Larry the Cable Guy returns to Nebraska
The phone rings, and it’s Larry the Cable Guy on the other end. He’s a little flummoxed. “I was eating fondue in bed last night,” he says in that Southern drawl of his that has become so well known. “I woke up this morning with third-degree cheese burns.” He then adds, almost as an afterthought, “I still can’t find the fork.” Insert groan here.
Larry was calling from his Florida home to promote his “Right to Bare Arms Tour,” which begins tonight in his home state at the Pershing Center.
In case you didn’t already know it, Larry was born in Nebraska and lived his first 16 years on an 80-acre farm outside of Pawnee City, where his family raised pinto horses, 40 head of cattle and pigs.
“I raised (pigs) for eight years from the time I was like 7,” said Larry, who once was a blue-coated member of Future Farmers of America.
He still calls the state “home” and spends his summers in a home near Lincoln in 100-degree temperatures to get away from the 100 degrees and 100 percent humidity of Florida.
In Nebraska, his friends call him by his real name — he asked not to use it for safety reasons — while the rest of the country knows him as Larry, a persona he created to garner laughs.
That, he humbly admits, was one of his better moves.
Today, Larry the Cable Guy, 42, has become a phenomenon of sorts. He’s one of the Blue Collar comics who have become a hit on stage, radio and television.
His newest CD, “Right to Bare Arms,” is the only comedy album ever to debut at No. 1 on the country charts, where it stayed for four weeks after its release in March. And on Oct. 25 he becomes a published author. That’s when his book, “Git-R-Done,” becomes available.
“I’m having the time of my life,” he said. “It’s really amazing. It’s all because of my fans. I can’t say enough about them. They mean that much to me.”
He’s not blowing smoke up a pickup’s tailpipe. He really means it when he attributes his success to his fans.
In 1998, for instance, when his career as a standup was just taking off, he signed autographs, posed for pictures and shook a lot of hands after entertaining a packed house at the Royal Grove.
He said he has several fond memories of that gig, including one of the sign outside that read: “Larry the Cable Guy 8, Strippers 10.”
“I’m sure I was a downgrade for the truckers,” he joked.
As he talks, Larry slips in and out of his Southern accent, which has become his bread and butter.
“I’ve always been able to do it,” he said of the accent. “As a kid, it was like second nature for me, and I started to mess around with it. The things I said normally sounded a lot funnier with an accent.”
At first, he did the voice for fun and not business.
He and fellow Blue Collar comic Jeff Foxworthy would tell stories in Southern accents at Atlanta Braves’ spring training games. Both are big baseball fans.
“We were trying to crack each other up,”Larry said.
Then one night in 1991, while headlining a West Palm Beach club, the Larry persona emerged on stage. The comic was struggling, and the character got a laugh. He started to incorporate him more and more into his act.
A radio friend in Tampa, Fla., heard him and asked Larry to call his show and use the voice. Larry pretended he was going to install cable TV. It took off from there.
Tonight’s show will be Larry’s first in Lincoln since 2002, when he teamed with fellow Blue Collar comics Foxworthy, Bill Engvall and Ron White at Pershing.
“I might not have on Husker red,” he said, noting he’ll be on stage the night before Nebraska’s football team hosts Texas Tech. “I might have red flannel on.”
He definitely will have his custom-made Takamine guitar, with the Husker logo and a mural with Tom Osborne, the offensive line and five National Championship trophies.
“It’s like Dick Cavett says in all those commercials, ‘There is no place like Nebraska,’” he said.
Then he got down to business again, launching into a routine of jokes about Ashton Kutcher, Marlon Brando and Martha Stewart.
“Did you hear Martha won a Emmy while she was in prison?” he asks. “I have a buddy in prison, and he won a Tony. And a Steve.”
Insert groan here.
Reach Jeff Korbelik at 473-7213 or jkorbelik@journalstar.com.
Larry was calling from his Florida home to promote his “Right to Bare Arms Tour,” which begins tonight in his home state at the Pershing Center.
In case you didn’t already know it, Larry was born in Nebraska and lived his first 16 years on an 80-acre farm outside of Pawnee City, where his family raised pinto horses, 40 head of cattle and pigs.
“I raised (pigs) for eight years from the time I was like 7,” said Larry, who once was a blue-coated member of Future Farmers of America.
He still calls the state “home” and spends his summers in a home near Lincoln in 100-degree temperatures to get away from the 100 degrees and 100 percent humidity of Florida.
In Nebraska, his friends call him by his real name — he asked not to use it for safety reasons — while the rest of the country knows him as Larry, a persona he created to garner laughs.
That, he humbly admits, was one of his better moves.
Today, Larry the Cable Guy, 42, has become a phenomenon of sorts. He’s one of the Blue Collar comics who have become a hit on stage, radio and television.
His newest CD, “Right to Bare Arms,” is the only comedy album ever to debut at No. 1 on the country charts, where it stayed for four weeks after its release in March. And on Oct. 25 he becomes a published author. That’s when his book, “Git-R-Done,” becomes available.
“I’m having the time of my life,” he said. “It’s really amazing. It’s all because of my fans. I can’t say enough about them. They mean that much to me.”
He’s not blowing smoke up a pickup’s tailpipe. He really means it when he attributes his success to his fans.
In 1998, for instance, when his career as a standup was just taking off, he signed autographs, posed for pictures and shook a lot of hands after entertaining a packed house at the Royal Grove.
He said he has several fond memories of that gig, including one of the sign outside that read: “Larry the Cable Guy 8, Strippers 10.”
“I’m sure I was a downgrade for the truckers,” he joked.
As he talks, Larry slips in and out of his Southern accent, which has become his bread and butter.
“I’ve always been able to do it,” he said of the accent. “As a kid, it was like second nature for me, and I started to mess around with it. The things I said normally sounded a lot funnier with an accent.”
At first, he did the voice for fun and not business.
He and fellow Blue Collar comic Jeff Foxworthy would tell stories in Southern accents at Atlanta Braves’ spring training games. Both are big baseball fans.
“We were trying to crack each other up,”Larry said.
Then one night in 1991, while headlining a West Palm Beach club, the Larry persona emerged on stage. The comic was struggling, and the character got a laugh. He started to incorporate him more and more into his act.
A radio friend in Tampa, Fla., heard him and asked Larry to call his show and use the voice. Larry pretended he was going to install cable TV. It took off from there.
Tonight’s show will be Larry’s first in Lincoln since 2002, when he teamed with fellow Blue Collar comics Foxworthy, Bill Engvall and Ron White at Pershing.
“I might not have on Husker red,” he said, noting he’ll be on stage the night before Nebraska’s football team hosts Texas Tech. “I might have red flannel on.”
He definitely will have his custom-made Takamine guitar, with the Husker logo and a mural with Tom Osborne, the offensive line and five National Championship trophies.
“It’s like Dick Cavett says in all those commercials, ‘There is no place like Nebraska,’” he said.
Then he got down to business again, launching into a routine of jokes about Ashton Kutcher, Marlon Brando and Martha Stewart.
“Did you hear Martha won a Emmy while she was in prison?” he asks. “I have a buddy in prison, and he won a Tony. And a Steve.”
Insert groan here.
Reach Jeff Korbelik at 473-7213 or jkorbelik@journalstar.com.
Copyright © 2002-2008 Lincoln Journal Star. All rights reserved.