FYIs: Erin O’Connor has two films coming out, "Starving Artists" and "The Hillside Strangler," and is currently appearing in two music videos, one for Green Day and one for Tom Petty.

Bob Zany will travel to SLO County with his three dogs.

The Joke’s on Us as That Wild and Zany Guy Returns to SLO County

BY GLEN STARKEY

Bob Zany used to be huge! When he stepped on a scale, it said, "One at a time, please." He was so big, when he backed up he made beeping sounds. It wasn't until he began to lose weight that several kittens, an olive-green ottoman, and Jimmy Hoffa’s skeletal remains fell out of the folds of his skin.

Of course, 175 pounds later, Zany is still huge, just in another way. The former SLO County comedian is one of the nation's busiest comics, having made more than 200 national TV and 300-plus live radio appearances. He has headlined at more than 500 comedy clubs.

"I'm busy–not ‘king of the world’ busy–but I'm busy," reported Zany. "I've got a film [‘The Adventures of Joe Dirt’] coming out with David Spade in January. It's a small part, but I made the trailers, and more people will probably see the trailer than the film.

"I'm also on the road 40 weeks out of year, and my radio show, ‘The Zany Report,’ is in 100 markets every Tuesday. So I've been doing that. Here's an example of a typical joke: Autumn is the best time to get pregnant. The worst time is right before you go into the ninth grade."

Zany is still the same caustic, cigar-chomping flinger of sarcasm he always was, a master of improvising off the audience, of pointing out the hilarious in the minutiae of real life.

"I went to one of those do-it-yourself stores," quipped Zany. "Of course, nobody there can help you. When you do see a clerk and ask for help, they say, ‘I'm sorry, this isn't my aisle.’ Well then, go to your damn aisle!"

Zany took a few minutes to talk to New Times about the state of his career and his return to SLO County this week for two nights of stand-up comedy.

New Times: You're a three-time American Comedy Award nominee, which means that out of the 5,000 or so touring stand-up comics, you've been voted one of the top five performers among audience reaction as reported by club owners. But you've never won the award. What does that mean?

Bob Zany: That just means you get a chance to bring it up and throw it in my face. Have you heard of an idiot savant? Well, I'm just an idiot. I also have attention deficit disorder, but I like to think of it as multitasking.

NT: Your wife, Erin O'Connor, is funny too. Do you guys ever get tired of cracking each other up? Is there a sense of competition between you?

BZ: Not at all. We make each other laugh, probably without trying, through our fights. There's not really much competition because she's more into acting now. My bread and butter is stand-up comedy. She helps me write the weekly radio thing I do.

I'll tell you, I empathize with writer's block now. Coming up with eight–hopefully funny–jokes every week is tough. And they're topical and gone by next day, no longer funny, so I can't really use them in my act. And getting a joke to work on the radio is so much different than getting it to work on stage.

NT: You've got a new comedy album, "I've Arrived, Bay-bee!," which is available exclusively at your shows or through your website, bobzany.com. Comedy albums can be a tough sell. How's it doing?

BZ: That recording was made live from Battle Creek, Michigan, so it's a look at my live show and how I work the crowd. I think it's interesting because it's a show that can never be repeated because so much of it was unplanned.

NT: Your first professional gig was on "The Gong Show," on which you were pulled off stage by a man dressed as a nun. Now you're one of the top comics in the business. Obviously you've come a long way from your humble beginnings. What are you most proud of?

BZ: Most proud of…hmm. Hopefully I haven't done that yet. If I have to come up with something, my first reaction is to say I'm proud of doing the Jerry Lewis Telethons. I get to talk to Jerry and Ed McMahon. Say what you will about those two, they're legends, and by having me on the show they're approving of me, letting me have fun with them. To me, that's my greatest moment.

NT: You lost 175 pounds in 1991 and subsequently lost 30 minutes off your act because, let's face it, making fun of skinniness isn't as fun as fat jokes. How have you "reinvented" yourself?

BZ: I'm very excited. I've taken on some odd jobs, and I have a gardening and janitorial service. Knowing I can clean toilets and tell jokes really helps me out. And if comedy doesn't work out, I also get a cash-back bonus on my Discover Card. Last year I spent six grand and I got nine cents back. I don't know how they do it! If they keep this up there won't be a Discover Card for our kids. And what should I do with my nine cents? Do I let it roll over? Invest it in an IRA account?

NT: You changed your name from Tetreault to Zany, but isn't Tetreault a pretty funny name too?

BZ: I actually changed it from Penis Pickleover. No, really Tetreault is French and there's a lot of vowels in it, which is why I learned my vowels first. I actually met a French guy who told me the correct pronunciation is "tay-trow." His name was Jacques, but I told him, you're in America now, so you're Jack, and if you don't like it you can get out.

NT: Stand-up comedy is a tough bit. What do you do when the audience is just dead and you're twisting in the wind?

BZ: I break into a song, then strip down to my shorts, then yell "Goats and puppets!" That always works. You know, Glen, you've got to have a saver. No, actually you do your time and then you say "good night." I was once asked, "What happens if you bomb?" I get paid. "And if you kill?" I get paid. There will be another night.

But this isn't baseball where if you hit three out of 10 you're a star. In stand-up comedy you've got to hit nine out of 10. Luckily I'm pretty consistent. My number-one job as a comic is to get people to forget about their problems. I do that by creating new ones for them.

But I also believe in the concept of mass hysteria. Some nights one guy laughing his ass off can start the whole room going, and other nights everyone is pissed off. It can permeate the room, and it may not even be the comic's fault; the staff could be pissy, or the doorman might have been a jerk, or the audience might feel like they were overcharged. It's like a Vegas crowd: 90 percent of the people just lost a lot of money and they're not happy about it.

NT: Most comics have a trademark shtick or prop or something that's closely associated with them. What's yours?

BZ: That's changing again. I do still carry a cigar on stage, but I haven't smoked in a year and a half. Maybe my face is my trademark–two generations back, somebody fucked a buffalo. And I still use "bay-bee," though it's not as ubiquitous as it was. After the "Austin Powers" thing, everybody was doing it. Not that it was originally from me; I brought it back from the old days.

NT: I've got a deep philosophical question for you now. What is funny, anyway? Do we always laugh at others’ misfortune?

BZ: That's a good question. I think the first question is, am I your cup of tea? What style do you like? I'm sarcastic and self-deprecating, so if you like that I'm funny as hell. But if you're into musical parody, I'm not your guy. Or if you're the kind of person who likes sly political humor you can chuckle at, I'm not your guy. Personally, I laugh at the sickest stuff.

I think I'm at my best when I'm working the crowd. You have to be careful. You can't go out full-blown and expect to keep the crowd up the whole time. You have to bring ‘em up, then down, then up–and hopefully end on an up.

NT: What are the best comedy targets these days? Politicians? Self-help gurus? Infomercial spokesmodels?

BZ: I go after my own experiences and what I see. My interests are wide. I'll do jokes about sports, entertainers, anything that's funny to me.

NT: How much of your show is improv, just riffing off the audience?

BZ: I'd say about 50 percent. I have a beginning and an end to my show, but what happens in the middle is up to the audience. Once you break the wall and can be funny with the audience, going back to planned material can be a tough thing, because the audience can tell the difference. So there's a fine line going back and forth.

NT: What's most fun about being a stand-up comic? Least fun?

BZ: I guess the hours are the best thing, but even though you just perform at night, there's so much more–travel time, promotion, coming up with material. And the worst thing is as soon as you finish a run [of appearances at a club], you're out of work and you have to immediately start looking for more.

NT: Your roots go deep in SLO County. You had a comedy club here, and you actually asked your wife, Erin, to marry you when you were here. But this isn't exactly the biggest market for you. Why are you coming back?

BZ: Glen, I'm coming back because it's about people. I loved my time in San Luis, and when I'm on road, people still come up to me and say, "I used to come to the Bob Zany Comedy Outlet in SLO Town." People remember. It's like my second home up there. Æ

Glen Starkey's ass is watertight, people! Nothing gets in there.