It’s not good to name drop (Bob Saget told me this)

Bob Saget’s phone call came about an hour late, but he was very apologetic. His excuse had to do with John Stamos, a Broadway staging of Bye Bye Birdie and an unfortunate mishap. Don Rickles heckled from the crowd. And the story ended with Saget, the hero, coming to the rescue, armed only with his with love of Stamos and sharp wit. But he injured himself in the process of saving Uncle Jesse from a bombed stage performance and had to get fluid drained from his knee. It sounded like the plot of a weird porno movie. Or a Freudian nightmare.

But it was all true. Saget, just back from the doctor’s office, was feeling calm, rejuvenated and overwhelmingly heterosexual.

How’s it going?

I’ve been doing yoga. You ever done that?

I’ve wanted to, but I can’t seem to get myself on the floor.

One of the things I luxuriate myself on—that’s not even a word—is one-on-one yoga. And it’s kind of cool because—well, no matter how you look at it—it’s fruity.

Yeah, it is.

I think watching me do yoga in a class would be better than watching my stand-up. It’s so sad; I’m angular and 6 feet tall. But I can do the thing where you balance your knees on your elbows and stuff. I’m vulnerable, because I’ve been doing so much yoga.

And then I was at Bye Bye Birdie watching my dear friend John Stamos, but there was a gap in the show. One of the pieces of scenery didn’t [work] and they had to shut the curtain down. Don Rickles was very funny, heckling. I got onstage, but [I fell because] there were no steps. Some article quoted me as saying, “I think I hurt my leg really badly.”

And you did. It was a heroic act.

It was so heroic. There’s something, you know, about coming to the rescue in theater. … [Stamos] said, “No matter what you do, you’re the proudest gay man of all because you’re on Broadway.” You’re on Broadway and you’re automatically gay.

Especially if you’re saved by a guy who does yoga.

Especially if you get saved by a guy who was Danny Tanner.

Right.

I did The Drowsy Chaperone a couple years ago on Broadway, and there was one time the curtain went up, the lights were down and one of my mics [inside my pants] went out. The curtain goes up. It’s in the dark, but somebody left the light on so they could see some man with his hand down my pants before the show began. I’m like, “Close the curtain!” And then the show started. Fortunately, it was kind of a foolproof monologue, where I was able to say [because the first line of the show is], “I hate theater.” And the guy explains why he hates theater. One reason was technical mishaps.

So far everything you’ve told me makes you the gayest man on Earth.

It is. There’s nothing I can do. And yet I find it very hard just showing up as incredibly hetero as I am. Lately, someone will say something like, “Any rumors that you played a gay guy on Full House have been dispelled by what you’re like onstage, dude.” I don’t know if it’s a compliment: “Hey man, you’re not gay.” What does that mean?

Were you funny as a kid?

No, not at all.

More of an observer?

Yeah, I was painfully shy.

That’s funny, because comics usually fall into that area, too. Jerry Seinfeld would say a lot of funny things but a lot of the time he would just be watching. And Chris Rock is just listening. And that can also make a funny person: the shy person.

Man, it’s weird to hear you drop all these names.

It just came up today that a comedian will have a joke, and then everybody will do that joke. So I got that one that I made up 20 years ago. I’ve been doing it forever. The joke was: “It’s not good to name-drop. Robert De Niro told me that.” Like 10 people are doing that joke right now. It’s a big compliment, but it always feels like someone came in and stole your toothbrush. Not that that it wouldn’t be thought of by someone else, but whoever stuck the stick in the top of the anthill first thinks they discovered it.

That’s really gay.

It is so fruity. In an ant hill? But if it’s Stand by Me or Lord of the Flies, then it’s not gay. It’s child dementia.

Totally different.

Then it’s a little kid that did things to animals when he was young. Which I did. I was, like, 9. I didn’t know. But it was only like ants on the sidewalk and that kind of stuff. I had sex with them.

Was there ever a point in your life when you were like, “I’m Danny Tanner and I’m fucked”?

No, because I didn’t start like that. I started doing stand-up when I was 17. … And then I got Full House, and I was excited as hell to get a prime-time sitcom. And then I had another year of [America’s Funniest Home Videos], and those are two things that don’t even happen in a lifetime. Full House was made for 12-year-old girls, you know? I get bodybuilders that come in and go, “Yo, you raised me, dude.” And I’m like, “Oh my God, a guy in a cardigan sweater who would talk to his daughter and then the organ would play [raised you].”

So how did you like your Comedy Central roast?

It was fun. At first I was pretty nerve-racked. When Greg Giraldo goes up and he’s going to start bashing you, you might as well open your chest up and stick a live grenade in it, because you know he’s going to hit the deepest core of what bullshit you are. I wanted to do it because Stamos said he would be the toastmaster. And my friend [Jeffrey] Ross, the self-proclaimed roast master, and Norm Macdonald [were there]. And I’ve become very close with Jeff Garlin. We weren’t as close before. He even said on the air that I had met him like 20 years before and asked him how his grandmother’s vagina was. And then he fell in love with me. Do you interview a bunch of stand-ups?

No, the last one I interviewed was Paul Rodriguez, and he was incredibly depressing.

It happens. I’ve known him forever. He’s really talented and he loves doing it. And then I see … a lot of girls that I like—but I can’t really check them out. I can’t really date a comedienne because it just wouldn’t really work.

Why?

They’d take my stuff and—

You’d have to murder?

They’d beg! No, funny women are the biggest turn-on to me.

Sarah Silverman is extremely hot.

She’s just a great person, too. We did a show once years ago at Northeastern [University] and it was the whitest, most Jewish event of the year. It was really fun. There’s some really funny women coming out, too—I would say Lisa Lampanelli, but is she really a woman? Please don’t print that.

So you’re coming to Sacramento?

I’m excited! And I know it’s [at] the Crest Theatre, so if anything happens, we can just run some old porn movie. I used to come up to Sacramento to Laughs Unlimited all the time. I was doing “Old Sac” jokes before I had one. And I used to get drunk and walk through the train museum even though it was closed. They didn’t have good security. What are you going to do, steal a train? I haven’t been there in years. I was actually up there doing a whole “go green” campaign for Maria Shriver … and what we need to do—and this will solve everything—is replace gasoline with pot. And then what happens is you have to legalize [marijuana]. Because it’s the fuel.

I think you’re onto something.

Yeah, I think I’m a genius. How could a guy that says that not be straight?

I don’t know. You’re a heterosexual genius.

And then two hours ago, I had a man sticking a 3-inch needle into my knee and sucking out fluid. And it does not get straighter than that.

No, I’m really looking forward to [the show at the Crest]. But, because of the knee thing, they’ll probably have to medevac me out. And I’ll do most of the show through a computer-generated voice.

Like Stephen Hawking.

I didn’t say that. You did. I can’t use his name in a sentence.

He’s a genius.

He’s a genius. And he left his wife. I don’t even know how that happens. I mean, you blow into the tube and you just move forward? You can’t put that in the paper or there’ll be no handicap row.