by Corey Andrew
My reply to that was, ‘That’s retarded,’ which shows you what a seer I am. I never believed it would work. I thought it was too many comedians in the broth, and then they explained to me what happened with ‘Kings of Comedy.’ Just like Hollywood, we’re not original either. Find an idea what works and hop on it. I didn’t know—because I was in Mexico—I didn’t know the ‘Kings of Comedy’ from Shinola. Although I know Cedric (the Entertainer) and I know Steve Harvey personally. And I think Bernie Mac’s funny. The other guy, D.L. Hughley, is a wart on comedy’s ass.
Anyway, we think maybe this will work, too, but we don’t know to what extent. The first night we did 8,500 people. Thought, well, that’s good; 8,500, that’s more than 300. Then it just got bigger, and we kept doing it. The first guy who was on it—Craig Hawksley was his name—I don’t know if he was on some kind of medication or what, but he had to talk to you all the time. He had to keep talking to you. It was like, ‘Hey, man.’ ‘What?’ ‘I’m just talking.’ ‘I’m peein’!’
You can do it to me, but you can’t do it to Jeff, and then he was just an odd sort. Funny guy, but he was an odd sort. He got fired, and they called Larry the Cable Guy, who we all knew anyway. He was already doing fairly well, but not like he’s doing now.
Corey: What happened to the pottery factory?
Ron: The pottery factory? I gave it to the employees.
Corey: Is it still running?
Ron: Yeah, the last time I checked it was still running. Once you get me out of the way, you’ve got a chance.
Corey: Is your picture hanging up there?
Ron: I don’t think so; I really don’t. The thing was I’m way too nice to run a pottery factory in Mexico. You gotta be stern, and I’m not stern, and you’ve also got to have a strong work ethic, and I really don’t. In fact, there’s a famous quote from my grandfather that he used to say: ‘That boy’s got a lot of quit in ‘im.’ So there you go, you know?
Corey: I spoke to Larry a few weeks ago, and he definitely is the same character he is on stage during interviews. Do you ever see a different side of him, or what you see is what you get?
Ron: His dad was a preacher and a pig farmer. Now, he’s smarter than you think he is, but you’d have to know him for like 10 years to figure that out. That’s him. He’s a genuinely gifted comedian. He’s as good at pace, rhythm and timing comedian as I’ve ever seen. When he’s beating crowds to death, they have no idea what he’s doing to ’em, because he’s just so smooth. He’s really talented. He’s also been in front of crowds; he’s always worked his ass off. He’s probably done 10- or 12,000 shows. So, it is kind of what you get. He doesn’t ever get any more sophisticated, and he doesn’t ever dress better, it doesn’t matter what’s going on. We were just having dinner. We were in New York, doing a roast for Foxworthy, and we’re at the Ruth’s Chris Steak House in Downtown Manhattan, and he shows up in shorts and a cut-off shirt. He genuinely doesn’t know. ‘What difference does it make what you dress like?’ That’s his thing. He’s right; what difference does it make? He’s not uncomfortable with it at all. If somebody doesn’t like it, it doesn’t matter to him at all.
Corey: Do you enjoy doing a roast?
Ron: Yeah, it was fun. I don’t think they should have done it in Manhattan. I think they should have done it different. It was OK. It was fun to go to New York. It was fun to see the guys. I don’t see them that much, because they do the TV show. We all tour separately. Jeff doesn’t really tour that much. I’m gonna see them tomorrow, because they’re helping me with a promo to my show, which will be very, very funny if it’s done right.
Corey: Do you remember any lines you said about Jeff at the roast?
Ron: I know I referred to his moustache as ‘prison pussy.’
Corey: That’s one that we’ll have to wait for the DVD for.
Ron: Comedy Central gets pretty bold with what they show. They’ll show ‘South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut,’ uncut, late at night. If you’re looking for language, then you need to look no further than that.
Corey: That’s true. On both your and Larry’s Web sites, you both sell women’s thongs with your catchphrases on there.
Ron: Right, yeah. I have no idea what’s on that Web site. I don’t do it; I don’t touch it. They send me a check. I don’t do anything. If they have a new butt plug, I don’t know anything about it. I find out when somebody comes vibrating up to me. ‘Hey, I got your new butt plug.’ ‘Good.’ ‘Got your picture on it. Shoved it right in my ass.’ Well, hallelujah.
Corey: As long as you’re getting paid.
Ron: I would have said ‘no’ to some of them things. I don’t think you need a Tater Salad cock ring, but they are selling. Turns out I am a capitalist.
Corey: Back when I saw the heart attack show some 10 years ago, you were telling the Tater legend. Has it grown throughout the years, or have people that were involved with that particular tale ever come up to you at a show?
Ron: Nobody that was involved in it came up. The legend, if there is one, has grown on its own. I tell it sometimes; I don’t always tell it.
Corey: But no regrets about being known as ‘Tater Salad?’ if it ends up on your tombstone?
Ron: I’m gonna be just fine with it. That story at the end of that is what really solidified my popularity in that group, I think. All of it together added up to my deck of this house overlooking a Greg Norman-designed golf course and swimming pool with a couple waterfalls.
Corey: What would you like inscribed on your tombstone?
Ron: ‘Live wrong.’
Corey: When you did signings for your book, did you get to meet any interesting characters?
Ron: To tell the truth it was a great chance for me to meet and talk with the fans, because I don’t sign autographs after the shows because the shows are getting too big to do that. It was a great chance to sit down and shake some hands. It’s amazing how many people showed up. They would just get in line and stay there like I was Santa Claus. I expected someone to ask for a pony or something.
Corey: Some say that with age comes wisdom. How is turning 50 treating you?
Ron: (laughs) I’d say they lied. I don’t know. I don’t feel smart, that’s for sure. I’m a one-trick pony. But it’s a good trick. I can get up on stage and talk without it bothering me. And I’m funny. Am I any wiser? Probably not. I make the same mistakes over and over.
Corey: Are there any life lessons you’ve passed to your kids?
Ron: Uh, the clitoris is as sensitive as an eyeball. I think that’s the only thing of any importance I’ve taught ’em at all.
Jeff Foxworthy
King of the redneck one-liners, Jeff Foxworthy is one of the most respected comedians in the business.
I’ve spoken with many of his contemporaries like Kathleen Madigan and his Blue Collar Brothers in Bare Arms, like Larry the Cable Guy and Bill Engvall, who speak of his unquestioning generosity.
If there’s darkness and despair fueling the comedy behind his constant ‘stache, I couldn’t conjure it. I found him to be quite the charming Southern gentleman—and redneck to the marrow.
Corey: Do you feel like you have to get in comedy shape to get back on the road?
Jeff Foxworthy: No, all you have to do is look at Larry, and you feel a little better about your own physique. It’s funny, I remember when I started doing this, I was hoping I would get to do stand-up for a couple of years, and then I figured it would peter out and I would have to go back with my hat in my hand and beg for my job back. This is the start of the 22nd year. The older you get, the road wears you out a little bit. I probably take better care of myself now better than I did 20 years ago.
Corey: The other three guys said you helped them in the business. Have you noticed a change in them?
Jeff: It’s funny, you know, career-wise, it’s probably changed for all of them. But the fact that we’ve all been friends for 20 years, that’s the most gratifying thing for me—especially when we first started doing
it, because really nobody knew who Larry or Ron was, and I knew for two decades that they were funny. They just never had gotten the exposure. To see them have the success is a cool thing.
It’s funny; everybody handles it in a different way. Larry hasn’t changed a bit. About an hour south of the airport here in Atlanta, I have a couple thousand acres, and I go down there and work on my farm. I take the kids to school and go down there for four or five hours and work, come home. I go down there in September and go in my barn and there’s a brand new, giant tractor in there with a bow on it that says, ‘Happy Birthday, thanks for everything you’ve done for me, Larry.’
And Ron’s a little redneck rich right now. Ron’s doing a bit of the Elvis thing right now, the big houses, and the cars and the cigars. Ron’s like, ‘You knew this was gonna happen to me.’
I remember saying to him, eight or nine years ago, ‘I sometimes wonder why all this good stuff has happened to me, and there was all these funny people we started out with, and it just never panned out.’ Ron said, ‘I think it’s ’cause God knew you’d do the right thing with it and the rest of us would just lay around, smoke dope and watch cartoons.’
Corey: When people think of you, it’s as a nice guy. So are you always a nice guy or sometimes not nice?
Jeff: I try real hard to be a nice guy. I say try real hard, like my nature is to go out and slit throats. I think that kind of the fortunate thing for me is I’m pretty much what you see. I don’t have to get prepared to go out onstage or anything, especially as I’ve gotten older and had kids. I believe life is about balance. I’ve turned down stuff, career wise. I turned down a movie last year with Robin Williams because I was going to be nine weeks away.
As fun as that would have been, I don’t want to miss nine weeks with my kids in the summertime. I love this thing that I do. I probably love it more now than ever. I think I have a greater appreciation for stand-up now than I ever have.
There’s a lot of people who get into it because they want to get into TV or movies. There’s nothing wrong with that. The Steve Martins, the Eddie Murphys, the Adam Sandlers. Then there’s some people, like Cosby, who’s worth a billion dollars, he’s still doing stand-up because he loves it. There’s very few people like that.
Being able to still do it and hopefully still be funny is very cool this far into it., which is my greatest fear. That’s the thing I always tell my wife. ‘Please tell me if I stop being funny,’ because there’s nothing worse than a comic that’s not funny anymore.
Corey: When you do a show with these three guys, you have to come out with new stuff. How do you balance the old classics with the new?
Jeff: I think for a comic, you always want to do the new stuff. I have these arguments sometime with Ron and Larry, because Ron will say, ‘You’ve got 10 hours of material. You’ve got all this great stuff you haven’t told in 15 years, and you should do some of that stuff.’ And I’m, like, ‘Yeah, but that’s old stuff.’
When it’s me by myself I try to do that balance, do the new stuff, then do a few things people are familiar with, then digging up something I haven’t done in forever, which is like new stuff to most people. But when I’m with them, we’re mostly doing the new stuff, because we’re trying to make each other laugh most of the time. It’s funny, it’s like a lot of the old stuff, like Ron telling the Tater Salad story. He used to tell that just sitting around at Denny’s. ‘Ron, you’ve got to tell this on stage.’ ‘You think so?’ ‘Are you kidding me, that’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard.’
Corey: Are there themes for this tour?
Jeff: One of the things I’ve been working on is fashion. Every fashion thing you ever see is geared toward super models, the beautiful people, of which there’s like nine of. Nobody’s doing fashion tips for the rest of the world. That’s one thing I’ve been working on, like certain things should not be sold in certain sizes. If your rear end looks like two full-grown raccoons wrestling in a 50-pound bag of seed corn, say no to Spandex. People need this information.
Corey: You’re known for your moustache. When was the last time you didn’t have it?
Jeff: I didn’t realize my moustache was that big of a deal until that roast. I think it was the summer before my senior year of high school. We’ve been together 21 years; she’s never seen me without it. It’s been there a long time.
Corey: Does it hold some special powers?
Jeff: No, but it may hold some pieces of potato chips. I don’t even know if I have a lip anymore. Ron griped at me when I grew a goatee. ‘Jeff Foxworthy is supposed to have a big moustache. You’re not supposed to have a goatee.’ I don’t even think about it anymore. I guess its just part of who I am.
Corey: And now there’s redneck slot machines.
Jeff: It was one of those things; somebody had an interest in doing it. They’re like, ‘We’re gonna do a redneck slot machine with or without you.’ ‘That being the case, why don’t you do it with me?’ It was kind of fun. Instead of cherries and lemons and things, we had boots and dogs and trucks. Then they did an audio thing of me. They start at a penny; you can play at a penny on up, which I thought was aimed at my crowd. That’s one of those things that nothing in life prepares you for: to walk into a casino and see your face on a slot machine. It’s just weird.
Corey: Do you ever wake up shocked at the popularity of the redneck thing?
Jeff: Shocked. More than anybody probably. In fact, I was working this morning on the page-a-day calendar for next year. I wrote the first redneck joke I think in ’87. Twenty years later, I’m still sitting here writing redneck jokes—and the scary thing is they’re still funny. The very last one I wrote was, ‘If you’ve ever had to hop to the bathroom in a sleeping bag so family members wouldn’t see you nekkid …’ This must be number 7,000.
Corey: Are you still adding words to redneck dictionary?
Jeff: That thing went crazy. That was out of every book I’d ever done. When we started the TV show, they wanted things that were kind of quick hitters. I had done some of these words in the first ‘Blue Collar’ movie. When we started the TV show, ‘Let’s do some of these words as a quick little thing instead of some drawn-out skit.’ We did that, made a mock-up book cover. We got inundated with e-mails from people. We can’t fund this book; it doesn’t exist. We’re making them up. At the end of the first season, sit down and see how many you can write. I thought there may be 40-50 of them and came up with like 700. Something’s bad wrong with my mind. It ended up being No. 2 on the New York Times Bestseller list.
Corey: Is there a difference between redneck versus white trash?
Jeff: I think they’re different. Redneck to me is almost like a state of mind thing. To me, white trash is more, almost like an economic thing. When I started doing it, it never had anything to do with money, because Elvis had $100 million and he was putting carpet and TVs on the ceiling. Elvis was the first guy with the rhinestone kit, and he had a lot of money. To me, that’s what I’ve always said, it’s like a state of mind.
Corey: Do people say ‘Git ’er done’ to you?
Jeff: Yeah. My favorite thing is when they’re wearing a ‘Here’s Your Sign’ T-shirt and want me to sign it. I do it knowing somewhere down the road someone’s going to go, ‘Bob, you idiot, “Here’s your sign,” that’s Bill Engvall’s joke.’ Bill used to get mad at me, because before either of us had done television, we’re in the clubs and people would come up to Bill in the airports and say, ‘We love your redneck jokes.’ He would get mad and go, ‘That’s not me. That’s Jeff Foxworthy.’ And people would come up to me and say, ‘We love your “Here’s your sign” stuff, and I would go, ‘Thank you. I’m so glad you do.’ Bill said, ‘You’ve got to tell them it’s not you.’ I said, ‘No, they like it. If they had said, “We hate it,” I would have gone, “Oh, that’s not me, that’s Bill Engvall.”’
Corey: What’s the first thing that comes to mind when I mention the other three? Larry?
Jeff: You pr
obably couldn’t print it. Fart jokes.
Corey: Ron?
Jeff: Sobriety? A new concept.
Corey: Bill?
Jeff: You know what, friend. I’ve had so much fun doing the TV show with Bill. It was kind of like when you’ve known somebody for that long, we had never done sketch stuff, and Bill was so good at that. It was like seeing somebody in a light you’ve never seen before. Though I worried about him toward the end, he was wearing a dress like every week. At first he volunteered, then it was like, ‘Bill, we’re not even shooting today; you’ve got a dress on.’ He worries me.
I always call Bill the Golden Retriever of our group, because he’s game for anything—happy and his tail’s waggin’. ‘What do you want to do?’ Any group where I’m the mature daddy of the group, they’ve got some problems.