Since the last time we caught up with comedian Hari Kondabolu in October of 2019, so much has happened — both in the world and in his life.
In fact, his experience becoming a father during the COVID-19 pandemic is a major focus of his latest special, Vacation Baby.
Kondabolu will be performing a new hour this weekend at Loft Comedy Club in Chicopee, Massachusetts on Friday and Saturday. And as noted in his special, he can be heard often on these airwaves on shows like “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me.”
Was there a point when you realized you were cool in these circles?
I mean, the big one for me is when I did ‘Fresh Air,’ like I didn't know I was somebody…this was like a decade ago, when I released my first album ‘Waiting for 2042.’ Like, that's when it hit me like, Oh, I think these are my people. I just didn't realize that. Once Terry Gross gives you the stamp of approval, it's like, you know, then ‘All Things Considered,’ then ‘Morning Edition,’ and then you just go down the line. So it's been pretty amazing.
You joke about your level of fame in this special. Do you get recognized a lot in the wild?
If you mean like Brooklyn, Oakland, San Francisco, Seattle. I mean, certainly there are cities and parts of cities that like I'm more likely to be recognized. Obviously, if it's from the radio, they're not going to know necessarily unless they look it up. You know, but it happens every now and then. People hear my name and they immediately associate it with like, ‘Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me,’ which I'm actually on this weekend strangely enough.
Oh, cool.
I mean, it happens, you know, but certainly my goal as a comedian is to not just be someone who reaches big cities and big markets. I want to be reaching a wider audience. And that's kind of one of the goals. You know, I played Tulsa earlier this year, I've been playing Ithaca, New York, like a variety of different places where a lot of comics wouldn't normally go as part of their tour. To me, it's important that we reach out as artists.
One thing you joke about in the latest special is how a joke may or may not be told in a place like Richmond, Virginia, as opposed to in Brooklyn, where you taped this special. Do you find that your material lands differently in different parts of the country?
Yeah, I mean, certainly, it very much depends on who's in a crowd, because I've had chosen really liberal cities that don't go well, because it depends on who's in the crowd. If you're from like a suburb or an exurb and you go into the city for a weekend, your expectation of what comedy is is going to be a lot different, most likely from what I do, like you're not expecting, oh, colonialism on a Saturday night. What is this? Why are we talking about colonialism right now? So that is always dependent. But I feel like I'm definitely more of a novelty in terms of my material in cities like Tulsa, or, you know, throughout the Midwest and the South, you know, the East Coast in any city that like, maybe isn't like a big city where, you know, we're I'm definitely going to be kind of a curiosity in the sense of like, OK, he's a brown comic, he's talking about things that are hard and political, there can be a bit of righteous indignation. And yet, this is still comedy. So it's definitely depends from place to place. But, you know, the funny thing about this special is I keep talking about how there are jokes I won't do in Richmond, Virginia. But the truth of the matter is, I do those jokes in Richmond, Virgini, as well. It’s just funny, I think, to be self-righteous and at the same time show that you're a coward. So in the special I constantly pretend that I'll speak truth to power unless there's consequences. But in truth, I actually do that material there too, because I feel like if you're a good comic, you find a way.
You joke in a lot of your comedy about the sort of second generation immigrant experience and maybe letting your parents down by getting into comedy as opposed to medicine or something like that. Have they accepted how things have turned out for you given your level of success to this point?
Oh, yeah, once you're on television, it's different. Thenit's legit, then it's like, you appear in a in a movie or two, and some TV shows, it's very different than all of a sudden, you can tell people he's a comedian. No, really, he is. And here's clips. And here's him on TV. And here's people saying his name. So I think a lot of it is like what other people perceive. And certainly I think having that helps my parents. But I will also say I've been doing this since I was 17. I'm 41. They also are very proud at this point. It took them a while, but I see how my mom talks about like, you know, don't worry how people are going to react; you do what you do, and you should be proud of what you do. And a decade ago, I'd be shocked to have heard that. They have grown with me. And I think we forget sometimes that our parents are also like living things who have a range of experiences and are also constantly evolving. And now, like, my parents have my back in a way that I never expected when I was, you know, 18. When it comes to doing art for a living, my father in particular, he's always like, you just need that one big break. That's all, one big break. And I'm like, I thought I already had the break. But all right. He’s very ardent like, you know, his kid is doing something special. And you should watch and you should be proud of it. And, you know, my mom is as well. She's much more critical. If something doesn't work, she will tell me and a lot of times she's right. To be perfectly honest, she's, she's very funny. And she's generally right.
So does your sense of humor come from them?
It comes from her. My dad is unintentionally funny. It's not with self-awareness. My mom is witty, she's quick. She's funny with language, her timing is spectacular. Along with my brother. Like, when I'm on stage, I often kind of imagine what it would be like if I was on stage with my brother, how I would deliver things or how he would deliver things if he was in the situation like, you know, I mean, you grow up with somebody, you watch TV with somebody, you make jokes together for your whole life, it becomes very easy to kind of project a bit of our dynamic, even if it's just a solo show.
And we should say your brother is also an artist more on the music side of things.
Yeah, he was in a rap group called Das Racist that was popular — they were moderately notable in coastal cities about a decade ago, and he had a show called ‘Chillin Island’ on HBO last year. So yeah, my parents have two black sheep. They have only two kids, and they're both black sheep. We've really forced our parents to extend the boundaries of career and what is and is not acceptable. And they've honestly really gone along for the ride. And, you know, I joke about the pain I've caused my parents, but at this point, to be perfectly honest, like it took a long time, but they're completely on board. And it's not easy, because it often requires explanation. Like, when other parents are like, what went wrong, it's like, nothing went wrong. ‘They're doing great.’ And that takes a lot, that's beautiful, and not something I expected.
How is it going now, a few years on, after you've gotten through kind of that early, newborn phase of being a dad, how are you liking things?
I mean, it's great, but it does make it more painful to tour and be away from him. It's funny, like when you're obsessed with your career, particularly when your career is you, you are your own business, you make all your own work, everything is centered around you. I think all people have a bit of that till they potentially partner up and especially when they have a kid, but I guess my profession is very ego based and all of a sudden to have a child recenter your life is pretty incredible. Like, nothing is worth more than my kid and it does change. It cuts the amount of time I have to work, certainly, but it also gives me a degree of focus and like this is like more than just like art now. This is also how you feed your family. And that's a new thing. That's not something I've ever really thought about before. It was never that; it was art. It also has changed how I view art, which is a lot of the new hour that I'm going to be doing in the Pioneer Valley in Chicopee. A lot of it is about the choices you have to make when capitalism is involved, both in terms of like, as an American how like this country works, how much is privatized, as well as, as an individual, what I am now willing to do for money that I didn't do before, because now there's a stake. You know, it's a work in progress. It's not the finished thing, what I'm trying to get this special to do is really talk about that kind of corrupting power of money.
So specifically, what are you doing differently for money now that you might not have before you were a parent?
I never thought I'd be a host of a food competition show on Netflix. ‘Snack. Vs. Chef,’ like, I certainly didn't ever imagine myself in that position. And I think there would have been a time even though it was an incredible opportunity, where I might have said no, just because it didn't fit into how I viewed myself. And as you get like, older, it's just like, hey, you know, I've also developed a wide range of skills that I happen to apply with the kind of material I do, which is politicized and a lot about race and gender and sexuality. And, you know, all the isms, right? But that doesn't mean I also don't know how to read a teleprompter, like, I know how to read a teleprompter, I know how to write for television, I know how to be quick off the cuff. I know how to keep it light. It's not like in my regular life I'm constantly trying to make large statements. You know, I'm also silly and goofy. And that's a part of my personality that I get to wear on the show, which is super exciting. But things like that, I never would have thought I would accept that. And honestly, like, I'm glad that I'm at a place where I'm more willing to try.
Plus, to be perfectly honest, this whole idea of selling out, or, you know, the idea of doing something for money to support yourself being somehow like, an ethical violation for artists, I don't think that really matters anymore. Because there's a whole generation of people like millennials and under who've grown up with the internet, they've grown up with art having to be monetized through the internet. Like, their whole goal, you're ‘influencer’ or whatever, like, you're basically trying to get ads. Everyone is their own broadcaster. And so the idea of selling out, it's weird, like, when I talk about that concept, if you're over a certain age, you understand the idea. But when you're under that age, it's like, of course, I'm going to sell my song for a commercial. How else am I going to make this work? And so it's also kind of forced me to rethink like, what is selling out like when you're in this system, and this is the only way to get it done? What is selling out?
I guess there are some comedians who line up on both sides of it, like Sarah Silverman is not having children and that's a part of her comedy. Tom Papa is a family guy, that's a part of his comedy. How did you decide as a human that you wanted children? And how did you think about how it would fit into your professional side?
I mean, I didn't, to be honest, I wanted children, but I didn't think about what is this going to do for comedy? It's a completely different part of my body, you know, my mind, like the desire to be a father. But you know, once you know, we decided we're having a kid I was hit with the reality of like, I'm going to have to talk about this, this is going to be the center of my life. How do I do this in a way that hasn't been done before? Because you know, when you're new at something, everything seems like material because like it's fresh to you. And then you realize, oh, every parent who has a comic has discussed XYZ. And so it takes work to figure out what is unique about my experience. Well, he was born during a global pandemic, that's unique. You know, he was born after we fled New York and went to San Diego where you know, the word COVID was a little less of an issue. And there was more space and then we moved back to New York, that back and forth is unique. You know, the fact that I'm a comedian that has had a kid, there's some uniqueness in that. My point of view is generally still my point of view. It hasn't changed dramatically. If anything, I'm more positive just because I have a kid now. And as much as I think about global warming, like, I can't think about it with nihilism in the same way, because I have this kid. The stakes are different. So yeah, certainly, it's changed my material in terms of like, there's always something bigger than me. And my drive is bigger. And the audience, I think, realizes that. But I don't want to fall into convention. And that's always the risk when you have a very common life-changing experience that most people have, you're relatable. But then the worry is, are you no longer interesting, and hopefully, I've proven that not to be the case.
You obviously have talked a lot about politics. on stage through the years. I'm wondering about how you look at talking about where we are now, given that so many comedians have made the point that Donald Trump is kind of a post-comedy figure, you know, beyond humor at this point. How are you thinking about how you'll talk about this next election?
Oh, god, I don't even know. Because first of all, is it just Biden on the Democratic side? I'm assuming Trump's going to run. We already know that DeSantis is in it. Until it shakes out, it's hard to kind of know what direction to take like. And also the math with comedy historically has been tragedy plus time. And for me, I've always struggled like when this happens, it just feels like impending doom. Like the idea of like, oh my god, Trump again. I don't know if I can handle this. I feel like it's still tragedy. I mean, I suppose that's unfair, because democracy is pretty tragic in general at this point. So maybe that's not fair for me to say that maybe that formula doesn't quite work when you're when you're in the middle of it. But I really don't know. I really don't know how it's gonna shake out. I'm scared because Joe Biden is….he's Joe Biden. I don't think I need to expand on that. I'm worried about Joe Biden because he's Joe Biden. And on the right, , I just feel like the cast of characters to me, don't necessarily…when I think about DeSantis banning books, this is this is a different generation, this is McCarthyism. This is the worst of us. And that scares me as somebody who believes in free speech and the idea of studying and trying to have thoughtful, intellectual conversations. Anti-intellectualism seems to be rising. And that scares me, obviously.
You and I are in the same generation, and I wonder if you have the experience of being unsettled by people, basically, your age being on that debate stage?
I mean, I'm unsettled by the fact that athletes that are considered old are younger than I am. I'm frustrated by the fact that professors can relate to me more than students. When I do colleges, sometimes that there's all these references I have to change because only they will relate to it. I'm unsettled. The fact AOC is younger than I am, like, there's people who are achieving these incredible things who are younger. It's shocking to me. Like it just it hits you. Unless I did something extraordinary right now, I can't be young for whatever it is. I'm like, this is when you're supposed to accomplish these things. Honestly, what's more unsettling is that I tore calf muscles playing pickleball against 80-year-olds. That to me is more unsettling. Like I'm starting to get ailments and have injuries that elderly people will have. That's more unsettling.
Did you and AOC ever work it out?
You know what, she was so kind. You know, she messaged me before she was AOC, basically, but when she was running for office the first time, hoping we could collaborate. I ignored the message because I'm a busy comedian. And then she become perhaps the most important and influential generational voice of this era, you know, at least since Obama. Somebody who at least on the left is like a paradigm shifter. And all of a sudden, I try to come crawling back like hey, you still need help now that you've made it? I put that clip up of me talking about it and she saw it and we had a good laugh about it. We messaged each other back and forth. And it was actually very funny. And she again was extremely kind about the whole thing. But yeah, not my finest moment. Again, a shockingly big ego for someone who's moderately notable.
