Tommy Smothers still gets plenty of love
By Neal Justin
Star Tribune (Minneapolis)
It’s a good time to be Tommy Smothers. Steve Martin handed him a special Emmy last year for his contributions to ’60s television. An authorized book on the Smothers Brothers comes out next March.
Smothers, 72, chatted by phone about his career and his comedy:
Q. You and Dick have been performing for more than 50 years. How long are you going to keep doing this?
A. Until our fans can’t get their walkers up the aisle. I don’t know why comedians keep going. Of all the jobs in the world, it might be the only one where you get an immediate response. You don’t get it at home. No family thinks their dad is funny. I’m guessing I’m good for another two years. I’ll know it’s time when either we stop having fun or the crowds start to drop.
Q. You ever fight with your brother?
A. We had couples counseling about 12 years ago. We weren’t getting along too good. We couldn’t give each other notes. So Dick contacted this man and woman who work with corporations and couples and we tried it. We spent about 18 hours, clearing the air and arguing about timing. They advised us to stop treating each other like brothers and start being professional. It’s something we should have done a long time ago. When we used to fight, it would get nasty. People would leave the room.
Q. Despite those hiccups, you two have been together a long time. How come there aren’t more comedy teams on the scene?
A. It’s too hard. You’re having a three-way conversation. It’s you and your partner and then the audience. No comedy team lasts more than 10 years. You’re splitting the check with someone and having to put up with their moods. Even Laurel and Hardy didn’t go that long. And no one copies the Smothers Brothers, except for that line, “Mom always liked you best.”
Q. But many comics have copied your stutter. How did that become part of your act?
A. I picked it up when I was 12 or 13. I was very dyslexic and didn’t know it. They always treated me like the dumbest one in the class, so I decided, “Well, I’ll show them,” and I started talking like I was slow-witted, just to make people uncomfortable. I called it “puberty comedy.”
Q. You received a special achievement award at last year’s Emmys. How did that make you feel?
A. At first, I wasn’t for it. It seemed like a stunt more than anything else. Then I realized, “Hey, this is cool.” It turned out to be a nice emotional-diva moment.