Wanda Sykes interview

After my awkward interview last week with Patton Oswalt, I just had to get right back on that horse and hope for the best. Thankfully it was with the delightful Wanda Sykes. Turns out there's a bit of connection, too. Read the transcript to find out what it is.

I've always liked Wanda Sykes. I love her delivery system (to coin Marc Maron's term) and I like what she says. If you're keeping track at home, the only time I've written about her was to give her a bad review. That's the tricky part about reviews: they're for a particular show not a life's work. One other notorious bad review I gave was for Brad Garrett, who I always liked previous to that and might very well like again in the future. So a review is just a snapshot of a particular moment in time, it doesn't necessarily reflect my greater opinion of the artist in question.

Sykes is coming back to the River Rock Show Theatre in Richmond on May 6. I caught up with her today for a pleasant, if brief, 15-minute chat. We talked about Bill Cosby, Charlie Sheen, coming out of the closet, and nursing school, among other things:

Wanda Sykes – April 28, 2011

Guy MacPherson: You have a career that reaches both the mainstream and, from your stand-up, more fans of raw material. Are there ever any problems with expectations from audiences who might go see you thinking it’s going to be prime time Wanda Sykes?
Wanda Sykes: (laughs) Uh, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s happened, where some fans of New Adventures of Old Christine, you know, that’s their first encounter with me is through that show, and they come out to see the live show. It’s a bit different. But I’m not that dirty. I’m not that dirty for comics. I think they’ll still enjoy it.

GM: You’re not afraid of the f-bomb and certain sexual talk and it might be a bit of a surprise for them.
WS: Maybe a bit, but Old Christine was a bit, I wanna say raunchy. We got a little loose on Old Christine, too. I think if you’re a fan of that show you’re expecting a few f-bombs.

GM: But you never feel like you have to compromise your act in any way or just temper it a little bit?
WS: Oh, no, no, no, no. I’m still going to do the same performance. I have to make it fun for me. (laughs)

GM: Yeah, exactly. That’s why you do stand-up, right?
WS: Right. Exactly.

GM: Because there’s nobody else to answer to.
WS: (laughs) Nope. I’m the only editor and only boss. That’s why it’s so much freedom and still my favourite thing to do.

GM: People like you who have success in movies and TV, you don’t need to do it but you do it because it’s just part of your DNA, I guess, right?
WS: Yeah. It’s just that’s where it all started for me, is doing stand-up. I love doing stand-up. It’s nice to go back there because to me it’s the most rewarding and it’s where I feel the funniest.

GM: A lot of comics reach a certain level of success in movies and TV and then they stop doing stand-up. Bob Newhart says that if you have the ability to do it, you have a duty, an obligation to do it because not that many people can.
WS: Huh. I agree. Yeah. And also the freedom of knowing that, hey, if TV and movies and everything goes away, you still have the thing that you love to feed you, basically. To me, that’s like my safety net.

GM: I think a lot of people not in show business forget when they see someone as successful as you that you still can worry about things like that, right? Even though it’s unlikely but in the back of your mind you’re still going, “One day this all might go away.”
WS: Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. I mean, I think that’s part of being human. (laughs) Yeah, you go, oh, boy, what’s my back-up plan, you know? Should I go to nursing school now? At least I have something to fall on. You know, you think that.

GM: Ha! Nursing school. I’d like to see that.
WS: Yeah! Come on, they get to wear comfortable shoes. That’s very important.

GM: Who did you come up with in stand-up when you were starting out?
WS: I started in DC. It was a really hot place for comedy. Dave Chappelle was hitting the clubs the same time I was hitting the clubs in DC. Who else came out of that group? You know, Martin Lawrence was like just before us. Patton Oswalt, he was in DC and Baltimore. So it was a lot of people coming through there. A lot of good comics.

GM: And your first big break was with Chris Rock or was there something before that?
WS: I would say yes. I would say my first big break, as far as to get into TV and everything, that was definitely Chris Rock, opening for him in New York at Caroline’s. And shortly after that he got his show on HBO, The Chris Rock Show, and I got hired to write on his show. And that’s when everything kind of, you know, took off for me.

GM: And when did you first feel like you belonged, or fit in, in the show biz world?
WS: Um, I think after, like, a season or so on The Chris Rock Show. Because that was like one of the rare opportunities where we did everything. Not only did we get to write our pieces but we produced them and also did the editing, you know, went in with the editor to cut it. So it was just like a great... It was like going to college. It was wonderful. It was such a learning experience. And when I left there I just felt like I was equipped to do whatever I wanted to do in this business.

GM: I remember seeing you years ago on an awards show. It was very uncomfortable. It was with Bill Cosby. Do you have any kind of relationship with him?
WS: Um, no. No, I mean, no, no relationship with him. No.

GM: Was he an influence at all?
WS: Uh, oh yeah, definitely. I’m still a fan of, you know, of his work. And, you know, Cosby show was huge. Yeah, I think he’s very funny. Uh, so, yeah.

GM: I don’t remember the details of that night.
WS: Yeah, I mean, it was awkward and I was, you know, really on my way to talk to Larry David anyway and it just happened so quickly and, uh,... I don’t know.

GM: Charlie Sheen is playing in Vancouver on Monday. What do you think of that whole situation?
WS: It’s amazing to me. I mean, people want to see a train wreck. So, hey, that’s a great train wreck.

GM: Established comics like yourself, who put in the work and perform, now see this guy just selling out places. You’re right, people want to see a train wreck, but do you resent it a little bit?
WS: No. If people have the money to go see him, they’re curious. I think that’s great. I mean, I’m not saying that’s great but it’s good for the economy. If people have that kind of money that’s a sign that things are turning around if Charlie Sheen is selling out places without really an act. I wouldn’t put him as a comedian. I mean, to me, you can ask Lady Gaga the same question, is she upset about it?

GM: Since you came out of the closet, has there been any fallout like there was with Ellen? Or is America past that and she was the one who took the brunt of it?
WS: Has there been any fallout? No. Everything has been positive. I wasn’t really living my life closeted; I just didn’t feel like I needed to make a public announcement or tell people, total strangers, about my sexuality. But it’s all been great. It’s all been positive. I’m very happy I did it because it’s been a positive step for the LGBT community and also for the kids out there who are going through bullying and other situations and facing discrimination. So to have somebody with a face that they can go, “Oh, okay, she’s in the same boat” or “she’s supporting us”, it helps them and that makes it even better.

GM: Have there been a difference in crowds since you came out?
WS: I think the gay community, they just let me know that they’re there. You know, they might be a little more vocal and say, “Hey”, you know, “We love you. We’re here.” But that’s about it. My audiences are pretty diverse. Age, race, sexual orientation, they’re all over the place.

GM: And your material is for anybody, not specifically gay audiences.
WS: Oh, yeah, definitely. I think people in general relate on so many other levels other than, you know, who you sleep with. That’s like the least common area that we have.

GM: Kobe Bryant got in trouble the other day because of using a homophobic slur. Occasionally a comic will get in trouble for what they say. Do you think comics should get a pass because they deal in irony and language and things like this?
WS: I don’t think a comic could get a pass in that particular situation. Saying it in anger and also in a televised game or whatever... But comics can pretty much say what they want to say when they’re on stage and performing and doing their material. You can pretty much say just about anything. Because that’s the nature of what we do. But that’s where comedy can get in trouble. I mean, look at Michael Richards. Even though he was technically working, he’s on stage, he still couldn’t get away with that because it wasn’t part of his act; he just went off with the n-words. I think if a comic goes off and it’s not part of the act, then you’re still held to the same standard.

GM: When you got in trouble at the White House, that was part of a routine...
WS: Exactly.

GM: And you chose those words for comedic effect.
WS: Right.

GM: I know you gotta run, so last question. I know you’re a parent of twins.
WS: Yes, they just celebrated their second birthday yesterday. They just turned two.

GM: It’s lots of fun.
WS: Oh, yeah.

GM: Have they become fodder for the act?
WS: Oh, definitely. It’s not like I’m looking for them to do anything funny, it’s just how being a mom and having kids, especially at, you know, I’m 47... It’s just what my life is right now. So there’s a lot of humour there.

GM: I appreciate that you gave them normal names even though you’re a celebrity.
WS: (laughs) Oh, yeah. We were thinking of something like a Tree but it’s just not... yeah. We just go with normal names.

GM: Thanks so much for your time.
WS: Why, thank you.

Patton Oswalt semi-interview

Just got off the phone with alt-comedy superhero Patton Oswalt. And boy is my brain tired! Tired from winging it, scrambling around trying to come up with an angle that would get him talking. He remains, out of the literally hundreds of interviews I've done with comedians, from amateur to headliner to touring celebrity, by far the most challenging interview subject. Scroll down for the transcript of the ten-minute conversation we had.

It's poor form for a journalist to comment on the quality of interview in a story, and I wouldn't even mention this if I were writing a proper preview. I'd just pick some of the better quotes from the interview and build the story around it. But this is a blog and I thought I'd give a glimpse into my process. And by all means, please do not judge his stand-up act from his rather passive-aggressive nature in phoners with the press. I don't. I've seen him live at least twice that I can remember and he's great on stage. Really funny and smart. (I use the term 'passive-aggressive' because his tone remains friendly throughout even though he's clearly not interested in giving too much.) And in no way should you take it as a reflection on the type of person he is. By all accounts he's a super-nice guy. He just doesn't like doing press. Fair enough. I say he shouldn't. Just tell the promoters you don't do press. Maybe it's frustrating for him that he isn't the star he feels he should be, considering his credits (Comedians of Comedy, King of Queens, Ratatouille, among many more). Jerry Seinfeld doesn't do press and doesn't have to because his shows sell out. Many artists don't do press if their shows sell out. Based on his abilities, Oswalt's shows should sell out. He's that good. So he could be resentful. But I'm projecting.

I sort of have a rule of thumb: if an interview doesn't go well, I blame myself. I need to make a connection with the subject and ask interesting questions. Some subjects are naturally chatty (Norm MacDonald wouldn't get off the phone with me – we spoke for 90 minutes), whereas others require some finesse (Jimmie Walker was extremely tight-lipped and leery until I proved to him I wouldn't bite and then he opened up and it turned out great). This was my second time talking to Oswalt and despite the curt replies I received the first time around (as did a colleague at a competing newspaper), I had high hopes this time.

This interview opportunity came up only yesterday. Too late for me to run anything in the paper to fully plug his upcoming show on Saturday night at the Vogue Theatre. So I knew it would be a quickie. I wanted to talk to him about a great essay he wrote in his book, Zombie Spaceship Wasteland called The Victory Tour, in which he describes the worst two weeks of his professional career: working at a comedy club in Surrey. That's it, really. And to give a plug to his upcoming show here in the blog.

Doing my radio show/podcast each week for the past six years has given me experience in knowing how much to prepare for an hour-long interview. Usually, I over-prepare and have way more questions left after the hour is up. Keep in mind, that's very little. That's because most performers going into an interview situation like to talk. That's what they do for a living, afterall. They don't look at each question as a literal question to be answered succinctly, but as a jumping-off point for conversation.

The way I work is I jot down a series of questions. I ask one question then follow-up naturally based on their answer, so that one question might represent five minutes of conversation. When that topic is exhausted, I move on to the next question. The problem with a guy like Oswalt is that he provides short answers and there is no give-and-take. With a short answer, there's not much for me to work with on a follow-up. If I rephrase the question, the answer gets shorter. So then it's on to the next topic. Rinse and repeat.

I've heard Oswalt on podcasts and I know he can converse so I'm guessing it's partly that he doesn't know me. To him, I'm just part of the stupid duplicitous press asking superficial question that are beneath him. I'm sure there's a way I could have reached him better. I just don't know what it is. You can read the transcript and maybe you'll conclude that my questions were weak and uninteresting. And maybe they were. Yes, many of them were closed. That is, they required a yes/no answer. But that's only if you choose to answer them that way. In 99 percent of interviews I do, a yes/no question – or even a statement – will provide just as good a response as a carefully-worded open-ended question. Because it's a conversation. I also know that those same questions asked to virtually anybody else I've ever interviewed (save for Steven Wright), would have netted a 20-minute talk at minimum, i.e. at least twice as long as this one ran. But be that as it may, there is something of interest here. Maybe.

Guy MacPherson: So you’re coming back to Vancouver. That’s good to see.

Patton Oswalt: Mm-hmm.

GM: And it’s not Surrey.

PO: Say that again?

GM: (louder) I’m saying it’s good that it’s Vancouver for you and not Surrey. I read your essay in your book.

PO: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah! Yeah, that’s definitely a relief.

GM: Very entertaining. How much of that was poetic licence? Do you keep notes? How do you remember all that?

PO: I remember keeping notes on that one right after… well, as it was going on, in an old, old notebook. And I went through it and I realized, oh, that’s actually a really good story and it encapsulates a lot of what’s bad about being on the road.

GM: Yeah, it sure does. It seems – and it could have just been the whole situation or your early days – but it seems like a really lonely existence. Is it as much now?

PO: Um, well now I’m lucky enough that I don’t have to go out for weeks at a time and for the most part I can try to pick my openers so I can hang out with somebody that I like.

GM: I see that you’ve picked Graham Clark, is that right?

PO: (pause) Yes. (pause)

GM: Yeah, yeah. Good local comic here.

PO: He’s funny.

GM: Was the Smile Hole the Comedy Cave?

PO: Yes.

GM: You know, I never went there so I don’t know the people involved. Any hints?

PO: (pause) Say that again?

GM: Are there any hints as to who was who? Who was Reed? Who was Gary?

PO: I forget their real names. I think Reed might have been a guy named Sean. I’m not really… That part is very hazy.

GM: Right.

PO: I just remember it as being around bad people.

GM: But that character Gary was really a comic who was taking jokes out of joke books and doing knock-knock jokes and stuff?

PO: Yes, he was like a friend of the owner’s. He would go onstage and just recycle old jokes.

GM: Do you know that Surrey is the default local shitty area that comics joke about?

PO: That I did not know.

GM: Yeah. That’s standard. Surrey is that place.

PO: Wow.

GM: Have you been back to Surrey since?

PO: No. (pause)

GM: So when did you get turned off the clubs? That obviously helped, right?

PO: That was one of, you know, a thousand little incidents that made me try to work harder so that I could start doing small theatres and rock clubs and not do comedy clubs anymore.

GM: What is a good thing about clubs? It couldn’t have been all bad, right?

PO: Good thing about comedy clubs?

GM: Yeah. Anything?

PO: Nothing.

GM: (laughing) Really!

PO: They’re all bad. (pause) It’s just not a form that I work well with anymore. I don’t want to compete with snacks and drinks. I know that sounds snotty but I’ve just chosen this newer path and I want to stick to it just as long as I can. Clubs are not fun when you’ve been doing comedy for a long time. They’re just not.

GM: That is the worst part, I think, all the interruptions from the wait staff and everything.

PO: Yeah, it’s just so false. The whole feeling is not the way that comedy or performance should be done.

GM: You paint the [Surrey] club and its patrons as awful, but you also were saying that you weren’t funny. I mean, you were a few years into it.

PO: I mean, I was young. I didn’t have the experience to deal with it.

GM: Right. So it was kind of like a perfect storm of awfulness.

PO: Oh, totally. Yeah, yeah. An inexperienced guy with arrogance beyond his skills faced with an audience who were demanding things above their own paygrade. Everything was awful.

GM: I heard you talking with Marc Maron about your youthful arrogance and things like that.

PO: Oh, yeah. You’re supposed to be arrogant when you’re young. Because you don’t know anything yet so the only way you can kind of assert yourself and form yourself is by being vocal about what you hate and what you disdain. But you haven’t really created anything yet. I mean, I think that’s how a lot of youth is and then that is what leads to wisdom.

GM: Yeah, I guess that’s true. We all know all the answers when we’re young and as we get older we start to know more questions. We realize we don’t know as much.

PO: Sure. (pause)

GM: You talk about reading in your book, but you can tell from your writing that you’re a reader, too. And that’s a compliment because, you know, you’re a good writer and not all comics are even though they put out entertaining books. Yours is a little more crafted, I think.

PO: Um, I try to, yeah, but I try not to lose the soul through the lattice of the craftwork.

GM: Yeah, yeah, definitely. It’s not Nabokov but it’s still craft, right? I believe that a lot of good comics are really good readers. I don’t base that on anything other than a hunch but do you find from the comics that you know that the best ones read a lot? Or is there no correlation there at all?

PO: I don’t really know what the correlation is because I don’t have a solid line as to the reading habits of every good comic, but I’m going to assume they either read a lot or try to be aware and connected with the world in one way or another.

GM: It’s a language thing, too. It’s spoken but you’re crafting specific words. There are some comics that just go out there and are naturally funnyish, but for me, anyway, the good comics really craft words or think a lot about the words they’re choosing. (pause) Right? Would you agree with that?

PO: Oh, definitely. Yeah. (pause) I-I agree. (pause)

GM: Yup. Good. I’m moving along.

PO: (pause) Okay.

GM: (pause as I scramble for the next question) How long did the book take to put together? Were you constantly writing on the road?

PO: As best I could. It’s hard to write on the road. Harder than I thought it would be. It took me about a year to put that together.

GM: Did you decide you wanted to write a book or did they approach you?

PO: I got an offer from an agent and we went to different publishing houses and shopped it around and we found one that we liked that could really get behind it. So, I mean, I’d been doing so much writing at that point on the internet and in different magazines. I think that’s what caught the agent’s attention.

GM: And is it a process that you liked? I mean, you can’t really like having to sit down and come up with stuff, but is it something you would do again?

PO: Oh, yeah, I’m going to do it again. We’re talking about a second book. I liked the process very much. I like sitting down and kinda seeing where my imagination would take me. That actually ended up being really fun.

GM: Do you know if the next one is going to be a similar essay-type book?

PO: Yeah, but maybe more deeper essays, more autobiographical with a more linear structure. We’ll see. I’m sure it’ll change once I do the writing of it. We’ll see.

GM: You’re coming here to the Vogue Saturday. Is it part of a tour or a one-off?

PO: I don’t tour anymore. (pause)

GM: Okay. So it’s not then.

PO: Right.

GM: We saw you last, I think it was two years ago, was it? At the comedy festival?

PO: I forget.

GM: You also played the same theatre, the Vogue Theatre.

PO: Oh, cool!

GM: Yeah, you remember which one it is?

PO: I don’t, I’m sorry. I do a lot of dates.

GM: The act is always evolving and changing. So are we going to see some of the classic bits or are we going to see all new? What is it going to be?

PO: (pause) It’ll be all new. I mean, once I put a bit on an album I don’t do it anymore live.

GM: Right. Well, I don’t know that those were on albums. I’m talking about from when you were here two years ago.

PO: But I put out an album two years ago.

GM: Okay. Right. Okay, great. Now, the situation you had on Broadway with Megan Mullally, did that rock your confidence or did that just strengthen your resolve that she’s an asshole (laughs) or something?

PO: Who can say? (pause)

GM: Well, about you.

PO: Sure.

GM: Did it give you pause and think ‘What am I doing?’ or did you just think, ‘Ah, what’s her problem?’

PO: Ah, who can say?

GM: Ha ha! Is that an artful way of saying ‘no comment’?

PO: (sigh)

GM: Are you going to go back to something like that, go back to live theatre?

PO: (inaudible)

GM: Sorry?

PO: Oh, I don’t know.

GM: No?

PO: (pause) I dunno.

GM: (pause) Alright. (pause) Well. (pause) Thanks for your wordy replies.

PO: Done! Great!

GM: Goodbye.

I should mention here the presenters for Patton Oswalt. They're new to me, but a welcome addition to the comedy scene in town. They're called Funny Farm comedy and they'll be bringing in name acts that don't often play Vancouver. After Oswalt on Saturday, they'll be presenting Tracy Morgan at the Orpheum on May 20 and Rob Schneider at the Vogue on July 22. The more comedy the merrier, I say!

Patton Oswalt

A few weeks ago I wrote about interviewing Patton Oswalt, saying he wasn't the most forthcoming subject I'd ever spoken to. Well, now you can see for yourself. Will you notice? I'm not sure. As I wrote, he was polite enough. It was just a sense I had at the time. Now you can see for yourself. That interviewed is now available at a computer near you. In fact, probably on the very one you're at right now. Just follow this link and presto, you'll be taken back to February 21, 2008 to relive that magical moment. If you disagree with my assessment, feel free to leave a comment after the interview. Or right here on this blog, if you'd rather. Or ignore me altogether.

Misadventures in interviewing

I love interviewing celebrity comedians. They're mostly all really great and engaging. Don't get me wrong. I also have a blast interviewing non-celebrity comics, too, on my show. The ones I'm talking about here are conducted over the phone for print stories. But you can't beat lounging around your pad talking on the phone. Off the top of my head, only two have been less than engaging.

One was Patton Oswalt, who was pleasant enough, but it was a forced pleasantness and he offered absolutely nothing more than he had to. Most comics will treat an interview as it should be treated – as a conversation. But Oswalt took it literally. If there was no direct question, there'd be next to no answer. If there was a yes/no question, you can bet he'd answer with either a yes or a no with zero explanation. I guess he does a lot of interviews with idiots and went into it figuring I was an idiot, too. And maybe I was. But I was also no different than I am with anyone else. Here's the thing: over the years, I've found no correlation between great answer and great question. Sometimes a really original, well-researched question gets a fantastic answer and sometimes it gets nothing. Sometimes a really banal and boring question gets a fantastic answer and sometimes it gets nothing. It all depends on 1) what the interview subject wants to give, and 2) the connection between the subject and me.

I hung up from my interview with Oswalt thinking we didn't really connect and he wasn't all that giving, but I put most of the blame on myself. I always think I should be able to reach whoever I'm talking to – and I usually do. Oswalt certainly was polite enough, so it must have been me. Then, out of the blue, I got an e-mail from a colleague who I rarely see. He didn't know I had spoken to Oswalt. He just wrote me to tell me that he just had the worst interview of his life... and it was with Patton Oswalt. It was enough to turn him off interviewing comedians altogether. What I can't figure out is why someone who wants to promote a show would piss off the very person who can help promote the show. If you don't want to speak to the press, don't. Simple enough. But if you're going to talk, be a professional.

The only other comic I've interviewed who I couldn't reach was Steven Wright. I wrote about that in an earlier post. But with Wright, I figure, that's just the way he is. I can't blame him for that. He eventually warmed up in his own peculiar way but was incapable of really communicating with someone he doesn't know.

Jimmie Walker was a tough nut to crack. He hates doing interviews and didn't want to do one. He's been screwed over by reporters in the past, who sweet-talk him to his face then turn around and bash him in print. That's not my style, but he had no way of knowing that. But I explained to his publicist that I respect him and I only write about comedy and was finally able to finagle one. I call him at the appointed time and he answers the phone quite strangely, I thought. It was like a sexy voice or something. I can't explain it. He was probably just being funny. But I tell him who I am and he immediately shuts down. The first few questions were like pulling teeth. But I persisted and as soon as I showed I knew something about his history outside of Good Times, he started to warm up and it turned out to be one of my favourite interviews.

Beyond that, I've had a couple of funny experiences while conducting phone interviews, both involving my son. These days, I can tell him I've got a phone interview to do and he'll leave me be. But back when he was two or three, it was more challenging.

One morning we got up around 9 and I checked my e-mail at 9:23. I remember the time because the message said Roseanne Barr was available for an interview at 9:25. So I quickly put on a video, explained to my not-quite-two-year-old that I needed to talk on the phone and he couldn't disturb me, then went in the other room to call Roseanne. Because of the situation, I wasn't as comfortable as I usually am. I was walking around talking to her when my son walks in carrying a big race track. I silently motioned "shhh" with my index finger to my lips while Barr was talking. I had forgotten that we hadn't eaten breakfast, which is no problem for me, but when a toddler is hungry, forget about it. That one little motion turned him from happily playing with his toys to bawling his eyes out. I was quietly trying to console him when Roseanne whined in her distinctive nasally voice, "What's wrong with that kid?"

I brushed it off, and got right back to the interview. We talked a bit more and my son started crying again. Roseanne, quite accusingly, I felt at the time, said, "Who's looking after that kid?" I told her I was and she said, "No, you're not. You're talking to some old broad." Then she told me to give him a cookie. It wasn't the smoothest interview I had done and I thought she was being harsh, but when I went back to listen to the tape, I realized she was actually being nice, in her own sweet way.

Fast forward a year and a bit and my son has just learned to poo on the toilet. So he's out of diapers but still needs help. I think you can see where this is leading. I'm expecting a call from Jay Leno's assistant one morning to arrange a time for later that day when I can interview Leno. I had set up a playdate for my kid so I could do the interview in peace. Everything would be fine.

So the boy is in the back yard playing in the dirt and the phone rings, as expected. Leno's assistant is on the line. She says, "I have Jay Leno on the line, can you take it?" Uh... My mind races. I can't say no. He's a busy guy. But I had no time to warn my son. So I stammered, "Sure," and headed to the office to record the call. On the way there, my cordless phone started beeping. It was running out of juice. So I had to pick up the corded phone, meaning I couldn't even walk around or see out to the back yard to check on my son.

So I'm talking to Leno and he's going on like a pro when my son walks in. He starts to talk and I gave him the shush sign again. Being just over three now, he wasn't reduced to tears. In fact, he stopped talking. And then he whispered those five little words I didn't want to hear: "I have to go poo."

Shit.

Leno is still talking and I'm trying to figure out my options. I finally pulled my son's pants down around his ankles and pointed him in the direction of the toilet. It seemed to work. He waddled off towards the bathroom and I was home free, I thought, not realizing he had never once gone on his own before. So a minute passes and he waddles back to the office and whispers, "I don't have to go now." Fine with me. So I put the phone between my ear and shoulder and bend down to pull up my son's pants. Leno is still talking, oblivious, and I'm attempting to offer the appropriate responses. While I'm bending over, the phone squirts out and lands on the floor. I quickly finish the job, send my kid out of the room and pick up the phone. Leno's still talking. I figure I can pick it up on the recording, which I did. It didn't make for the smoothest interview, but he didn't seem to notice.