The A.V. Club Interview: Rob Delaney

Kyle Ryan: What are the advantages of coming to comedy later? Are there any?

Rob Delaney: Well, for one, I think you’ll be funnier—just because you’ve lived more life. You’ve had more bad things happen, you’ve lost things you cared about, you’ve made mistakes and bad decisions, you’ve caused yourself a lot of pain. Maybe you’ve figured out one or two ways to do less of that, so you can offer something of value to an audience.

Comedians who are 22 years old can certainly be funny and clever, and be capable of telling jokes—but are they talking about their favorite TV shows, or a particular brand of shampoo? Whereas when you see someone who’s 42, and they’re talking about how much their adolescent son hates them, and is like, “We were fighting, and my son knocked over my television, and it broke my foot, and then he gave me a ride to the hospital, and he’s not allowed to drive, but I couldn’t, because my ankle is broken, and then we stopped and we shared a cigarette.” You know, there’s just more recipe for laughs—you’ve had more time to collect ingredients, and there’s more of life’s tapestry that’s been woven.

KR: Do you think there are any disadvantages?

RD: I really don’t, because the odds against success in comedy, and in most things that are difficult to achieve, or are “dream careers,” are so severe, so stacked against you, that any asset you can have, you just have to snort up and internalize and use. Having life under your belt and a work ethic that you have honed—maybe you were lazy until you were 27, and then you looked around and realized, “Holy shit, if I don’t get my act together and produce dependably, then life will definitely pass me by.” You know the value of a dollar.

Four years ago, when I started tweeting, people would say, “How do you feel about giving away material for free?” I said, “Well, no one will pay me for it, and I’ve got to get it out there.” So I would constantly churn out jokes saying, “Hey, look at me, I have a work ethic. Please, please, please world, hire me so I can afford pants, and cheese, and heat.” That was another thing, being married—my wife was not yet pregnant, but I didn’t have a choice but to succeed. It was either that or the unthinkable, a fate that I associate with death, which is not doing comedy. That was the other choice, so I just had to work furiously to get out there, with no promise of success. When I thought about other careers, I thought about death. I know that might sound morbid and not funny at all, but it is truly how I felt.

The A.V. Club Interview: Rob Delaney / By Kyle Ryan / June 1, 2012