I influenced her last Charlotte show — and her HBO comedy special. She owes me one (ha ha).
Before I tell you about my most recent conversation with the comedian/actress/writer/producer Sarah Silverman, I need to tell you about the chat I had with her last year.
It was in March 2023, she was promoting a pair of stand-up performances that she was staging in North Carolina later in the month, and she was relating to me remarks she’d made — half-jokingly, but also half-seriously — during an appearance on Conan O’Brien’s podcast. “My biggest fear,” she said, “is to get dementia and then be masturbating in public and not realize it or something. I mean, if it’s not everybody’s biggest fear, I hope that upon hearing that, it becomes your biggest fear.”
I suggested she should add this observation to her act, but then quickly wondered aloud if it already was. “It’s not,” Silverman replied, pausing briefly before adding, “God, I should. ... Maybe by the time I’m in Charlotte. If it’s in there in Charlotte, it will be solely because of you.”
And whaddya know? A little more than two weeks later, after finishing a different joke near the end of her set at Ovens Auditorium, she made an announcement.
“I usually close with that ... but I have something special in mind for you ...”
I give you all that backstory as a long setup for a joke featuring this as its punchline: Sarah Silverman owes me one.
In fact, the 53-year-old comic said so herself (ha, ha) when we talked again recently via Zoom, ahead of two brand-new stand-up shows she’ll do in Durham and then Charlotte on Nov. 8 and 9, respectively. But after a lighthearted start, the conversation took a bit of a somber turn — although very thoughtfully, even touchingly so.
Here’s our conversation, edited for clarity and brevity.
Q. So I don’t know if you’re gonna remember this, but: I talked to you a year and a half ago; and I brought up the Conan O’Brien thing where you mentioned, um, getting dementia and masturbating in public; and I asked you if that was in your set. And you said, No, but “if it’s in there in Charlotte, it will be solely because of you.”
Oh my gosh! That’s because of you! That is because of you, that whole bit. That’s amazing! I can’t belie —
Q. You really remember?
I remember! I swear to God, it was born from my conversation with you. I mean, I know I’m godless, but I’m really telling the truth. I immediately incorporated it. It’s a hundred percent from you. You had everything to do with it.
Q. And it’s in the special (“Someone You Love,” the 2023 HBO comedy special she was working on at the time) ...
It’s in the special!
Q. And people like the joke, right?
Yeah! I don’t know. I love it. I mean, that was my closer — or, like, almost my closer. Oh my God. I wish I had you in the, um, thank-yous. I’m so angry I didn’t think of that.
Q. So — somewhat related. And I know we don’t have a ton of time, but I’m gonna tell you a quick story:
Five years ago maybe, Dave Chappelle came to Charlotte, and I didn’t get media credentials; I just went. But I went so I could write about the show, and I took all kinds of notes, then wrote a review that included, in retrospect, too many of his jokes. He wasn’t on tour. It was a one-off. And I wasn’t getting that he was doing it to test material for a special.
So then at the end of the year, he puts out his “Sticks & Stones” special (for Netflix in 2019). I’m watching, and suddenly — he didn’t mention Charlotte, but he goes: “I didn’t know that there was a journalist in the audience. And unfortunately for me, that motherf-----… took impeccable notes. He told everybody everything I said. He was even puttin’ the jokes in the headline.” And I’m sitting there watching a special going, I know he’s talking about me. Then his publicist called me the day after, and she was nice about it, but she’s like, “You can’t just print all of his jokes.”
Anyway, I bring all that up to make the observation that it’s clear comics can get comedy from anywhere, at anytime. Right? I mean, you’re always “on,” aren’t you? Like, I don’t know if you made an actual note about the dementia joke that day we talked, but —
But the funny thing is, a lot of the time — like, when I was talking to you and I told you my biggest fear is getting dementia and then masturbating in public — it takes someone like you to go, “Is that in your act?” A lot of the time, it takes that, for me to go, Oh! Yeah! You know? Because otherwise, so much goes in and out (without me thinking it could work in my set).
Q. So how often does that happen, where someone says that to you? Probably a lot, right?
Well, it’s usually my boyfriend, or a sister, or something. But part of being a good comic that’s prolific is noticing those things — and I don’t. (Laughing.) I don’t. I’m just an empty vessel that just spews stuff. And then hopefully somebody goes, “Hey, you should put that (in your show)!” But my boyfriend does comedy, too, and a lot of times he says stuff that I try to remember. I go, That’s a bit. That’s a bit, that’s a bit.
Q. And when that happens, do you write it down? Or do you try to store it mentally?
No, I have to write it down. Multiple places. I have no memory. None. I can’t remember why I walked into the kitchen anymore. I have to write everything down. And everything is, like, alarms all day: Give the dog the pill; get ready for this; start thinking about this. Yeah, I live off of alarms and notes and reminders everywhere. It’s like “Memento.” I could, like, tattoo reminders on my body.
Q. Along the same lines, are you a Jerry Seinfeld type, where every word is important, or are you more someone who outlines your set and then just kinda goes with it?
I’m never tied to a script at all. It’s not written like a monologue. And there’s all the things I learn from the audience — you know, the same joke can bomb or kill, depending on (all kinds of factors). Like, you realize, Oh, I need to have a pause here, or, I need a tiny word here, or, They need a little more information, or, They need so much less information, or, That setup is too heavy for the lightness of the punchline. There’s all this chemistry. You get beakers of jokes and you’re adding and taking away and stuff until you figure out what works best. And you’ll never get the perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect (version).
But I’m a really meticulous, sloooww honer. That’s why I can’t watch my specials once they’re done. Because it’s too frustrating. Because I could keep honing any of those acts — any of those shows — forever. At a certain point you gotta put it on tape, or digital, or whatever it’s called. You gotta record it, and then kiss it goodbye, ’cause I can’t fit it all in my head.
The show (I’m on the road with now, titled “Postmortem”) is really about — and I’m afraid that people won’t come because of this, but — and it’s hard jokes, I promise — but it’s about my parents dying. They died nine days apart a year ago last May, and when I did my dad’s eulogy, it was really funny. I was like, Oh, this is interesting. And also, it’s just — we all become comedians because we learn to be funny as a means of surviving our childhood. So that kicks in real fast when there’s any kind of adversity, I think, in any of our lives. Or any change. You know? Like, when a comic has a kid, that’s a new hour. The kid turns 10, that’s another hour.
It’s how we mark time in a lot of ways.
Q. Well, I wanted to ask about your parents, now that you’ve had time now to process some of that grief. First of all, how you’re doing? But also, how has it changed you?
You’re never old enough to lose your parents and be okay. You know what I mean? You’re just not. And I was very close with them. Maybe it’s even harder if you aren’t close with them, but my dad was my best friend; my stepmother, I was really close with. I saw them every Sunday. So I really ache for them, but it’s not just sorrow. It’s kind of a happy ache, too. And doing a show about it has been so cathartic and great in terms of processing, but also, it hurts a little every time.
Q. Well, I’m very fortunate that both of my parents are still living. They’re in Philadelphia. I’m in Charlotte, obviously. I see them a couple times a year, and I’m actually about to go up and visit them for three days. But they’re moving through their 80s now. So I was wondering — in thinking about your own parents, and having lost them — what advice would you have for someone like me, who has limited time left with them?
You know, it’s funny. With my bio mom, we were close, but it was much more strained. We loved each other, but I would try to — this sounds dark, but I would try to imagine that she died before she died. Because I knew all the good would float to the top. I just wanted to be able to just love her, only. And it helps a little, but you really just don’t get there until they do, and then the second they’re gone, you’re like, Oh! This, this, this, this! She was amazing! You see the human being. You can see the human being in your parents.
A lot of our stress around seeing our parents is kind of ego, in an odd way, because you’re seeing them (do something that irritates you and) you go, “Oh, God...” You know, that kind of thing with parents, you’re like, “Oh, God!” But that’s in relation to you. If they were someone else’s parents, you would just see the best, and you’d go, “Oh, they’re cool! Oh, my God, it’s funny when she does that!” You’d give them so much more leeway. And if you can find a way into seeing them that way — as separate people from yourself, that you can love with all their foibles, or whatever — it’s a gift.
Note: At this point, a representative dropped a message into the Zoom chat saying, “That’s all the time we have.”
(Looking toward the bottom right-hand corner of her screen.) Anyway, come to my comedy show! (Laughing.)
Q. Ah. Yeah, “That’s all the time we have ...”
F---. Sorry. I hope you have enough. I mean, this is gonna be a good article. You made my last special.
Sarah Silverman in N.C.
When: 8 p.m. Friday, Nov. 8, at Durham Performing Arts Center, 123 Vivian St., Durham; and 8 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 9, at Ovens Auditorium, 2900 E. Independence Blvd., Charlotte.
Tickets: $42.50 and up in Durham and $45 and up in Charlotte, via livenation.com.
This story was originally published October 17, 2024 at 9:11 AM.
