Here's a very charming episode featuring the very charming Alicia Tobin. We find out lots about her in the hour. For example, do you know that this animal lover will stomp and kill innocent wolf spiders? That she once won a Macho Man competition? That an ex-boyfriend of hers is a "jerk"? And of course we talk about standup comedy, Alicia Tobin's Come Draw With Me, and her very funny health blog Hashimotopotato.
It's all right here. Listen now (that's a suggestion, not a command), or download at iTunes, Stitcher or PodcastLand (or anywhere else you can find it).
A radio show/podcast about comedy – on the air and in your ears since 2004. That's a long time. Nominated for the 2013 Canadian Comedy Awards, Best Podcast and the 2018 Vancouver Comedy Awards, Best Comedy Podcast. Hosted by Georgia Straight comedy writer Guy MacPherson.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Tommy Tiernan interview (2013)
This is it for this batch of long-forgotten interviews. It's with the great Irish comic Tommy Tiernan. In checking to see if I'd posted this one before (I hadn't), I noticed my first interview with him was two years to the day earlier. This one is from April 5, 2013; the previous one was from April 5, 2011. Maybe that's the day he sets aside for press every year. Each time I speak with him I come away impressed at how much thought he gives to questions.
Tommy Tiernan
April 5, 2013
"Hey, look, I just throw the stuff out there; other people decide if it’s controversial. I certainly don’t!"
– Tommy Tiernan
Tommy Tiernan:
Hello.
Guy MacPherson: Hello,
Thomas.
TT: Hi, how
are you?
GM: I’m okay. Our power is out so I’m on
my cell phone.
TT: Oh, my.
GM: Anyway, how are you?
TT: I’m more
powered up than that. I’m fine.
GM: How are the Maritimes treating you?
TT: The
Maritimes are great. I’m in Moncton today.
GM: Lucky you.
TT: Really? (laughs) No, Moncton is fine. I can cope
with Moncton. It’s okay.
GM: I was talking to Brendan Grace, your
countryman, a few weeks ago. He said when he plays in Newfoundland, it almost
feels like a part of Ireland that has sailed away. Do you get that impression?
TT: There
seems to be an appetite for things Irish there. Newfoundland is about the size
of Ireland anyway. Yeah, I definitely get that sense. The show that I’m doing
right now is very Irish. I spend most of my year touring rural Ireland. Forty
weeks of the year, I’d say, I spend going around performing shows in places
that normally wouldn’t have any stand-up comedy in them.
GM: In theatres?
TT: No, it’d
be hotel function rooms, which, strangely, have turned out to be more enjoyable
than performing in theatres. I’ve noticed that there’s an obedience with a
theatre crowd. It’s a formal event, practically. Whereas in a hotel function
room, the audience have been in that room for other things. The chairs aren’t
permanent fixtures; there’s usually a bar in it. So it’s much more of a
community hall feeling about it. And the energy is better in those rooms.
People feel more confident and they’re more boisterous. There’s just better
energy in them.
GM: But not to the point of disruption, I
would imagine.
TT: Oh,
verging on it sometimes, yeah. Absolutely, God, yeah. I mean, it’s not quite
the Blues Brothers scene in that chicken shack with bottles being thrown at the
chicken fencing in front of them, but they can be wild. I prefer them, to be
honest with you. The shows I’m performing here are full of stories from that
kind of touring and full of stories that appeal to people in those venues. There
was a real genuinely fantastic response to the show in St. John’s. In Moncton
tonight where the flavour is more French than Irish, I will be curious to see
how well received the stories are. I’m ready for the adventure of tonight to
see what happens.
GM: You do these tours throughout Ireland
doing other material, but along the way you gather material about doing the
tour. It’s kind of meta.
TT: The show
is very much about being Irish. There’s stuff about family in it and there’s
stuff about religion and all that, but a lot of the curiosities in the show are
about being Irish and what that means to be Irish. And I’m not able to change
it suddenly. Like, I’m not going to walk out in front of the French Canadians
in Moncton tonight and spend an hour and a half talking about their lives. I
guess maybe I’m turning into a folk act. If Buffy Saint-Marie can come to
small-town Ireland and sing songs on the Native American modern Canadian
experience, then there’s hope for me. I guess it’s turning more into folk comedy.
GM: Here’s some good trivia for you: New
Brunswick is the only officially bilingual province in Canada. Most people
think of Quebec.
TT: Of
course. Is New Brunswick therefore more French than Quebec?
GM: No. Their government uses both French
and English. In Quebec it’s only French and in the other provinces it’s only
English.
TT: Oh. I’d
always pigeon-holed Quebec as the French epicenter of Canada. There you go.
GM: Oh, it is. It’s just that New
Brunswick is the only officially bilingual province. Anyway, is it because you
came up in the clubs, which I assume you did, that you like this more raucous
atmosphere than the staid theatre crowd?
TT: I think
so, yeah. Those hotel venues have limitations as well. You can’t go all crazy
jazz hands on them. They want it delivered to them in simplified, easy ways.
They are predominantly small towns, big rural hinterlands, so there’s no meta
with them. You’re there to make them laugh. You can talk about whatever you
want as long as it’s funny. Whereas in the theatres, I think you’re allowed to
be a little bit more theatrical. The audience are a bit more indulgent of you
in the theatre.
GM: You can take your time.
TT: I think
so, yeah. Physically there wouldn’t be alcohol in the room. The theatres have
their plus sides and the hotel rooms have their limitations. I think the
adventure for me is trying to make the hotel rooms work. It’s more of a marketplace
kind of stand-up. It’s more like standing on a few fruit crates and trying to
get the attention of passersby in downtown Marrakesh (laughs). And I think that’s better. I prefer that.
GM: When you do the larger towns in
Ireland, it’s not still a hotel, is it?
TT: Oh no,
it is, yeah. Yep, absolutely. In the larger towns you do a hotel room that
might fit a thousand or 1500 people in it. And when you’re in the smaller
towns, you’re probably talking about somewhere between 4- and 700. So that’s
the only difference, really.
GM: Some comics of your stature might say,
‘No, I’m not gonna do that. That’s beneath me.’
TT: Oh, God,
well if you can imagine a comic from St. John’s who spent his life touring
Newfoundland, that’s where I’m at. My ambition is with the show really rather
than with global domination. I know global domination is possible for some
people and it’s financially rewarding and all that type of stuff. But I just
enjoy that more. I find it demanding and challenging and lovely all at the same
time. We do the show, we go for a few drinks at a local pub afterwards and then
we drive the next day 20 or 30 miles to the next town. And we do that 40 weeks
of the year. I just enjoy it. It means more to me. It seems more relevant to
who I am and to my countrymen and –women. It’s ambitious but in a different
kind of way. I’m ambitious for the material rather than for my profile, I
guess.
GM: You mentioned you talk about what it
means to be Irish. I know you have a whole show on that, but can you tell me in
a nutshell what it means?
TT: Oh God,
no, I couldn’t tell you in a nutshell. I might be able to show you a nutshell
and say, ‘That’s what it means.’ (laughs)
I guess one of the questions I have is I’m not sure that we’re European.
There’s a huge history of pre-Celtic trade between north Africa and the west
coast of Ireland. I have a theory that Irish people are part-Celt but that’s
not the whole story. We’re also part anemic Algerian. So just throwing stuff
like that out at an audience and seeing if it has resonance. We have stuff in
common with other Catholic countries like Italy and Spain and Mexico, but we’re
not really European in the sense of Belgians or French or Germans. I think the
north African kind of laziness, wildness, slightly uncouth… That’s more who we
are, really, than complicated, cosmopolitan Parisians, you know?
GM: You gotta be careful now. You don’t
want to court more controversy, Tommy.
TT: Hey,
look, I just throw the stuff out there; other people decide if it’s
controversial. I certainly don’t! (laughs)
GM: “Tommy Tiernan says Africans are lazy
and uncouth!”
TT: I know,
but, see, that’s more misinterpretation. I meant north Africans! (laughs)
GM: And yourself, as well.
TT: Yes.
GM: And is this why you don’t seek out the
trappings of superstardom? Because the Irish are more of a modest people?
TT: No,
without any kind of intellectual rationalization for it; it just feels right.
It just feels that this is the place I’m supposed to be, this is what I’m
supposed to be doing. You can only call it in the moment. And it’s curious
because I very much enjoy talking to Irish people when I’m abroad. And it’s
more so in Australia than in Canada. When I tour Australia, it’s mainly Irish
exiles that come to the show. I have a fierce sense of pride in talking to
them. I’m glad to be a representative of Ireland for them, or something like
that. So this tour in Canada, where I play mostly to Canadians, is kind of a
stepping into the unknown slightly. Like I said, the show in St. John’s might
have been kind of a cultural place to start because of the Irish connection
there, but it’ll be really interesting going from Moncton now across to
Victoria over the next two or three weeks. I suppose what will emerge,
hopefully, is points of contact between Irish people and Canadian people. It’s
more like I’m coming to this culture with stories of another culture and
looking for places where we can shake hands, but laugh most importantly. I
don’t want people leaving the show thinking that was very civil. Let’s meet in
the wild places. Let’s meet laughing would be my aspiration for the show.
GM: When you were talking about your
theory that Ireland isn’t really part of Europe, you were sounding serious. Is
it that this is a serious thought of yours that you’re making funny, or is it a
silly thought that you’re making funnier? You know what I mean?
TT: I know
what you mean, yeah. No, a silly thought would be we’re the Inuits of Europe.
That would be a silly thought. But maybe there’s truth in it, as well, you
know? It sounds right. There’s some unchartered part of my own head and the
heads of the people who come to see the show when I say it. They go, ‘Yeah.
Yeah, we agree. We hadn’t thought of that.’ We know you don’t claim
responsibility for thinking about it yourself, but it seems right. Like, if I
had said, in terms of an Irish crowd, we are the Nigerians of Europe, they’d
go, ‘No.’ There’s no resonance in that. So I don’t know if it’s a serious point
made funny or a funny point told funny. I know it wouldn’t be in the show if it
wasn’t making people laugh, but there seems to be more to it than that, though.
GM: Do you come up with these theories and
bits when you go for drinks after the show?
TT:
Sometimes, yeah. Bob Dylan had an album a few years ago called, Love and Theft. It was full of
references to stuff that he’d read. He even lifted a couple of lines from a
Japanese crime writer. I magpie stuff. I come across an idea somewhere in a
conversation or in a book and I say wow, that resonates with something I’ve
been feeling and then I try and spin it into something that’s useful on stage.
The prime quality something needs on stage is that it’s funny. If it’s not
funny then no matter how clever it might be, it doesn’t belong in the show. I
have offices full of that kind of material (laughs),
stuff that’s just not funny. The comparison of stuff that I come up with that’s
funny compared to not funny, it’s even more extreme than an iceberg, where
one-tenth of it is above the water. It’s huge. So I have tons of unfunny
material.
GM: And you just know it or is it tested
unfunny?
TT: No, I
don’t know it. I come up with the idea on my own or whatever and then I go on
stage that night with the ideas that I’ve collected during the day and I just
know without even saying the words which of them are funny and which of them
are not. I think it’s the pressure of the performance. It gives me a
perspective on the material that I don’t have just walking around during the
day, unless I was cornered by hoodlums
with baseball bats saying, ‘Make us laugh or get pumped.’ Then that
might produce a necessary perspective. But no, during the day just by
collecting ideas, as many of them as I can. It’s rare that more than 10 percent
of them actually work on stage.
GM: I heard Eddie Pepitone on Marc Maron’s
recently.
TT: I love
Eddie.
GM: He was raving about you.
TT: Really?
GM: He thinks you’re the best he’s ever
seen.
TT: Oh, my
God, well he’s not in his right mind, though, either, is he? (laughs) That’s a great compliment. He’s
a great comic.
GM: You might not consider yourself a
celebrity, but you are, right?
TT: Uh, not
really. There’s nothing in my life that would back that up.
GM: No?
TT: Well,
not really. I travel with four grumpy men in a van around Ireland and I work
three or four days a week and I’m home three or four days a week. There’s
nothing in my life that would suggest that word. And Ireland is a great place,
as well. I’m well-known in Ireland. But being well-known in Ireland just means
being available to people if they see you in the street. I would say Irish
people like Colin Farrell or the guys from U2, Liam Neeson, they’re celebrities
and they work that world. I certainly don’t.
GM: You don’t live in a castle?
TT: Uh, no. (laughs) I don’t live in a castle, no!
And even if I did, I would still be just down in the shops at 9 o’clock looking
for carrots. (laughs) It’s something
I’m very grateful for. That kind of life is the kind of life you imagine
somebody like Colin Farrell might live. That’s a great adventure. Stories about
that type of life and the awfulness about it as well are stories that I’d like
to hear but it’s certainly not the life I’m… There are people that are
well-known in Ireland and not too well known outside of Ireland. Once you
become a global phenomenon, even in Ireland stuff changes for you. But I’m just
well-known in Ireland and am able to work in other countries. I’m not anywhere
near those guys in terms of experiences they’ve had to go through. Nor would I
want to be. I’m challenged enough by my life as it is.
GM: You’re still a man of the people.
TT: Oh, I
wouldn’t even qualify it like that. I’m still struggling. I’m still shuffling
from day to day trying to cope with my own head. One of things about my stuff being
shown on Canadian TV and people liking it is an opportunity to come and work
here, which is amazing. I’m very grateful for that.
GM: How long have you been doing stand-up?
TT: Since
about 1996. So what’s that? About, good God, 17 years, is it? Good Lord.
GM: Does it get easier or harder as you go
along? I would imagine the easier part is you’re more experienced, know how to
deliver jokes and have a good feeling about what will get a laugh. And on the
other hand you might wonder if you’ve said everything you can say.
TT: Yep,
yep. It’s both of those things. And that’s why I think if you keep going, in a
sense you should get more adventurous because you’ve already explored one type
of thing. You have to keep exploring so what will I do next? If your commitment
is to the work rather than to maintaining your profile, then I think that’s
easier because you’re in a better position to take chances. You can say, ‘Here
are the stories I want to tell now I don’t care how many people want to come
and see the show but these are the stories I want to tell.’ I absolutely would
not be free from maintaining my profile desires, but the way we kind of
sometimes think: the way Picasso was able to change his style, his commitment
was to the work rather than, say, a boy band whose commitment seems to be for
staying famous and keeping people dancing. It goes back to the hotel room
thing: If I’m going to stand in front of a thousand people in the hotel room
who’ve had two or three drinks on them and are moving freely around from seat
to seat and there’s great energy and excitement, I’m obliged to make them
laugh. That’s the deal. There’s a contradiction there, or there’s a tension
there, between you don’t want to be repeating yourself, you don’t want to feel
staid, you don’t want to feel as if the stuff that you’re doing has been done
by other people, you want to keep taking chances with your stories, you want to
keep yourself interested in your own material, keep developing. But you also
have to try and make the thousand drunk people laugh.
GM: You want to stay true to yourself and
not pander, so you’re walking that line.
TT: Yeah,
and that kind of tension means you’re neither completely pandering nor are you
completely self-indulgent. And maybe that tension is demanding but this is
where you walk so you’ve no choice, really.
GM: Comedy is so popular now and there are
so many comedians that of course we see some who are competent but their
material doesn’t seem true to them. They’re saying only what will get a laugh.
TT: I have
sympathy for them. I don’t particularly want to watch them but I have sympathy
for them. (laughs) And the vast
majority of stuff we see on television isn’t interesting anyway. It’s kind of
generic. I guess the hope when you go to see a live show is that you get a bit
more than you will on the telly. Success can be a bad thing for a comic, as
well. It’s been a curse for a lot of comics. Their material just seems to get
worse and worse and worse. Maybe it’s that thing where you start doing stand-up
and you get good at it, then you’re rewarded and you’re hugely famous but
you’ve said everything you’ve wanted to say. And then the promoter says you
should really go on tour again; you’ll make $12 million on your next tour, so
get a show together. Deep down you know you’ve said it all already so you say
it again but in a … Randy Newman has this great line: He said, “Each album I
make is like one I’ve made before, except not as good.” (laughs)
GM: I interviewed Russell Peters years ago
(2007) and he said his next tour back then would be his last using racial
humour. Then I spoke to him a year or so ago and asked how that went. He said
he couldn’t stop! They wouldn’t let him.
TT: Yeah.
Well, you know, that’s Russell’s cross (laughs).
He carries it well.
GM: You have five kids?
TT: Six.
GM: Your website says five. Is there a new
one?
TT: There’s
a new one, yeah, but he’s a year old so I don’t know why he hasn’t made it onto
the website yet. Maybe he’s too young.
GM: What’s the age range?
TT: Nineteen
down as far as one.
GM: Wow. So this is why you like to go on
the road?
TT: I’ve
come up with the idea of endless touring, yeah. (laughs) At the moment it’s half and half. It’s three or four days
on, three or four days off.
GM: The kids are all at home with you?
TT: They’re
all in the same town. The 19-year-old lives by himself and the next two live
with their mother but they’re all over at our house two or three days a week,
as well.
GM: Is the 19-year-old interested in show
biz?
TT: No, he
comes on the road with me, though, in Ireland. He’s kind of apprentice tour
manager and he’s getting an education in sound engineering or sound technician
or something. But he’s getting sort of an apprenticeship in both those things.
I’m delighted to have him on the road with me. It’s great.
GM: Stray Sod is the title of the
tour. Do you come up with the title after the show or do you develop a show
around an idea of a title?
TT: The show
is constantly developing so it changes all the time. So I just needed a title
for this one and I like a phrase that seems symbolic of the show rather than
has a literal meaning. So Stray Sod is a notion that exists in parts of Ireland
that part of the Earth is enchanted, and not necessarily in a good way. You can
stand on a stray sod and become confused and lost and unable to find your way
home. And what you need to do in order to unwork the curse of the stray
sod – ‘curse’ is probably too strong a
word; unweave its power – is put your jacket on inside out and then you’ll be
able to find your way home. I just liked the idea of Ireland being the stray
sod of Europe, that the whole country is enchanted. And again, not necessarily
in a good way. That there’s an opportunity in Ireland to perceive things
differently and not just via alcohol! (laughs)
I like that idea, that notion. It’s not one that’s too literal or too
pin-downable. It maintains an energy so I like it.
GM: As you were describing it, I was
thinking it probably was made up by a drunk Irishman to his gullible wife.
TT: Well,
there you go. That may well have been where it came from or that may just be
one of its other purposes.
GM: Tommy, it’s always nice talking to
you. Thank you very much.
TT: My
pleasure.
Sabrina Jalees interview
Hi there. It's me again. Got another delinquent interview for you, dating back to June 2013. Sabrina Jalees isn't a delinquent, just my posting of the talk we had. I first met her back when she was a precocious teenager of 18, I believe, in Montreal. She was doing cartwheels on the basketball court during the comics vs industry game while Alonzo Bodden and I were battling it out under the boards. Now she's a mature woman living large in New York. Well, as mature as a goofball can be.
Sabrina Jalees
June 24,
2013
"Before I came out, I was trying to write about anything but what I was actually going through. Would you believe that created writer’s block? But as soon as I was able to come out, not just about writing about being gay but everything came out. I think that’s the most important thing for a writer is being able to write about the things you know and the things that you think about."
– Sabrina Jalees
Guy MacPherson: Are you in
New York?
Sabrina Jalees:
I had a show in Ottawa last night and I’m heading to Toronto for a show this
afternoon. But I live in Brooklyn now and I’ve got my American phone roving
around Canada collecting charges far and wide.
GM: How long have you been in New York?
SJ: I’ve
been living there for about four years.
GM: And it’s everything you dreamed it
would be?
SJ: Oh, man.
I mean, I can’t lie. I had total rose-coloured glasses. I was wearing flowers
in my eyes when I moved over there. Because I was very lucky when I started
doing comedy in Toronto. I was talking about 9/11 shortly after the tragedy as
someone who was brought up Muslim and I got a lot of attention fast. So I sort
of had this idea that I would move to New York and get off the plane and Lorne
Michaels would roll up on the tarmac with a limousine and invite me to join the
cast of Saturday Night Live. I just
had this sort of glorious dream of what would happen. And really I never worked
harder in my life moving there. I started doing standup at 16 but when I moved
there four years ago, that’s when I really started a new chapter with standup.
I’ve been doing pretty much at least a show or two a night every night that
I’ve been in the city and really working hard.
GM: And maintaining your presence in
Canada, too, right?
SJ: Yeah,
because I never left Canada because I didn’t like it; I really left to go to
New York to become a better comic.
GM: And you still had gigs here, like on
CBC or wherever.
SJ: Yeah.
Wherever anyone would take me, I’d still come back. That’s the great thing
about New York vs LA is that I was still able to maintain my gigs and shows
that I worked on out of Toronto. Flying back to Canada was easy.
GM: I met you in 2003. You were 18. I have
you on video. We were at Just For
Laughs and we played in the basketball
game.
SJ: Oh, my
God! That was like summer camp for me. Amazing.
GM: I think you did a cartwheel on the
court.
SJ: Yes! And
George Shapiro, the producer of Seinfeld
complimented my cartwheel. I was like, ‘Well, this is it, guys! I gotta quit
school because I will be the next Seinfeld based on my cartwheel
skills!’
GM: When you got to New York, did you
pursue Saturday Night Live or those higher profile things you had been
dreaming about?
SJ: I’ve put
together an audition for Saturday Night
Live. I think for me what I’ve learned in trying to do standup in Canada is
how many different roads you can go down: as a comedian, a writer, a performer,
host. So what I really loved about my career here in Canada is that I’ve been
able to host a radio show or host and produce a kids show and all these
different things. For me, the dream is to continue to be able to be creative
and get paid for it. And if I get bucketloads of money and famous, then that’s
just a bigger dream. It means I’ve slept on the right side of the bed.
GM: You’ve always been ambitious, haven’t
you?
SJ: I hope
so.
GM: Not all comics are.
SJ: Another
thing I’ve noticed is comedians like Russell Peters and Gerry Dee, who have
this big presence not just in Canada but internationally, it’s a lot of talent
and skill but in both of those cases, and in most cases, it’s also paired with
this undying drive and ambition. Even the idea of standup, you go on stage and
the illusion is that you’re just sort of riffing. A lot of creative people get
distracted by that illusion because, yeah, you do improvise a bit but the
comics who seem the most natural on stage also worked hour after hour on those
jokes. So I’ve just tried to put as much effort into what I do and to be
honest, going to New York was another wake-up call. Because I had some credits
here in Canada, I was able to sort of at times rest on my laurels. In New York,
you can’t show up to shows doing the same seven minutes. You won’t get booked
again. A lot of the times, the hottest shows that I’m performing on are booked
by comics, and comics are booking people that they’re inspired by, that they
find funny. But definitely, maybe it’s a child of immigrant thing, but I’m
selling tank tops after the show, I’m emailing everyone I can on Facebook to
get on their podcast to promote this tour, whatever I can do. What can I do to
get you to my show, Guy?! I don’t know, is it drive or is it desperation? I
think it’s a fine blend. If I was a coffee roaster, my coffee would be called Drive and Desperation.
GM: You can do my podcast when you come to
town.
SJ: Yeah,
can I?
GM: Of course.
SJ: It’s
amazing how things change when you produce a show vs someone booking you for a
show, where you’re like, ‘I guess I’ll wake up at 8 and do radio interviews.’
Now I’m like offering people handjobs on Facebook to get on their podcast.
GM: Well, great.
SJ: Well,
maybe we can change the handjob. I’ll wash their car.
GM: I’ll take it. Anyway, it’s crazy the
amount of success you had at such a young age here.
SJ: I was
very lucky.
GM: Lucky and talented. There are lots of
young comics who would love to have that. What was it? Were you hustling or did
things just fall in your lap?
SJ: I think
this business is always a mix of talent and luck. Or what do they say? My
brother says this to me all the time: Success is a combination of… Aw, man, I
wish I knew the right words!
GM: Preparation…
SJ:
Preparation and timing!
GM: Something like that, yeah.
SJ:
Something like that. Isn’t that tragic that we both forgot the exact recipe? So
I think the timing was right for me because it was after 9/11, it was a
reaction to this sort of stigma around being brown at that time. And I was
young so I was different. So the timing was right for me to get these festivals
and I think I did a pretty good job. I loved doing standup and threw myself in
it. So I did get a lot of attention young but really what I’ve learned now,
over the course of doing this for twelve years, is that whatever luck you get,
you’ve got to follow it up with really delivering. And when I moved to New York
expecting the moon and the stars, what I didn’t realize was there are people
there that have been doing standup every night four or five times for years.
And those are the next ones to get their tickets. So I’m in line. I think I’ve
moved up in the line. I almost got a job writing for Jimmy Fallon. I’m getting big opportunities and auditioning for big
shows. But in the meantime, being able to do this tour… And I’ve had some
sold-out shows. What a great blessing. I’m not religious at all but I’ll throw
that word around. It’s a blessing.
GM: You’ve never played Vancouver, have
you?
SJ: I have,
actually. I split headline with Debra DiGiovanni and we rented out a theatre a
while ago. This was maybe five or six years ago. And it was a blast.
GM: When I met you in 2003, you gave me
your card. You had a business card at 18!
SJ: (laughs)
GM: So I was aware of your name and
watched for you. And then I started hearing and seeing you on CBC.
SJ: It was
that cartwheel, Guy.
GM: You obviously have a national presence
here where you can tour the country.
SJ: Yeah,
and you know what? Running a tour like this is like planning a huge birthday
party and the hours before the party you’re like, ‘Why did I do this? I’ve got
all this cake. The streamers are up. And is anyone going to show up?’ And I
can’t even tell you how amazing it’s been to see the turn-out. I feel so lucky.
It’s been great. In New York, nobody knows who I am really. When I make eye
contact with tweens, I’m like, ‘Are you gonna recognize me?’ And inevitably
it’s like, ‘Ah, no, you have a booger at the side of your nostril.’ But people
recognizing me and having some sort of relationship with me already, it’s an
amazing feeling. These shows are so special because of that. Because people
know a little bit about my story and so right out of the gate it’s like we’re
just hanging out.
GM: Showbiz is highly sexualized and
you’re a cute young woman.
SJ: Okay,
let’s talk about my body, Guy. Let’s talk about it.
GM: I know it’s sexist, but did you feel
any kind of backlash after you came out and then got married?
SJ: I think
the cool thing is, and lucky for me, is when I started doing standup – and that
was even before I knew I was gay – there was still this vibe in the air
about Ellen DeGeneres coming out on her sitcom and her sitcom was cancelled so
watch what you say, watch what you do. Cut to today and Ellen is the most liked
person on daytime TV. So luckily there have been pioneers before me who have
kind of battled through crappier times. I think we’re at a time now where,
yeah, I talk about being gay on stage and I talk about gay rights and I talk
about race, but the same way I talk about race, there’s a common space there
and these are issues that people care about because people care about people.
And for me, my standup’s always been biographical.
To answer your question
directly, I felt fairly hesitant to come out when I was doing standup in
Toronto before I left because of that. I had actually started doing comedy in
kind of a different era. I felt like I was going to be pigeon-holed. It wasn’t
until I moved to New York that I realized this wasn’t a decision; this is who I
am. If I’m going to be honest on stage, this is a part of who I am. When I was
holding it back, it was affecting my writing. Before I came out, I was trying
to write about anything but what I was actually going through. Would you
believe I was blocked? Would you believe that created writer’s block? But as
soon as I was able to come out, not just about writing about being gay but
everything came out. I think that’s the most important thing for a writer is
being able to write about the things you know and the things that you think
about.
GM: So you came out and then everything
came out.
SJ: That’s
right. My toilet got unclogged.
GM: And you talk about race, so obviously
being Swiss is a big part of that.
SJ: Yes. You
would not believe the Toblerone jokes. Every now and then I’ll touch on the
Pakistani thing just to make my dad feel okay.
GM: The tour is called Brownlisted. And
that refers to being shunned by your father’s family, right?
SJ: Yeah.
I’d been debating with my parents for a while whether they want me to come out.
I said, ‘Okay, I got married now. What’s your five-year plan with this secret
to the family? Just keep on showing up to family things with my white best
friend? And pretty soon we’ve got a little kid best friend?’ To me, I was not
ashamed of who I was but I knew it would be a big leap for them because of
where they land religiously and culturally, but I never imagined they would
completely block me out, which is what ended up happening. It was a really
difficult thing and I wrote this piece about it for the Huffington Post at my lowest low. Really, I hadn’t reached the
point where I was ready to write jokes; I just wrote this honest piece about
what I was feeling and what I was going through. And the response from that
actually inspired the tour. Because I got these great, huge cyber hugs from
people all over the world but especially people from Canada that remembered me
from Video on Trial or had seen me
live and had felt a relationship with me and felt that they needed to reach out
and give me a hug. And there’s also people that felt inspired to come out and
shared their stories and some of them were similar. And then there were Muslim
people who said, ‘I pray to Allah that your family can learn to accept you and
congratulations to you and your wife.’ So it was really hugely cathartic.
GM: Any reaction from your family about
the tour?
SJ: I
haven’t heard from them about the tour, no.
GM: You’re talking about your extended
family, not your parents, correct?
SJ: No, my
parents have been amazing. I came out to them when I was 20. That was a whole
thing as well. My joke in my act about coming out to my dad was it was hard
because now he expects me to get ten wives. But when you come out, parents have
their expectations of what your life is going to look like and coming out
always throws them for a loop. But they couldn’t be prouder of me. They’re
awesome. They actually drove to Ottawa from Toronto to check out my show again
last night. Really, they’re heroes. They’re standing in front of the family
saying, you know, ‘So what? My kid’s gay. Your kid’s got bad breath.’
GM: For the ones that have shunned you,
were you pretty close to them before?
SJ: Yeah, I
lived with a lot of them because my dad is the eldest of eight brothers and
sisters and they all emigrated first to Canada and mostly their first stop
would be in our basement. These are cousins and aunts and uncles that were
pretty much like brothers and sisters to me at one time. And of course you get
older and you grow up, but you never assume that you will lose your family in
that way. And honestly, since the Huffington
Post piece, as time has gone by, some people have reached out to me. And at
the end of the day, anyone that wants to have a relationship with me – this is
where the desperation comes in: ‘Anyone that wants me, I’ll take it!’ But
really, I get it. I just didn’t know that they would be willing to defriend me
and block me out and stop speaking to me. But whatever. I really wouldn’t have
been as vocal about what happened if it wasn’t so horrible the way it was dealt
with. I mean, it made me realize why gay kids kill themselves. If I didn’t have
my parents in that time, being rejected by your tribe sucks.
GM: Is your dad a religious Muslim or just
a cultural one?
SJ: He
married a white woman in the ‘70s and it was all downhill for him and religion from
there. There’s no bacon in the house and he makes it known that there will be
no ordering of any pork. It’s adorable. It’s like he wants to live in a world
where he believes that none of us has ever had a slice of pepperoni.
GM: Are you close to your mother’s side of
the family?
SJ: Yeah. My
mother’s side of the family I am close to. One of my aunts flew in for the
wedding. They’re Swiss; they’re not going to make any waves.
GM: Did you develop material for the tour
on stages in New York?
SJ: Yeah,
pretty much. The tour is everything I’ve been working on in New York the past
four years. And also I felt that before the Huffington
Post thing happened, I’d been wanting to come back. This is my first
national tour. I go back for corporates or whatever and they’ll fly me in but
generally speaking I haven’t had the opportunity to invite fans or anyone –
fans or anyone; that’s my demographic! – to come see me perform. I’ve been
really fucking happy about the turnout and the shows. I feel like I’ve been
working so hard and a lot of times when people refer to my comedy, it’s a
little bit older jokes and it’s a different era. So I’m excited to show Canada
the Sabrina Jalees of 2013.
GM: Married life is good?
SJ: Married
life is good, yeah! I’m married to a stylist so that means I’m a trendy type of
person.
GM: She leaves your clothes out for you in
the morning?
SJ: Oh, yes,
for sure. It’s adorable: She took pictures of all the outfits I’m wearing. For
each city she’s planned out an outfit. And I have to say Vancouver’s is just
delightful.
GM: Where is she from?
SJ: She grew
up near DC but she’s from a military family. She was born in Guam and I found
her in San Francisco. Very American family I married into. It’s amazing to see
their growth through this whole thing, too. They go to church every Sunday and
they’re a military family and Republican. Can you imagine what they must have
thought was coming to their house the first day I showed up to meet them? Just
a lesbian kicking down the door: ‘I’ve stolen your daughter’s heart. And I’ve
built a deck out front.’
GM: Are both families in the act?
SJ: Yes.
Well, I married into a wealth of material.
GM: That’s why you did it. I get it now.
SJ: Exactly!
You gotta pick very wisely.
GM: Your Wikipedia entry says you’re also
a dancer. I didn’t know this about you.
SJ: You know
what? That’s maybe where you’re not want to write your college papers from. I’m
not a dancer! You know what it was? On Video
On Trial, under your name they would put some random job and I always got
them to put ‘Interpretive Dancer’. I actually got some booking requests (laughs) in the beginning based on that.
You know what the best part of the Wikipedia page is? At the bottom, and very
dramatically, it says, ‘Jalees is out as a lesbian.’ (laughs) She’s broken out of jail and she will not let go of this
lesbian stuff! Like I’m on the prowl.
GM: So lock your daughters inside!
SJ: Hide
your plaid shirts!
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