nieces and nephews. I didn’t really care about the adults…or my parents. It’s like, I’ve seen you for 50 years. We’ve got new faces here.
What's it like turning 50?
I say this to every comedian who turns 50: 'We made it. We’re not in an insane asylum or dead. So I think we’ve done fine.'
You went to high school in St. Louis for several years. Were you a good student or the wisecracking kid in the back row?
Actually, I spent most of my time in the smoking area… McCluer North was loosey-goosey enough to put in a really nice smoking place for us right next to the football field. I also worked a lot, as a server at the Stuart Anderson’s on Dunn Road. At 16, a ridiculous amount of money fell out of my pockets at night. Plus, we had health insurance and paid vacations. I got to meet the guy once—cowboy hat and all. It was like meeting Ronald McDonald.
What did you do with your tip money?
I saved up for college. I bought a car. I could have had my own apartment. That’s why I bailed on so many school activities. Go to prom? I don’t think so—woulda cost me a $200 shift.
Are you an Imo’s pizza lover?
When I left the lake, I took an Imo’s pepperoni pizza to one of my friends, a guy who worked at the Fox for many years. I bought it, froze it, put it in my carry-on, and delivered it to the happiest guy in the world. It’s the first thing I eat when I go home. People either love it or hate it. I love it.
Did you hear that Imo’s bought a large piece of property downtown and is moving all their corporate offices there?
And I’m fairly sure I paid for at least a doorknob.
What’s the weirdest memory from St. Louis?
Going to Lombardo’s in North County. When I was a kid, they had a lot of wakes there. I remember getting just a little bit excited when somebody died because that meant I got to go at Lombardo’s.
What's your best memory of St. Louis?
I still make it a point to go to Tucker’s in Soulard for an ice cold Bud Light and toasted ravioli while sitting at the bar. The best part is listening to the old, retired guys. They don’t care what they say, how loud they say it, or who they offend.
Are you still a Cardinal fan?
Oh, yeah. If I’m on stage and I know the Cardinals are playing, the thought rolls through my head, ‘Wow. It’s the seventh inning. I wish I could wrap this up.’ My dad is worse. For one playoff game, he was in town to see my act and said, ‘Uh, do you mind if we don’t actually come to your show?’ I said, ‘Go to the game, Dad. I’ll tell you the new jokes in the car.’
Is working in St. Louis easier or harder than in other cities?
Onstage it’s great, but it is more work, because a big group ends up going out after the show. One time, we drank Duff’s completely out of Bud Light, and I got blamed for it. So I apologized for not having Clydesdales and a beer wagon outside.
You’re on the road all the time. Does travel ever get old?
No, I’m in Colorado now, and outside my window it looks like Gorillas in the Midst. It’s awesome. Someday, though, I will write a travel book—secret little things I learned by accident, but valuable little tips, all of them.
Will it be serious or funny?
Both. For instance, I remember 10 years ago I was traveling with Rick, another comedian. We were checking in to like a Marriott for five nights, and the gal at the desk informs us that there was a $250 fine for smoking in the room. Rick said, 'Is that for the whole week or just a night?' She looked at him like he was a degenerate and said, 'Well, uh, no one has ever asked that before, sir.' And he said, 'Well, then I guess we have a deal.' It was winter, it was cold, and he whispered to me, 'I found a loophole. I’m gonna splurge.'
Was there an aha! moment when you knew that comedy was a viable career?
It was probably when the Funny Bone comedy club let me go on the road for them 40 weeks a year. I was only 23. If it didn’t work out after a year or so, I figured I’d come back home, and if pressed to explain that gap in my resume, I’d say, ‘Well, I had a really bad flu for awhile.’
So it was an easy decision.
I knew comedians who were engineers. My best friend, Lew Black, went to Yale. One guy went to Harvard Law School… Really? Didn’t that place close like after Love Story… I don’t know one person who went there. He might as well have said he went to Narnia. Me, I really didn’t risk much to become a comedian. I had a journalism degree.
Lewis Black called you “the funniest comedy in America, bar none.” Whose act would you go see?
Depends on my mood that night. If I wanted to use my brain, it’s Lew [Lewis Black]. If I wanted complete nonsense, I’d go see Carrot Top. Family stuff, it’s [Jim] Gaffigan. If I’m in the mood for some good drinking stories, I go and see Ron White. Wanda [Sykes] is funny every time. And I know it sounds funny, but Joy Behar is very funny as a stand-up.
You’re now doing specials, airing on Netflix. Is that the new template for you?
There is no template that is going to last. It’s not how you get it out there, but that you get it out there and make it easy-ish to find. Netflix has been a big help for us because you can always find what you’re looking for. It’s always on.
Do you still do USO shows?
Absolutely I do. The first time Lew said he was going to Iraq and Afghanistan and asked me to go, I said, ‘Wait a minute. Are you the new Bob Hope? Is that how America is transitioning?’ Wherever there are troops, there are still shows going on, with the biggest audiences ever.
Do you ever show up unannounced at small venues to try out some jokes?
Normally, I’m there just to see the act. If I did do that—say I was appearing soon on a late night show—I would ask the headliner if I could run a few new jokes and if the answer was no, that was fine. It's not my set.
How do comedians deal with political correctness?
Onstage, they ignore it. Personally, now, I could say something as simple as ‘Go Cards!’ in a tweet and immediately hear from a rash of haters. I remember one comedian who thought he’d get back at his haters by mentioning them all in a YouTube Video. One of them commented back, ‘Boo! Bitch,’ and the guy saluted him by saying, ‘Now that man managed to insult me twice with only two words.’
Does political correctness ever affect your act?
No, because I never say anything too controversial or political to begin with. My comedy is not challenging. I’m not trying to change your mind. I’m just here to give you a mental vacation for an hour and a half. I’m the lady at the end of the bar.
