"Exploring Laughter as Therapy : Greg Proops Shares Heartfelt Comedy Stories and Insights on Comedy Saved Me with Lynn Hoffman"
66 min
•Feb 16, 20263 months agoSummary
Greg Proops, comedy legend and Whose Line Is It Anyway? star, discusses how comedy shaped his life, his journey from San Francisco's 1980s comedy scene to international stages, and the responsibility comedians have to challenge power and speak truth. He emphasizes authenticity, continuous reinvention, and the healing power of laughter in turbulent times.
Insights
- Comedy serves as both personal therapy and social commentary—performers must balance entertainment with meaningful critique of power structures
- Longevity in creative fields requires constant reinvention and willingness to challenge oneself rather than relying on past success
- Live performance and direct audience interaction remain irreplaceable for developing authentic comedic voice, despite digital platforms
- Ensemble work requires ego management and understanding group dynamics—knowing when to lead and when to serve the collective
- Artists have a duty to reflect their times and maintain integrity; financial success should not compromise artistic responsibility
Trends
Shift from traditional stand-up apprenticeship models to digital-first comedy development lacking live audience feedbackIncreasing scrutiny of comedians performing for authoritarian regimes despite financial incentivesGrowing expectation for comedians to address social justice and political issues rather than purely entertainment-focused materialResurgence of ensemble and group comedy formats as antidote to individualistic social media comedyImportance of diverse voices and perspectives in comedy as marker of industry maturity and cultural relevanceMental health and substance abuse issues in comedy industry becoming more openly discussed and normalizedFilm club and curated content models emerging as alternative revenue and engagement strategies for established comediansEmphasis on physical comedy and vaudeville traditions being reclaimed by modern improvisational performers
Topics
Improvisational Comedy Techniques and TrainingStand-Up Comedy as Social CommentaryEnsemble Comedy and Group DynamicsComedy Industry Ethics and ResponsibilityDigital vs. Live Performance in Comedy DevelopmentComedic Voice Development and AuthenticityComedy History: 1960s-1980s EvolutionInfluence of Television on Comedy (Laugh-In, Whose Line)Political Comedy and SatireMental Health and Substance Abuse in EntertainmentCareer Longevity and Reinvention StrategiesComedy Education and MentorshipVaudeville and Physical ComedyPodcast Production and Alternative Revenue ModelsDiversity and Inclusion in Comedy
Companies
I Heart Media
Podcast network distributing Comedy Saved Me and other shows featuring Greg Proops
IBM
Corporate client for whom Greg performed a difficult corporate gig in Southern Turkey in the 1990s
Lionsgate
Film studio mentioned in context of Steve Mnuchin's board appointment despite controversial background
People
Greg Proops
Comedy legend and primary guest discussing his career, philosophy, and impact on comedy
Lynn Hoffman
Host of Comedy Saved Me podcast conducting interview with Greg Proops
Jennifer Proops
Greg's wife who co-hosts podcast and curates film club; provides creative and editorial guidance
Robin Williams
Identified as major influence on Greg's improvisational style and as founder of alternative comedy venues
Jonathan Winters
Cited as benchmark for improvisation; Greg interviewed him twice and treasures autographed memorabilia
Mike McShane
College friend and fellow Whose Line cast member who helped recruit Greg for the show
John Sessions
British improviser and fellow cast member on original UK version of Whose Line
Josie Lawrence
British improviser and cast member; remains friend and collaborator with Greg
Tom Kenny
Road comic partner with Greg in 1980s; voice of SpongeBob SquarePants
Will Durst
Unofficial mentor to Greg; influenced his approach to political comedy and material development
Wade Haggard
Sixth-grade language arts teacher who fostered Greg's creative development through weekly performance assignments
Groucho Marx
Early influence on Greg; admired for off-the-cuff genius and interview format comedy
Bill Hicks
Uncompromising stand-up comic who influenced Greg's philosophy about authenticity and responsibility
George Carlin
Cited as comedy idol who exemplified responsibility to say something meaningful through comedy
Richard Pryor
Identified as comedy idol exemplifying social commentary and authenticity
Lily Tomlin
Cited as comedy idol who exemplified responsibility and meaningful social commentary
Nina Simone
Quoted for philosophy that artist's duty is to reflect the times they live in
David Bowie
Cited for philosophy on reinvention, authenticity, and maintaining creative discomfort
Doris Lessing
Quoted for perspective that world will never get less crazy, encouraging artists to create now
Paddy Poundstone
Early San Francisco comedy scene performer who influenced the era's ethos
Quotes
"Robin Williams was our Elvis. So we had Robin and he meant sub referencing vaudeville, dick jokes and intellectual and politically challenging all at once."
Greg Proops•Mid-episode
"The reason you started was you felt you had something to say. And so when you start to co-op that and say what you think people want you to say, then you lose the initial. You lose your soul."
Greg Proops (quoting David Bowie)•Late episode
"An artist's duty is to reflect the times they live in."
Greg Proops (quoting Nina Simone)•Late episode
"There's never a time the world is a stable, safe place where you're going to be able to find a warm cubby hole. The world is a chaotic fucking mess. And so you have to push forward as an artist and do what you're going to do."
Greg Proops•Final segment
"Enjoyment is what they want to take away from us. They want to take away from us the moment where we feel good about ourselves. Or, well said, you know, fascism is all about debasement."
Greg Proops•Late episode
Full Transcript
Comedy Saved Me. Welcome to Comedy Saved Me. I'm your host, Lynn Hoffman, and today we are joined by the brilliant and incomparable Greg Proups. He's a comedy legend, celebrated for his razor-sharp wit and improvisational genius. On both sides of the pond, on both the British and American versions of Whose Line Is It Anyway, one of my all-time favorite shows, his distinct stand-up blends pop culture, social observation, and intellectual humor. And his acclaimed podcast, The Smartest Man in the World, has earned a devoted global following. I believe they also call that the Proupcast that he regularly does with his hilarious wife Jennifer. From his roots in the San Francisco comedy scene to international stages alongside comedy giants, Greg has built a fearless, authentic career that continues to inspire. And today we're going to dive into how comedy shaped his life, gave him purpose, and ultimately saved him. This is Comedy Saved Me. And boy, are you lucky you're here. We have the one and only Greg Proups right after this. This is an I Heart podcast. Guaranteed human. Welcome, Greg Proups to Comedy Saved Me. It is so exciting. Are we, could we technically be halfway in the fortress of Prupatude right now? Yes, we are. And welcome. This is the fortress. I of course have this backdrop behind me at all times. I was very thrilled by your intro. I don't know who wrote it, but it's excellent. It's better than the bio that I wrote for myself. Wow. Well, thank you. Thank you. I mean, you deserve it. And really, you were huge inspiration to so many people, including myself with comedy. The improv thing is like one of the best, one of my favorite types of comedy I think is improvisational. And I couldn't get enough of your show. I have to know this. First, it's so nice to meet you. It's nice to meet you, Lynn. Or as you're known to your friends, Willie. That's right. It says I'm using my husband's Zoom, so everyone sees me as Willie B. What was your first, Greg, what was your first memory of being captivated by comedy when you were a kid growing up in Arizona? I don't know that I'm very, very first, but Laugh-in, I think, was something that was really important to me when I was little. I'm a child of the 60s, and I was a little kid when it came on. And for me, it was really exciting because it was the first television show where there was no attempt to do anything else but jokes. You know, everyone's small. They'd sing and stuff. They'd sing funny songs or whatever. But there was no, you know, when you're little, the boring part, the kissy part, the drama part got me. And then Laugh-in came, and it was just rapid fire. And so I think I really love that. And I ended up, of course, loving everybody on the show, and I love that experience. And I think, let's go with that. I mean, I'm going to say that it was the first, it was on Monday nights, and then I think I Dream of Jeannie was on afterward. And I don't think I ever missed an episode. You know, it was on from the time I was like seven or eight to like 11 or 12, you know? So that's like formative comedy years. And by then we were already writing sketches in school and stuff in grade school. So, you know. You were already writing comedy sketches in grade school? I had a great fifth grade teacher. You know how important teachers are, Lynn, despite what the government will tell you? My fifth and sixth grade teachers were really superb. And I had a sixth grade teacher named Mr. Haggard, who passed away a couple of years ago. We were back in contact again, which was amazing. And I'm not the only one who felt this way about him. I know other kids from my class. He had a bunch of bright kids in his class. Yes, I'm including myself. And he, I think maybe out of just to entertain himself or it was his teaching style or whatever, he gave us a different assignment. This is the 60s every week, early 70s. We would do a radio show one week, a one act play another week, a sketch show the next week, a talent show, a composition book where we had a list of topics we could pick from, all these different things. And so we would get up and perform for each other at the end of the week. It would start on the Monday and then by the end of the week. So I remember having to write and host and produce and direct all these little things when I was 10, 11. And it really blew my mind open as far as what you could do with. And of course, we always went for humor. You know, we never try. If we even were doing a serious topic, we did. I remember we did, I think Mark Twain's funeral or something. You know, this is the stuff we were learning in sixth grade. And we made it a comedy sketch, you know, where they're talking about how he was dead and what he did and all this jazz and stuff. So I think that was really important to my outlook to have one, an adult that gave us enough rope and enough leeway and was confident in our intellect and emotions that we could express ourselves in a creative way every week in a different format. Was it a theater class? No, it was language arts. It was what they called it in the school district I went to. I think you'd call it English. Yeah. No, and his name was Wade Haggard and he did it. And I paired up with my buddy, Forest, all the time. You could pair up with whoever you wanted, but we all tended to go to the same cliques. And then I ended up being in a comedy duo with my friend, Forest. Of course, when we were in our teens and early twenties. And it was definitely because we'd learned to write sketches together when we were little kids. I am so jealous that you got, I remember even like when I got to college years and they only had, you know, the same theater class you could take over. I took it twice just because I wanted to learn it. And the fact that you're in sixth grade and the teachers fostering this for you and teaching you different ways of, that's pretty remarkable. I was lucky that way. I think I really was. I don't know where he came from. He was Southern and he ended up in our district and I got really lucky with him because I don't know that the education system, I love teachers, but I don't know that the education system fosters individual initiative and creativity as much as it might. And there's a lot of orthodoxy and there's a lot of repetitive, you know, do what everyone else is doing and try not to stand out kind of thing. And I don't think that really is a brilliant way to get children to feel comfortable with being creative, you know. And I mean, look at the thwarted artists that have destroyed the world. As what was his name? Jermaine from the Flat of the Concords brilliantly said, Stalin was a thwarted poet, Hitler was a thwarted painter, support the arts. Steve Bannon was a thwarted screenwriter, you know. Can you tell me some of your favorite comedians growing up outside of Laugh-In? Were there any improvisational or how did you first realize that was the type of comedy and then who did you really love to watch? Well, when I was a little kid, all the old comics were still on TV, which was fantastic. Milton Perle and Jack Benny and George Burns. They were still alive and they were still kicking around. They also showed reruns of You Bet Your Life with Groucho Marx in the Bay Area when I was a little kid, old black and white ones. And so I guess you Groucho and I always felt like he off the cuff was genius, which he was. And the format of that show was they would have regular people come on and Groucho would just sit there and interview them. And that was about half there. There was a game, ostensibly, attached to the show. They would play a game. But really it was just Groucho riffing with regular people. And he'd sit there with a cigar and he'd make jokes with them. And I thought that was genius. And then Jonathan Winners, who in my opinion is the king of improvisation and next to Robin, I think. I don't think there's been anyone as influential and more. And the thing about Robin and Jonathan, and I met Jonathan several times and I had the pleasure of being a very good acquaintance with Robin because I'm from San Francisco, was that they didn't need no group. Like we're in a group. So I'm in a band. And when you're in a band, it makes it a little easier because you can always, you know, catch me. Playing with the other people. Yeah. Exactly. Exactly. We can pass the ball. But I felt like there was a Jonathan had a summer replacement show when I was probably seven or eight. And he would get up in front of the audience and say, give me something. And someone would go, oh, you're being pulled over by a cop. And then he would start his thing. You know, now I'm too young to have seen him on Jack Parr. Jack Parr had him on all the time. And Jack Parr would hand Jonathan Winters a stick or a pen or something and go, Johnny, do something with this. And Jonathan would, you know, and start his thing. So I really feel like he was the benchmark for improv because of his inventive mind, his insane references like Robin. You know, Robin had the two things they both have were absolute instant and total recall of everything they ever were exposed to and a serious human conscience. Robin and Jonathan are humanists who were liberals at heart and loved people. They both had issues with their parents. They both had issues with the world. They both had issues with substances and through it all, the humanity is what comes through. And I said to Jonathan Winters, I said, I got to interview him twice at his home and I brought my wife with me because I knew that if I brought a woman along and I had a woman engineer, I knew if he had a couple of women in the audience, he would go crazy. And he did. Because a couple of good looking chicks and he was off to the bloody races, you know. And it was filthy and it was urbane and it was nasty. I mean, cutting. Not dirty, but edgy. And I said to him, we were talking about other comics, Lenny Bruce and Mort Saul, because he started the same year as both of them, 1952. And I said, you're in the same class. And he went, I consider myself one of them. I consider myself a satirist, right? He didn't think of himself as a clown, a funny clown. He thought of himself in the same breath as Mort Saul and Lenny Bruce, who are always held up as the epitome of social commentary. Right, right. But he did it a different way. His policemen are horrible and cruel, but he does it with a funny voice. His politicians are billious. His children are self-absorbed and over-sexualized. His old ladies are randy. And he got away with all that because he was cute, you know. Randy. I mean, he'd do old ladies and go, my first husband was Italian. My God, that man was hairy. You know, like, and it was so lurid. And then I said to him, it's turning into a thing about Jonathan, but that's fine because he was a genius. The one of the best of all time. Right. I brought a book along. I have it somewhere here. Anyway, it was a picture of him in Flip Wilson in drag, right? Flip Wilson doing Geraldine and Jonathan doing Mod Fricker. Jonathan Winters used to do an old lady character and he would wear a white wig. He looked like Whistler's mother. And he said, I showed him the photo and he was like, oh, Flip Wilson. And he said, I had to cut back on doing Mod because it was taking over. And I said, I stopped him and I went taking over with whom the audience or you. And he went with me. Oh. So I think at a certain point he couldn't stop. He just became the character even in regular life. Oh, he could channel all that that that naughtiness through her. And also his mental state was always, you know, he was on the edge, I think, you know, he knew that he was kind of manicky and, you know, he drank a lot. And I brought a bunch of the albums and books that he had written and I, he autographed them for me and I still have them. I treasure them. And he wrote in books for me and Jennifer and everything. And I asked him about a bunch of the albums and he went, I was real loaded when I made those and then I quit, you know. Wow. That must have been shocking for you to even hear because you just don't, they're like, they're up there on this pedestal for you and you hear what they were up against. And it's like, it's quite shocking when it's more often than not, I think, in the industry as a whole. Yes. You know, comics are people and people in the world are often high or have crutches or have issues. We are right now. No, it's not. Right, exactly. But I mean, you know, they always like, when poor Mitch Hedberg passed away, people were like, oh my God, there's such a dark side to comedy. And it's like, there's a dark side to society and comics are part of society. And where it is vulnerable and as horrible as everyone else. And, you know, so, yeah, it was amazing to hear him say it though, you know. And the issues he had with his father, and strangely, and I don't know if this is significant in any way, him and Robin were mama's boys. The mothers were the funny ones in their family, not their fathers. Interesting. Their mothers were funny and their mothers encouraged them. Wow. It's interesting. I mean, first of all, Robin Williams, I think that's why I was so drawn to improvisational comedy and Carol Burnett. My favorite part of watching ensemble comedy casts were them trying to crack each other up. And even as a kid, I knew it was off script. And I waited for those moments because that was what made me laugh the hardest. It wasn't even the comedy. It was them cracking each other up. And then when they started laughing, that was it. I was on the floor. So there's something about that. And Robin Williams encompassed that. And Jonathan Winters, like, they were the greatest of all time. And then you came along. And then you were my favorite improvisation. You and your troupe. I mean, that group of gentlemen that you worked with on that show, you came through Boston once. I don't know if all of you came, but, and I remember someone telling me, because at one point in my life, I wanted to be on SNL. And someone said, you should go take one of those classes. Right. And so, well, I thought everyone did. People like us, I guess we're just weird. We wanted to be on SNL. But I went and did this improvisational thing at this theater. And that, wow, like when you can make the improvisational comedians laugh, that was when that was, that changed my world. Although I didn't go into comedy after that, but still. I was going to say, you became a TV personality. Well, but I, that feeling of just making people feel good, it's, it's so addictive. Isn't it? And don't you think, Lynn, after taking those classes and being, having that experience, that it helped you in your hosting and in. Everything. In general, like listening and reacting, because people go, oh my God, I can't improvise. And you're like, you're improvising every minute of your life when you go to work, when you walk around, when you interact with people. You're not thinking of what you're going to say beforehand. You don't have a script. So I kind of think that experience really helps later in every way, you know, to learn how to improvise formally. Well that and a little bit of psychology. I took, I took abnormal psych as my second. There's a good one. I figured if I'm going to be dealing with people, I have to know how to handle. You came up through San Francisco's comedy scene. What was that world like in those early days for you? But what did those formative years sort of teach you about that craft? Well it was imperative and really important in my life. I moved to San Francisco when I was 19. I'm from the Bay Area. I'm from San Carlos, the widest place on earth, home of the Plain Yogurt Festival. And I moved to San Francisco and then I wanted to be a comic as soon as I got there. And then I started going to the Holy City Zoo and the other cafe, which were famous alternative rooms that Robin had started at the zoo. And the other was in the Haight Ashbury and it was a really eclectic room. Paula Poundstone. I'm trying to think of the famous people. Kevin Meany. One of my all time favorites. Right. And Robin Williams all went through there. And so that crucible, the ethos in the early 80s in San Francisco was the inner-world. And the intellectual be challenging. Don't be a hack. And by hack, don't do sexist, racist, easy jokes. Not that there wasn't. There was plenty of hacks. But the general ethos was we didn't like magic. We didn't like song parody. You know, we were like, we were very strict. When out of towners came in and they didn't reach our standards, we were snotty to them. The comics that came to San Francisco that we would appreciate, you know, you kind of had to go through the vault of fire. Eventually, you know, Doug Benson and Jeanine Garofalo and David Cross, all those types came through San Francisco. And we sort of embraced them too. All bunch of comics moved from Boston, Bob Goldway, Tom Kenny, Dana Gould, all to San Francisco. That was the second wave. The first wave was Paula and Kevin. And they found a home in the city. And I think it was a great atmosphere because there were women, there weren't, it wasn't all white guys. And my best friend was a guy named Warren Thomas who passed away. And he was one of the fastest rifers in the world. Riffing was important. And that's where I learned all that junk. And as Warren Thomas used to say to me, Robin Williams was our Elvis. So we had Robin and he meant sub referencing vaudeville, dick jokes and intellectual and politically challenging all at once. That's what you were supposed to do. And so that's the school I came out of. So that's why my comedy's been that way because I was absolutely bred into that. So I don't do deadpan and I don't do, I have one liners and stuff. But there's a real difference I think between in those days now with YouTube and everything and comedy breaking up into pieces. It's different. But in those days, there was a real difference between East Coast comics, New York comics, Boston comics, Chicago comics and a difference between LA and San Francisco comics. So we weren't slick. We were more raw and we were more challenging. By that I mean we didn't aim at the lowest common denominator. And of course, San Francisco comics would go on the road and we'd have a lot of trouble getting everyone to laugh because we were used to the cost of the intellectual atmosphere of our town. So we all had to learn another lesson there. Yikes. Right? So I hope that answers your question. It was really exciting. And also, we were young. I was in my early 20s. So we went out every night. This was when people went out every night too. The show started at nine, hello, not eight. And we went out every night and performed. And I believe, because I'm old fashioned, now I'm old fashioned at one point I was young, that performing every night live is how you learn to do it. It's your apprenticeship. It's you belonging to a guild. So the comics are on YouTube and the comics are to TikTok and a lot. God love them. This is the new way to do it. I get it. But it's not the same as playing in front of live people. And a lot of times when they get in front of live people, they have a little trouble translating. Yeah. You know, I have a million followers on YouTube. And it's like, well, if all of your followers are morons and you've never played live, then you're still not connecting. And stand up. Comedy is about connecting. There's chief fully and foremost. You have to read the room too. And if you're on YouTube, you're in your own room with nobody in there. How do you even know, you know, what's working and what's not? But also your style, at least what I got to see so much on my TV growing up was physical too, which is why I loved Robin because there was so much involved in it. Like it was just all encompassing. How did whose line is it anyway? Come into your life. I read something about Mike McShane and you were on an improv thing, kind of similar to what I did. I would take a class with somebody from whose line is it anyway. Maybe someone would notice me is actually what I was thinking. Were you feeling the same way? Or, and what did performing at that level once you got there, teach you about comedy and about yourself? Mike and I were in an improv group in San Francisco together and we had gone to college together and we're still friends. And I was on the road with Tom Kenny, who's the voice of SpongeBob SquarePants. And Tom and I had the similar look in those days, giant glasses and I had a pompadour and he had a kind of a Woody Woodpecker rooster tail. And we were on the road together, Tom and I, and we were playing in, oh God, Spokane or somewhere, or Missoula, Montana and Idaho and whatnot. Cour de Laine, which is pretty Nazi. Anyway, I got a phone call and McShane called me and he goes, there's this English comedy show in town and they're doing improv and they are auditioning. And I literally burst into tears. I was in my hotel room in Spokane and I'm like, I can't be there. I got to do this gig. So then thank God they came back the next year. So Mike got on the show that year. That was 88 or whatever, 89 maybe. And then they came back and auditioned and I auditioned for the producers and then I got on and I did my first, who's line in 89. And then I went to England. I went to London. I had never been anywhere. I'd never seen a zebra crossing or a red phone box or whatever. Then I did the show with John Sessions and Josie Lawrence and John was a British performer. He passed away as well. But John was a genius of improvisation. He was a Scottish, Jewish and gay and he had an enormous font of characters and references. The very first episode I did was him, me and Josie and Mike. And of course Josie and I are still buddies and we stay with her in London and we see her and you know. And I was thrown into that crucible. Very first show I was nervous. I went and bought a vintage suit on Haight Street to wear for my first episode. Then I was sitting in the dressing room before the first taping and I had two different pairs of glasses and I said to John Sessions, who was an established star at that time in England, which glasses should I wear? And I put a pair on and he went, don't wear those. Those are two ornithological convention in Omaha. And I was like, wow. That's a little vague for me, John. I wonder why you make that more specific. And the fun of doing it and the newness because the show was brand new. They'd only been on one year. I was on the second year. They were still finding their way and we would take forever and ever to do stuff. Now of course by the end of the tapings, we would tape for two hours and get like 18 shows out of it. But in those days we'd get like one or one or two out of that. That's a lot of work. And then I started to do stand up there. I mean, I was thinking about it last night Lynn and in participation of this interview. It literally changed my life because I got to go to England and then who's lying out of nowhere became popular and we were on for 30 something years off and on. And I would never have been able to go around the world. I would never have any kind of standing if I hadn't gotten on it. So it was pretty lucky, I think. Having said that, when I first saw what improv was at college, there was an improv group in my school and I went to see it because I'd never seen improv in a group. I'd seen comics improvised but I'd never seen improv. They did an audience spot and they brought someone out of the audience. And I'm going to be a member of Ed Keenholz, the artist, Edward Keenholz. He said when he was young his parents took him to see an art exhibition and there was a Rembrandt and he said to his parents, I can do that. And so I watched the improv show and I thought I could do that. And so I went and the next week and I sat in the front row and when they asked for a volunteer, I jumped up. So it made sure that I was the first volunteer. And then the next day they asked me to join the group. And so that's how I learned to improvise from all the other kids at San Francisco State. And so we did a weekly thing and that's when I met Mike. Mike came to state and then we asked him to be in the group and then after that, da, da, da. Greg, that's incredible though. I mean, let's just say, first of all, television shows, they don't have a long shelf life. Not all are Saturday Night Live on forever but to say that you were a part of something for three decades. Oh, I know. That's incredible. I mean, but it just, it's a testament to what people need in their life, which is laughter, which I feel like is one of the biggest healers there is. Your stand up is very distinctive voice. First of all, just a little fun fact about Greg that I read about you that I didn't know that you were the voice of Bob the Builder for a short stint. Oh, yeah. That is so cool to me. I do voice work on and off for probably many years now too. I always wanted to be a character and never got around to trying that and I just was so blown away. Another little coin-keeding, similar. You and I were both on a game show as contestants but not the same game show. Were you on Jeopardy? I was in the 80s. Did you win? I brutally lost in the last round, which was. I was on Hollywood Squares and I lost horribly too. It was awful. So I just, I feel your pain for that. But two little fun facts about Greg. Your stand up is very distinctive. It's intellectual, like you said, political, observational. How did you develop the style and how has it evolved over the decades? Because you definitely have your own style. Well, thank you. Like I said, out of the San Francisco workshop of the 80s and then going to England in the 90s really opened me up because I started going back over and touring and I toured England a bunch of times and did dates all over the country because I was on a television show there and there was only four channels in England in those days. So if you were on TV, you were going to get seen. People were forced to be your fan. They had nothing else to watch. No, there was nothing else to watch. They didn't even have cable. By the time we left England, they were starting to get cable. We finally got cable like in 96 or 97. Wow. And so playing for a foreign audience and having to learn to adapt to Welsh, Irish, Scottish, English, Northern England, Southern England, it's all very different in Northern Ireland and then the Republic of Ireland and it was an education. And so it emboldened me to be more socially aware, more critical, to accept the responsibility that Carlin and Pryor and Lily Tomlin and all my idols had done, which is really say something. Be funny always first and foremost. As my wife says, when I'll say this joke's not working, she'll go, why don't you do a funny character to sell it? That's great. Because I'd have lines that were so hoarded and they would land too hard. Too serious to be. That's what, yeah, like the crowd would get angry instead of laughing. And white people really, really hate to be told about their deficiencies. So you have to do a clown act to get white people to understand and listen to you because they can't. They have a complete blockage between them and the truth. Right. If you say to white people, you're racist. They go, no, we're not. You know, and you're like, well, that's not the answer really. So you can't just say you're racist. You have to kind of do a song and a dance to indicate that. I think that's really what changed my style into a way more illustrative to try to sketch things out. You want to make people think too, not just laugh. And that's special too. You want to make a difference with your comedy. Exactly. And my friend Will Durst is a political comic from San Francisco. And he sort of my unofficial mentor, he would hate me to say this because he really hates it when I do say it. But he did all politics. And this is in the 80s. And he made a decision early on that he wasn't going to do anything else. Only political material. And I was doing some and then some goofy and then this and that. And I said to him, do you think political material can change people's minds? And he said, no, but it can make them think. And maybe introduce a thought that they hadn't thought of before. Maybe they entertained that thought later. And he also taught me a lot of other things. He said, never throw your material away, put it away and then keep it. And then you can bring it back and rewrite it for the next generation of because all political material is in a giant cycle. Well, of course. And he also taught me the value of being present at a gig. We were playing some bar in San Rafael on a Tuesday. And I remember coming up to him, I was probably 25 or six. And I said, I know what I'm doing here. I'm getting 50 bucks or whatever. But what are you doing here? And he pointedly looked at me and went, Greg, there's something to be learned at every gig. And that hit me in the face. You need to respect your craft. And that means showing up when you do it. Don't half-ass it. I mean, mind you, sometimes it's bear survival. You know, you get in front of a crowd. That's so awful that you literally you'll do anything to and then get off. But in general, you really have to imbue. My wife told me that she worked with a guy in the 80s and she said, I don't like the job or something. And he went, you have to make your job important. You have to make what you're doing important to you. And so that's, I think, that ethos that you have to kind of bring to stand up, which is why I have very little tolerance for people who are glib about it or who are using stand up to launch themselves to something else and are dishonest about that. Like if you're just using it to become an actor or become whatever, fine, but don't come into my house and mess around with stand up because there's been some great artists who were stand up comics. And I won't have them trampled on. No, no. We'll be right back with more of the Comedy Saved Me podcast. Welcome back to the Comedy Saved Me podcast. So how do you stay relevant and move forward with the times, but also keep doing what you did that works so well for so many years? Yeah, that is that. That's the trick. I'm desperate to not be irrelevant and I don't want to be one of the old guys. And I also really, I take exception to when older comics go, oh, you can't say anything anymore because everyone's so woke. It's not the truth. If you haven't the taste and discretion to not be a homophobic, racist, transphobic weenie, then you really ought to be a stand up comic. You should just be a Republican senator or something because you have to be sensitive to people. And I've changed my material over the years and I've changed my outlook over the years. I did a set last night and the woman opener, the woman who was opening for me said that she appreciated my act because I took out white guys and that a lot of the guys she sees just take out women all the time. So that's where we're at now. You know, I mean, we're still in the same horrible situation that we were in the early 80s when there was a lot of people making fun of gays and women and Chinese drivers. And I think that a lot of stand ups have abrogated themselves of any responsibility to speak to everyone and have decided to just whine that somehow they're being constricted and a sidelined when that's not the truth at all. All the comics that say they've been canceled are not fucking canceled. I mean, we have that thing in with the comedy festival in Saudi Arabia this year and the glib responses of so many of the comics who went there. Oh, well, you know, they're just like us and this and that. And it's like, well, now we're to a fine point where we can't really, you know, you can't fudge that anymore. No, you weren't playing for a bunch of regular people in Saudi who just came out and paid their five dollars. You're playing for an oppressive regime that financed this with gigantic blood money and you're taking that money. And so now you have to justify yourself afterward. And some of the comics were rude the day they did it. And others were bullshie about how they can do whatever they want. God damn it and blah, blah, blah. And of course, show business isn't going to die because of it or anything like that. I mean, my God, they made Steve Meningen, the old Treasury Secretary, one of the board of, I think was at the Lionsgate film today. So being a Nazi doesn't disqualify you from being in show business in any way. But I don't think it's a great stance for comedians. I mean, we're supposed to take up the fight and the fight is against power. The fight is not against your financial, you know, goodness knows I've hoarded up for enough corporations and gigs over the years. So my moral stance might be a little shaky. However, it was sort of everything. The reason I think the reaction to it was so bad and you haven't asked about this at all. Of course, I've gone off of my own tangent here. I think the reason that was so violent a reaction about the Saudi Comedy Festival was just that. We know for a fact all of their high crimes. And so when you're going to be a clown for people who commit high crimes, it's different than if I go to Lam Shanks in Pittle, Ohio and do a weekend there. Because those people literally just came out to see comedy. They're not. Is there a real place called Lam Shanks? No, but that's my joke. Oh, I know. I just thought, like, wow, there. I forgot to do it last night, but it's one of my favorite jokes. People, I said the indignity of being a standup is people go, so where are you playing this weekend? And you go. Lam Shanks. And then it used to be Sir Lam Shanks, but the sign fell off. It's just Lam Shanks. You know, Greg, comedy isn't always glamorous as we've discussed a little bit here. There are struggles and rejection, tough times. I don't know how to ask this any other way. What were some of your darkest moments in the business? Or maybe could you share a moment that maybe really was tough that you had to pull yourself through? And what it was that pulled you through? That's a very good question. And of course, all comics reach that dark night of the soul. I did a corporate gig in Southern Turkey in the 90s for IBM. And the crowd was real drunk and they were wearing togas and Roman outfits and whatnot. And I got off to a very poor start with them. And I had to fight my way through it. And then the organizers of the event faxed me in my room and Turkey and said, look, we've been having a little bit of a chat and we decided that you really ought to do the next show. To be honest, my wife and I were pretty thrilled because it was such a horrible gig. And one of the women who was on the gig, it was a British TV presenter. They'd had to get her a bodyguard over the course of the weekend because the drunk IBM people were grabbing her and pushing her in the pool and molesting her all week because they were completely, poorly behaved, middle management. And this is what corporate people get like on a retreat, you know, especially in England in the 90s. But the gig I think that I remember the most was I was playing a club in East Lansing, Michigan. And this was probably 15, 20 years ago. And it was really nasty. And the crew were fine. But the crowds were hard. And it was a bad club. And I didn't like where I was playing. And I couldn't believe I took the gig. And I remember being drunk in a Taco Bell parking lot and bursting into tears and thinking, I've got to change my fucking life here. You know, I can't keep playing for drunk asshole crowds that I hate with other comics that are terrible, just to make money. And then another moment was I was in Atlanta, Georgia at a very nice club called the Laughing Skull, that a friend of mine named Marshall runs. And I was drunk and I was eating some awful food. And I was doing the same act that I'd been doing for about a couple of years. And I said to myself, I've got to snap out of this and write some new jokes and get a new motif going. And I didn't cry that night, but it was a bad night. And then after that, I was able to start the podcast and do a bunch of other stuff and sort of expand my world and reinvent. And that's what you have to keep doing. You know, like you were saying about musicians, the musicians who reinvent themselves all the time. David Bowie or Bob Dylan or whoever you want to Madonna, you know, Beyonce. Stay fresh because they challenge themselves. And so it's the same with comedy. And those nights, I remember distinctly because when I was drinking and I've given that up, but it wasn't the drink so much as the depression, you know, when you just feel like, why am I doing this, you know, for whom? For whom am I doing this? If I'm doing it for myself, which I think you have to first and foremost, that David Bowie said, remember the reason you started. The reason you started was you felt you had something to say. And so when you start to co-op that and say what you think people want you to say, then you lose the initial. You lose your soul. And he also said, and not that I think David Bowie is the most profound performer of all time. He was fantastically shallow and artificial, which is part of what makes him. Right. Yeah. But part of what makes David Bowie so compelling is that he was a chameleon and a magpie. And he picked up different things from other people and stole them and incorporated them into his act. But also that he was aware of that. He also said you should be never comfortable with what you're doing. You should feel like your feet are a little bit not touching the ground so that you're having to focus. That's where you want to be. You don't want to be. I'm slogging through. Bill Hicks used to have a great line where he would open and I was acquainted with Bill Hicks. We weren't friends, but I knew him and he was a very profound influence as well. Because Bill Hicks was one of the most uncompromising stand-up comics that you'll ever meet or see. And he said, when you would come on stage, let me slap on this plastic smile and plow through this shit one more time for you people. Whoa. Right. But that was his joke, you know. Could you imagine if Harold Smith got on stage and said that? Right. But I mean, Bill's point was, and you were saying earlier, he said that the essence of what he was trying to do was less jokes and more me. And I've tried to take that to heart. Like you said about my style or whatever. I consider my style. I say something and then I berate the audience for 10 minutes for not getting it. And then I use profanity and then a lot of adjectives. And that's my style. But I think he was right. And you can't be honest with the crowd unless you're yourself and not yourself, your deep, dark self, but the stage version of yourself. That's the thing that they're watching and that they have to buy into. I'm as depressed as any other comedian, but they're getting up and doing it is what alleviates that. And then I'm never depressed during a show. I mean, I have been, but it's a release. And the communal part of it is what I think is so appealing. When you, you're like a lawyer in that you're bending the jury to your will and trying to coerce them. But you're doing it differently than a lawyer would because you're doing funny voices and jumping around like an idiot. And like you say, physical comedy, which I think is also really important. We, in the group, who's line, we do a lot of vaudeville. I mean, we sit on top of each other and we pretend to have Congress with each other and all that thing. And I think that is necessary. I don't look down on that, you know, stupid pandering I look down on, playing to people's worst impulses. I hate Muslims or I hate Jews or women or bitches or any of that stuff makes my teeth stand on edge. And I won't have it. I won't have it in my comedy room and I hate it. They asked me the other night, we're having this guy come in and do a comedy set. Is that OK with you? And he didn't. But I said, anybody's OK with me as long as they're not sexist and racist. I'm not going on after someone who does that stuff because it's not necessary and it's not comedy. That was a long ass answer, Lynn. I'm so sorry. No, that's all right. I'm going to just rewind back to the first part of that answer, though, and say that the advice that you gave or that you spoke of would be not just for what you do, but also in in life in general, I think. Great advice in life to be authentic, to be who you really are, you know, and not try to pretend to be something that you're not just for the paycheck and, you know, go home because it ultimately won't work if you're not honest with yourself. Well, I think a lot of people are stuck in their job or their situation. So I appreciate that, you know. Yeah. And part of our job as clowns is to alleviate their life. You know, if you have a terrible job and I've had enough terrible jobs and I've had enough awful bosses and whatnot, that I understand what it's like to work all bloody week and then want to just get loose on the weekend. And so that's what we try to do with who's line. Stand up. I can be pointed and cruel and sarcastic and this vindictive and all those things in a group. You really have to give over to them. The what's going on in the room. So group. It's to me, there's no better. I that's what I love so much. That's why I ended up in morning radio because it was an ensemble cast of characters. I loved being able that people didn't take anything personally, you know, right before we'd crack the mics. It was, you know, everything we say now is for entertainment purposes. Nothing is to be taken personally. And of course, I was the only girl there. So it was like me and my brother's piling on me. But it gave me such thick skin to handle the rest of the world. But also teach me what's really important. It's like being funny and and the give and take with with others. Even if you weren't a comedy troupe, it's almost like that's how you should treat people always, you know, laughing at yourself and laughing with each other is so important. I love being in a group because I am a I'm a team player. Yeah. I like to run wild on my own, of course, and I'm a stage hog. But I love I love a group effort. And I love when people work together. And the thing that queers it not in my group, because we work together for so bloody long, you know, we're like the Harlem Globetrotters. Yeah, you know, you could finish each other's sentences and yeah. Yeah, yeah, we we we were in sync. But when you're with people who aren't in sync and certainly in radio, you've ran into this enough. Someone will come in and they're very jarring. And it's because they're not understanding what's going on. And they try to inflict their thing on everybody. And or they think that by querying it by if you'll pardon the expression, sticking their dick in it, that they're going to somehow improve it or whatever. And that's common, you know. Well, that's ego too. And you were talking about that earlier. It's like you you have to have a healthy ego, but you have to keep it in check because if you get to you do that. If I'm by myself on stage, it's all about me. So I can do what I like when I'm in stage of the group. I have to serve the group. If I think of a great idea and I don't get it out in time or I can't find a context for it and it passes. You have to let that idea go and move on to the next one. But you can't save that though. Save it because it's going to come back. Right. Use it another time. But like you can't shoehorn and wedge things in where they don't go when you're in a group. And that's what makes a good group, you know. Someone I mean, my wife said to me and she's had to watch this more than any other human alive. The thing that makes our group fun. One of the things is we're Pacey. You know, it moves right along. There's a rhythm. Yeah. And you have to understand that as I mean, we've all seen a comedy movie where we were like, is this going to get off the ground? Yeah. You know, and we've all seen a stand up or a group where you're like, could we move along here? You know, I mean, it's one thing to belabor a point, but it's another thing to just drag ass. And that's my main complaint with other comics when, you know, you're in a podcast with a bunch of people or you're in one of those group things. And it's not the people who usually work with. Sometimes people aren't that great at sharing. They won't give the ball back. Or they think that if they inflict themselves on the audience every 30 seconds, that somehow that's going to make them popular. You have to have an awareness, like you said, of when to give and take. Yeah. Yeah. And also to be fearless about it's at other moments when you're not sure. So it's such a, it's such a tightrope that you dance all the time. What, what does comedy give you, Greg, that nothing else can give you? Confidence. I feel accepted and in charge when I'm doing comedy. In my real life, I'm tentative and shy. And I can be, I can be a terrible decision maker. I can waffle till the end of time. I'm a Libra. So I, my overdeveloped sense of fairness keeps me from making any good decisions. And I can be terrible about show business and meetings and all that kind of nuts and bolts. Shit is not what I'm interested in at all. It just doesn't interest me. And so I'm not as good at that as I should be. But when I'm on stage and I have the conch, I, I'm in charge. The Lord of the Flies. I gotcha. I gotcha. Yeah. Okay. When they, when they want to speak, they cast the conch to each other. Yes. The conch shell. I think it's called conch. The conch. Yeah. Whoever the conch, like conch stew in Florida. Yes, nor when you go on a vacation, they make you go get your own and then they cook it for you. And you're like, I'm not eating that. Right. Cause it looks like a big old proleta bruises. Sorry. When I have the conch, you know, you're, you're, you've performed enough and you've done radio and telly and live. So you understand this, but you know that the audience that you're talking to a lot of the time doesn't, they think I would be scared if I was forced to do this. If I was forced to get on stage with nothing and just start, they would flip out because, oh my God, what if you're judged? What if you die? All the things people think of. Yeah. Whereas I have the sickness and a lot of performers do. I don't feel that way. I feel the other way. You want to go out there with your, in your underwear with no holds barred and nothing memorized. Just go for it. That's how I feel comfortable. So I, because you're completely reliant on yourself and you don't have a book to go to. You don't have anything to go to. You only have you. And so the last four albums I made, including this one here, I improvised them. So I would go in with ideas and on the first show kind of air them out. Second show is sort of refined them. Third show, expand them. Fourth show, finish them, try to get close to something. So rather than go to, like I've made a lot of albums and normally you work for a year and put the set together and write and then go out and play it over and over and fix it, which is how people mostly work. And I have issued that the last four years and instead gone for the entire process over the course of two nights or three nights. So however many shows, six shows or four shows, I'm making the album and I'm not coming in with anything written. I'm only have ideas and notions and then try to fill that out. So this album, I think is quite good. The new one that I just made in New Year's, I'm working on right now, pulling it together. What's it called? And we'll see if I get enough material out of it. The album I did before this, which was called Purple Shasta Raccoon, I think it's really funny. I mean, I think this one's funny too. I think they're all funny. I wouldn't put them out if they weren't funny. You are hilarious. I can't imagine anything you say. That wouldn't be funny if you put your mind to it and putting out something for the public. I mean, really, if people are just meeting you now, just please just go back and watch who's line is on anyway and just make some popcorn and you will have. And then I wanted to check you out and all your new stuff too. But Greg is known as a comedian's comedian. Am I correct in saying that? I mean, I guess you wouldn't say that. I would hope. I'm not quite aware of how I'm perceived, but I know what that means. And it means that I'm not as famous as a lot of comedians, but that other comedians appreciate my work. I'm hoping that's what it means. Well, yeah, you're sort of like an Oz behind the curtain comedian where like everybody knows you in the world and they all want to have a piece of what you have and do what you do and they look up to you. You're like Oz behind the curtain, but in front of the curtain. Wait, am I digging my hole deeper now? No, I follow. OK, thank you. It's so fun to talk to someone who can actually follow me. I've never achieved the giant, I'm for the few, as they say. Yeah. What was it? The shallow love of the few means more to me than the... It's true. I have to say the older I get, the more behind the scenes, the more I get to help others to be their best is so much more fulfilling than the path I was trying to take on my own for myself. I feel like that was all just education. Can I ask you a question then? I know we're almost done here, but... Oh, I'm scared. Did you want to be a great big star? Was that something that entered your mind at any point? Never. Everybody thinks that I did. I just wanted to work with a group of creative, talented people and make people feel good together. I don't know how I wanted to be like a combination of Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball and then all the female characters on SNL. And then I sort of made myself realize that trying to get a job at SNL straight out of college was a little bit lofty. So maybe I should just shoot for local radio first and then learn the craft and then move my way through and see what happens. So, yeah. Did that answer your question? I think a lot of people come into this and think, I want to be this giant thing and they haven't thought it through. Oh, yeah. You know, yeah. Well, there's that giant thing is is not one, it's not that fun. And two, it's a real responsibility that when you're a giant thing, everybody's after you. We rewind. You just said it. You hit it so hard. I think this is what the bane of my existence. When I saw the incredible responsibility you have when you have that platform and that you shouldn't squander it, that you should do the right thing always with that response. And then I look around and I see how many people are. And I mean, today it's like, it's overwhelming the amount of people that are willing to play the villain for the paycheck. That quickly knocked any kind of ego that I may have had right out. But I always felt like I wanted to work with a team and just be funny and make people. How important on the scale of everything in the world to you is making people laugh and feel good about themselves and that feeling you get when you're on stage. Well, it's really important. It's foremost. We talk about it in the group, not a lot because we don't talk about philosophy a lot, but we're aware that with things being the way they are right now, that it's wildly important for us to get up there and get crazy for people so that they have an hour and a half of their life where they can just cry laughing. And there's a healing effect to it that's not like anything else. Music is, of course, what all comics want to do. We all want to be musicians and all musicians want to be comedians. They think they're funny and we think we're musical. And I'm lucky because I knew what I wanted to do from a long time ago and I've been able to do it. So I think it's really important to get out there and make people yuck it up because it's not going to change the world, but it makes the world easier to live in. Yes. So true. I have two more quick questions, although I say quick and we're obviously chatty. I was going to say neither of us can stay on. No, you've sustained a career in comedy like we've discussed for decades, which is amazing. And I need to know the secret to your longevity in the business. How do you stay relevant and true to who you are at the same time? I try to stay politically active. I listen to my wife. I try to amend myself if I'm getting sexist or racist or tired or old manny. And, you know, I never will say that things were better in a certain era than they are now because however horrible things are now politically and even comedically, we didn't have the diversity and we didn't have the richness of voices that we do now in comedy. When I started in the early eighties, we just didn't. You would never have as many different voices as we do now. So that's a vast improvement. And now I've forgotten your question. Oh, something about just staying true to yourself while also staying relevant in an ever changing sort of world. And I don't I don't I don't sell gloom is something I'm really my wife. And I talk about a lot. I do we do a film club. She she chooses all the films. Jennifer curates it. And we showed Spy came in from the cold last week, which I'm about to put out right now. And the film club is me getting on stage and spilling for about a half an hour. And then we show a picture. Oh, fun. And I thought, yeah, it's really fun. And we showed network last month. And of course, people flipped out when I'd seen it. You know, there's a lot of people had never seen network and they couldn't believe how prescient it was, you know, that there's a mad person on the news every night who gives an insane diatribe and then collapses and everyone cheers, you know, like that Pate Chayevsky was able to see what media became or becomes. Anyway, we showed Spy came in for the cold. And, you know, I gave a big spiel about what it means, not not necessarily the picture, but what it's like to be brave and what this moment requires and how knowing that can fuel you to be brave and carry on. And that that's what's important and that every act of resistance, laughter, dance, going to a movie with your friends, having some popcorn, enjoying yourself is absolutely in the face of fascism. So you don't have to beat yourself up every moment that you're not out in the middle of the street, changing the world. Great advice. It's OK to watch a TV show and laugh. It's OK to write a poem. It's OK to enjoy because enjoyment is what they want to take away from us. They want to take away from us the moment where we feel good about ourselves. Or, well said, you know, fascism is all about debasement. You're supposed to debase yourself in front of the government. You're supposed to only feel loyalty, fear and anger, right? You're never supposed to feel joy and camaraderie. And so I gave a big spiel about that, you know, and Marty Ritt, who directed Spire, came in from the cold, did Norma Ray and Sounder and a bunch of really socially relevant movies. And he wasn't racist and he wasn't a sexist. And he was blacklisted in the 50s and he rose from that. So I want to talk about like his bravery and I think about Richard Burton. Was supporting 30 more than 30 people with his paychecks. He came from a dirt, poor town in Wales. And Richard Burton supported an enormous family, his entire career. And I said, so there's all kinds of different bravery. You don't have to be brave and like go shout the police down. That's one kind of bravery. It's another thing to be brave and just be who you are, like you said, Lynn. Well, thanks for giving us permission to just have fun, because it's so much better. It really is. For someone out there who may be struggling right now, Greg, wondering if they should pursue their passion or not in, especially in these times. What would you say to them and how well, I'll just stop there. And then my last question will be a sentence that I want you to fill in. OK, I would say this is it's more important than ever. And don't think that you live in a special time where everything's more awful than it ever was. If you were a black person, you know, I say like in 1965, this might seem quite familiar to you. If you're not a white person, all of this seems really familiar to you, because this is how the governments worked all the time. So try to put yourself in someone else's shoes. And secondly, Nina Simone said in artist's duty is to reflect the times they live in. And Nina Simone was a contentious person, but also a very perceptive person and also a very creative person. And she was disciplined and went to music school and everything. She fantastically said that she felt when people said called her a jazz artist, she said that was a white label to put black people in a in a barrel, that it's black classical music. And so I say, and be yourself with the dignity that you deserve as a person, gay, trans, blah, blah, blah, whatever you are. And that people were performing in the sixties during the Civil Rights Movement. People were performing in the seventies during all the Mishigas that went on with kidnapping and terrorism. People were performing in the eighties during Reagan's fascist era. People were performing during Nazi Germany in World War Two. In ancient Greece, when the world was tumbling upside down, that's when we had theater and philosophy. So there's never a time the world is a stable, safe place where you're going to be able to find a warm cubby hole. The world is a chaotic fucking mess. And so you have to push forward as an artist and do what you're going to do and let your voice be heard. So that's what I would say. And also, you know, it's not going to stop like it's not going to the world. Doris Lessing, the author, said, it's never going to get less crazy. So write your goddamn book now. Great advice. It's so true. Greg, do you have another couple of hours? I know, right? I could do this forever. Yeah, I'm like, can we can I invite some people over and we can do some, you know, like physical comedy? That actually almost sounds like a pickup line. Right. I'm sorry. Yes, Lynn. Come on over. Greg, where can people find? Oh, finish the sentence for me, would you? OK. Comedy saved me by. Helping me understand the world and connect with other people. Beautiful. And and where can people find you online? Gregproofs.com. I have a new album out. I keep doing the wrong hand. It's called The Free State of California. If you phone this number, by the way, there's a joke on there. You can actually phone it 415-335-7384. Can we call and leave messages for you and stuff? Yeah, no, if you call, there's there's like jokes. Oh, get out of here for real? Yeah, yeah. That is such a cool idea. We actually got a phone number and decided to do something fun. That's my new album. I'm on the road with Who's Live Anyway. That's at Who's Live.com. You can go to Gregproofs and find all this. The Gregproofs Film Club that my wife, Jennifer, curates. I'm putting a new one out today. Spyro came in from the cold. I also do the smartest man in the world podcast with my wife, which we'll probably record today. And that's all at Gregproofs.com. And I'm trying to think of what else I've got. That's it for the moment. I think that's enough. Have you ever seen Spanguli on Saturday nights out of Chicago? Of course. You are. You made me think of him because I love him. So I don't know why I'm watching Godzilla versus King Kong on a Saturday night. I'm like, what is going on? But you just remind me. I love when he pops up in the film. Yes. And puts his face in the characters and does lines. But you reminded me of that when you were talking about what you do, where you bring these movies that people haven't seen before and you do like a thing with them back and forth. And I thought that would be really fun if you sold that as a show on TV. Wow. That's a good idea. Thank you. Maybe I will because there's nothing else I'm selling is working at all. So just 10 percent. That's all I need. You know, yeah, you're in. Have your people call my people. Right. We love lunch. Thank you so much for coming on Comedy Savi and sharing. What a pleasure to meet you. Oh, my God, the pleasure is all mine and gracious with your time. And I just I can't say enough great things about you. And I wish you nothing but incredible continued success. You and your wife and the podcast. And and thank you for coming on my podcast. Thank you, darling. Thank you. I'm Buzz Knight, and thanks for listening to Lynn Hoffman and the Music Savi podcast produced by Buzz Knight Media Productions. Please check out our other shows, Taken a Walk Nashville, hosted by Sarah Harrelson, Comedy Savi, hosted by Lynn Hoffman and Taken a Walk, hosted by yours truly. All shows are available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and are part of the I Heart Podcast Network.