SMOKE: How many days out of the year do you tour?
JENI: All the time! And it gets a little unnerving after a while. You can tell you’ve been on the road too long when you’re sitting in a hotel room, watching TV, and you’re thinking, “You know, I never noticed it, but that Wilma Flintstone doesn’t have a bad body...”

SMOKE: Is TV acting more difficult than standup? Which is more satisfying?
JENI: I’ve done movies, I’ve done TV, and standup is by far the hardest thing to do - and ironically, the least respected out of the bunch. Movies are the most respected medium, TV’s a little further down the ladder, and standup is considered somewhere between porno and dwarf-tossing. It’s a little like jazz, in a sense... it has a large core following, but the average person doesn’t know much about the nuances.

SMOKE: You’ve said that when you perform on stage, you only know the beginning and end, and the middle is up for grabs. With this ad-lib style, do you get bored with the scripted structure of TV and movies?
JENI: No, not at all. Also, it’s hard to keep your profile high as a comedian without doing other things as well. Maybe, if you’re a really prolific comedy writer, you’ll get something like an HBO special, out there every four years or so. People have short memories; it’s hard to keep them coming out to see you without having a presence in other media. It’s not that I’m trying to be a TV or movie star, it’s that I’m getting exposure, and keeping my name out there. Standup comedy, to use a finance analogy, is really my core holding.

SMOKE: Your act covers a wide range of subjects. Does a comedian have to be a “pop culture sponge” all the time?
JENI: If you do the style I do, yes. If you’re doing Carrot Top, not necessarily. That’s what’s frustrating to comedians. Because there isn’t much mainstream media coverage of standup comedy, all comics tend to get lumped into the same category: “Is Carrot Top better than Jay Leno?” It’s not a fair comparison. To use a music analogy, no one would think of comparing a heavy metal band with a folk singer, or a reggae performer with an alternative rock act. But because comedy, by its nature, is frivolous, there are few people who devote any kind of serious criticism to it. After all, if you’re really good at comedy, it shouldn’t look like a lot of work went into it.

SMOKE: Who were your favorite comedians growing up?
JENI: There are a few people who are on what I call The Mount Rushmore of Standups: George Carlin; Richard Pryor - the majority of the black comedians today are doing some version of what he invented, and about half of the white guys are, too; Robert Klein; Bill Cosby; Lenny Bruce. Most of present-day standup comedy is influenced by that small group of people.

SMOKE: You’ve said that your father and his comedy albums were a big influence. Would you encourage your son to go into this line of work?
JENI: Sure, if it’s what he really wanted to do. I wouldn’t relish the idea... because the truth is, no one is good at this in the beginning. The first year as a standup is a brutal experience for most people. You don’t know what you’re doing, you work crappy joints, you can’t get yourself out of trouble on-stage... the first year I did it, I was quitting every ten minutes. It’s very hard to watch someone you love going through that. I’d probably do what my dad did, which is never show up until the kid gets on “The Tonight Show.”

SMOKE: What’s the worst gig that you were ever booked for?
JENI: It was a biker bar, somewhere in the wilds of Canada. They’d never had live comedy before; someone talked them into it. I was booked to do two shows. So I did the first one, for a pretty rough-looking crowd, and did well. An hour or so later, I noticed that the same people were still there. I said to the owner, “Why didn’t you bring in the next audience?” He said, “They are the next audience. These are my regular customers; I can’t throw them out!” I told him I did all my material in the first show, but he said, “Well, if you don’t go back on, I’m not gonna pay you.” So I went back out and somehow came up with a new hour of material. Needless to say, it was not good.

SMOKE: As a former political science major, do you have any insights on the presidential election?
JENI: Actually, I’m going to miss Bill Clinton, because, God bless him, I can’t get my girlfriend to smoke a cigar. I actually think that Dr. Kevorkian should be our next president.

SMOKE: Why is that?
JENI: Because it’s time for somebody that we know won’t lie. Clinton committed adultery and wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Jack Kevorkian committed first degree murder and broadcast it on Sunday night TV! He went on “Sixty Minutes,” waved at the camera, and said, “Hi, I’m Jack Kevorkian, thanks for tuning in... I’m killing this guy now. Yeah, I know I might go to jail... that’s K-E-V-O-R-K-I-A-N. We’ll be back in a minute; he won’t.”

SMOKE: What’s the first major difference you noticed between California, where you live now, and Bensonhurst, where you grew up?
JENI: Well, they have an interesting policy here: you can’t smoke in a bar. It’s like, “Put that out! Where the hell do you think you are?!” “Oh, I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten. Can I have a big tumbler of 151 Rum?” “Coming right up! As long as it’s not something dangerous, like smoking.” Then there’s the driving. I spent most of my life thinking that going an hour away was a big trip. Out here, it takes an hour to get out of the driveway.

SMOKE: Speaking of smoking, do you remember your first cigar?
JENI: My early experiences were that I was trying cigars when I was trying to quit cigarettes, and I found myself inhaling them. I thought, “Whoa, this can’t be right.” I’ve learned the error of my ways since then.