Bob Newhart attends the Series Finale Party for CBS' 'The Big Bang Theory' at The Langham Huntington, Pasadena on May 1, 2019 in Pasadena, California.Alberto E. Rodriguez/Getty Images
The one who laughs last didn’t get the joke. But what about the last one to tell a joke? The American stand-up comedian Bob Newhart was part of the Las Vegas scene in the 1960s. Most of the entertainers of that era are long gone now. At the age of 89, the 2002 recipient of the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor still does occasional stand-up appearances. From his home in Los Angeles, he spoke to The Globe and Mail about being the last comic standing.
In his words
I was thinking the other day about the camaraderie among stand-up comedians. We’re kind of like skydivers. You can only talk to another skydiver about what it’s like to jump out of a plane and to hope that the chute opens. For me, it’s always opened so far.
When Don Rickles died a couple of years ago, I was reminded of all the guys who worked Vegas. It was a wonderful time. You hung out together. Shecky Greene is still alive, but I’m not sure if he’s still working. I think I’m the last Vegas guy left.
When I first played clubs, there would be a notice on your dressing-room mirror that said the club owner had the right to request you don’t use certain swear words. That was it; you were conditioned to that. Today, I’m not sure anything is verboten.
I think Richard Pryor was the most influential comedian in the past 50 years. Without question. The language he used, to me, was not shocking. Because it was used within a framework. But when you use language to shock, that’s a perversion of it. When you’re Richard Pryor, you were using the language of the inner city. I expected to hear those words. I would have felt cheated if he said “gosh darn it” or “gee whiz.” That’s not being true.
The words themselves I don’t find offensive. I was in the service. I didn’t choose to use them, but I knew the words. Mostly because when I was in the army they were often directed at me.
Jerry Seinfeld and I have talked about this. I do a clean show. There’s a satisfaction to that. The audience had a great time. You get a standing ovation and you hadn’t had to resort to shock.
A few years ago, I was asked what I do before a show. I said that about 6 o’clock I start to pace. I’ll be in my room walking. You’re thinking, “Is this the routine that isn’t going to work? Is this the show you’ve been dreading for so long?”
There’s the story about the comedian who was telling another comedian about opening for Steve and Eydie. After he did his act, he said, the audience kept applauding. When Steve and Eydie asked the audience if they wanted him to come back out, they applauded some more. He said the same thing happened when he had opened for Tony Bennett.
But, a few days later, he said, he had played a club and didn’t get a laugh the whole show. The other comedian said, “Yeah, I heard about that.” So, you’re only as good as your last show. It’s a form of Russian roulette. You spin the chamber and hope for the best. That’s why you do it, though. It’s weird, but it’s true. You ask yourself if this going to be the one. And avoiding that is the satisfaction.