Mike Birbiglia's Working It Out - 135. Janine Harouni: But She's Funny

Episode Date: June 17, 2024

Comedian Janine Harouni and Mike have a lot in common. They both survived severe car accidents, they have similar relationships with their parents, and they both value the quality of being vulnerable on stage. Mike and Janine discuss the process of turning a traumatic experience into a comedic story, and how Janine’s recovery from her car accident helped her better connect with her parents and inspired her to start doing comedy. Plus, jokes and stories about what it’s like being married to another comedian, Janine’s experience working at a mob-run restaurant, and why her dad wears serial killer gloves.Please consider donating to the Tunnel to Towers Foundation.

When my parents were in the hospital when I first got hit by the car, they were sitting in the waiting room and there was this really lovely man who just kept talking to them the whole time. And they were like, my mom was like, he was so nice. He made us feel so good. And then at the end of it, when they were about to leave, the doctors called us in after like, you know, whatever, a seven-hour surgery or something.

He was like, anyway, the reason I'm talking to you is if your daughter doesn't make it, I sell t-shirts for memories. You know, I can put a photograph, the dates. I make bumper stickers for the car. And my parents were like, what is your life? You're just here waiting for someone's loved one to die so that you can sell them T-shirts. That is the voice of the great Janine Haruni.

Janine is a comedian with a fascinating backstory. She's from Staten Island. She moved to London, started doing stand-up. She's one of a few guests on the show who worked with a great, great theater director named Adam Brace, who sadly passed away. He worked with Alex Edelman. He worked with Liz Kingsman.

He worked with Phoebe Waller-Bridge. So Janine and I talk about Adam Brace. We talk about grief. We talk about comedy. She does a lot of shows in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. We talk a little bit about those types of kind of long-form storytelling shows. If you're able to see her live, she is a fantastic comedian. By the way, thanks, everyone,

who came out to my Beacon Theater show in New York City. It was so special. Thanks to Atsuko Akatsuka and Gary Simons for appearing on that show. I posted some photos on my Instagram if you want to check out those. Next week, I go to Atlanta. We just added a second show at the Tabernacle, which is great. Then Charlotte, Richmond, and we added a fourth and final show in Washington, D.C. We just added a third show in Portland, Oregon. That'll be the third and final show in Portland,

Oregon. I'm returning to Portland, Oregon because we had so many people say, we missed the show. I did two last year. It will be the same show. It's in process. So it'll have some changes in case you're wondering. If you already saw that last show, it's not an entirely different show from the show you saw in Portland in the fall. All of that is on Burbiggs.com, along with Niagara Falls, Sag Harbor, Red Bank, New Jersey, Seattle, San Francisco, Oakland, Philadelphia, Minneapolis, San Francisco, Oakland, Philadelphia, Minneapolis, Madison, Milwaukee, Champaign, Indianapolis, Ann Arbor, Detroit, Dayton, Pittsburgh, Louisville, Nashville, Knoxville, Asheville, and Charleston. All of it on Burbiggs.com. Today on the podcast, we have Janine Haruni, hilarious comic and storyteller.

I didn't know Janine very well, but it turns out we have a lot in common. We were both in awful car accidents. She talks about a lot today, stories that we both have told on stage. We go into the process of turning something like that into comedy. We talk about issues with our dads. We talk about the importance of being vulnerable on stage. We talk about her solo show, Manouche, which was nominated for Best Show at Edinburgh last year. She will be performing it at the Theatre Royal Stratford East in London on July 6th. Enjoy my chat with the great Janine Harouni. Can you kind of pitch to me what your show is that you're touring America with right now?

So it's the show that I did at the Fringe last summer while I was pregnant. It got nominated for Best Show. Is that what that award is at the Fringe? I think so. That's what I read. The main award? I don't know. And it's about, I don't know.

I find it weird. Don't you find it weird? That's a humble brag. That was a brag, Brad. I'm like, buy tickets to the show. I won the presidency of the United States. I nearly won. Yeah, yeah, exactly.

Yeah, yeah. The Mark Twain something. I don't know. No. Don't you find it weird? Like, how would you have described Old Man in the Pool? No, that's a tricky one no the way I describe old man in the pool is it's a show about life death and mortality in my journey of realizing that uh things that uh I took for granted when I hit middle age all of a sudden

you realize you can't take for granted. Yeah. But it's funny. Good point. That's the thing that I found really hard. Because I'm like, it's about pregnancy, parenting, friendship, grief, pregnancy loss. But it's funny. I know. This is a worthwhile digression, I think, because it is a lot of creatives listen to the show. And it is a whole thing where you have to think about not only what it is you're making, but then you have to think about what's the three sentence version that makes people

interested in what it is. Yeah, yeah, exactly. And also doesn't turn them off because when you have an hour to go through all of those topics and tie them all together, people are with you. They're invested. They're on the journey with you. But when you have three sentences, I just want to say it's a funny show about parenting and pregnancy. How do you pronounce the name of the show? Manoush. Manoush. I actually think I'm pronouncing it wrong.

It's an Arabic word. It's a food, yeah? It's a food, yeah. It's like a pizza. It's like an Arabic pizza. It's like a flatbread. Amen. Keep talking.

Yes, yeah. Going to the description. But it's also my family's nickname for me. Oh. Yeah, so. I love that. Keep talking. Going to the description. But it's also my family's nickname for me. Oh, I love that. That's a good nickname. That's one of our slow round questions. What's your nickname? Oh, is it? Yeah.

So, Noosh. They all call me Noosh, basically, which is short for Manouche. Because you look like a pizza. I've also recently learned that Manouche is slang for vagina in Arabic. Well, there it is. In Lebanese. And that's what the show's about. So, that's what the show's about. Yeah. So, if you want to pitch the show. Yeah, yeah, yeah. There it is. In Lebanese. And that's what the show's about. So that's what the show's about. Yeah, so if you want to pitch the show,

it's a Mount Manoush, which is a pizza, but also a vagina. A vagina, yeah. And you're looking at one. Yeah, yeah. See you guys there. But it's funny.

Yeah, yeah, exactly. But it's funny. Wait, no, no. So do you reveal why the title is the title in advance of it, or do you let the audience? It's a reveal at the end of the show. advance of it? Or do you let the audience? It's a reveal at the end of the show.

So I've ruined the show. But do come along. Say no more. No, and a title is, of course, significant. Because my director, Seth, and I talk about this constantly. You want the title of the show to sort of simmer with the audience after they've seen the show. Yes, I think so. And you want them to look back years from when they've seen it and go, oh, yeah, Manoush.

So my first show was called Stand Up With Janine Hironi, brackets, Please Remain Seated. Yes. And that was just because I thought that was funny. But I don't know if you ever find this, that when you start writing the show, you start tying things together. And then you're like, oh, actually, it's a show. That show was about being hit by a car and becoming paralyzed for a couple of years of my life. One of my legs was paralyzed. That was the one I got really emotional about this morning. Really? Why? What's sad about that? No, I was mad because there wasn't any pizza in it.

I know. I know. Yeah. I tried to. I lost it in the previews. I get really emotional when there's no food in the special. No, no I know. Yeah. I tried to. I lost it in the previews. I get really emotional when there's no food in the special. No, no, no. For obvious reasons, I was very emotional. You being hit by a car and going into very, very intense detail about it. Right. Yeah. But it's funny. But in a funny way. But it's funny. But also, no, it's very funny right as a matter of fact one of my favorite lines in the special is a hard laugh line which is you go into detail about how you were hit by a car and all of your injuries and you go i'm only saying this because i want to get a good review in the guardian and it's a little bit of an inside joke in the sense that in Europe, like, these fringe shows, like, it is so significant what your reviews look like.

Yeah, yeah. And, of course, if you have some kind of affliction, you get hit by a car, something extreme, sleepwalk through a second-story window, et cetera. It's just like the classic Edinburgh show, which is where it's about some moment of pain or pathos in your life. It's not just a club comedy hour. And those shows tend to do better. Although I say that there are lots of shows that are like, I had a little bit of eczema on my leg for a year, so that was painful for me. And then they try to make an Edinburgh hour out of that. Right.

I love that show. Yeah, exactly. EczemaNation. Eczema stage right. I make an Edinburgh hour out of that. And I would say. I love that show. Yeah, exactly. Eximination. Exima stage right. Exima stage right was excellent. But my first hour is about, the crux of the show is about my relationship with my dad.

And my dad, I love him very much, but he's a Trump supporting son of Arab immigrants. Try figuring that one out. Parse as you will. Yeah, huge fan, big Trump fan. And we've always butted heads on politics. And so the show is about our relationship and how this car accident that I was in, which forced me to move back home with my parents to recover for almost three years, healed our relationship. Yeah. home with my parents to recover for almost three years, healed our relationship. Because I think,

I wrote it when Trump was in office. And that was the thing I was grappling with at the time, was how could I hate this thing so much that's happening in the country that I love, while the closest member of my family is so into it. Like flags, bumper stickers, the whole shebang. So it's how do you love someone on the other end of the political spectrum? I don't. Do you have the answer for that one? No. Because I struggle with it also.

Do you have people in your family who are? My folks are in their 80s and different generations certainly. And yeah, with my dad, it's challenging. It's really hard. But at the same time, I think we demonize people on both sides. I think both sides do that. And I think the show tries to grapple with that and bring out the humanity because my dad, at his core, is a wonderful, loving, generous, kind person. Yeah. And it just sort of grapples with that. There's this quote that I always go back to.

It's Arthur Miller. I'm going to absolutely butcher it, but it's the job of the play is not to provide answers but to provide the most accurate depiction of the problem. Yeah. And so I think getting on stage and saying, I have all the answers, is very boring, because no one has all the answers, and it's always more complex than you think it is. But also, I think nobody thinks they're the evil one. Do you know what I mean? Oh, I know.

Nobody's walking around like, I'm on the bad team. They all think that they're answering the question the right way. Have you ever read that short story, Red Badge of Courage? Oh, my God, when I was a kid, yeah. Yeah, yeah. I think I read it in maybe senior year of high school or something. Yeah. But I always think of that because it's a soldier who is,

he walks up to a river bank, and in the river, he's covered by trees, but in the river he sees a soldier from the other side who's just bathing, just like enjoying the weather and having a nice time. And his gun is on the other side of the river. He couldn't possibly get to it. And this soldier has his gun with him and he can kill this unarmed guy. But he chooses not to because he sees the humanity in him. And then it ends with the soldier who was in the river days later or whatever it was is the guy who ends up killing him. And that's comedy.

But it's funny. But it's funny. You have this joke in one of your specials about performing for one person. Oh, yeah. Was that a friend? That was actually my husband. Oh, it was your husband? I completely stole it from him.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. My husband did a one-man show once to one man. And I stole that. Oh, my gosh. Passed it off as my own. Not without a big fight, I would say. So, in other words, he told you the story. Yeah, yeah, yeah. And you were like, and I'll take that.

He was telling it. He had told it to friends. And then one day I did a show to one person. I did a preview to one person. I did a preview to one person. And I was like, this is so weird. I have to call it out. So I just said that story. This is so embarrassing.

This feels like I've admitted something terrible. But he did eventually say. Well, no, this is going to be in the Scotsman. Yeah, please do. We're going to run this in the Guardian. Put that in the Guardian. They'll take my four stars away. Yeah, yeah.

They take one star off. Yeah, so it was my husband's story. Wait, did your husband come in? Yeah, yeah, he opens for me. Yeah, so we're on tour right now, and he's my opening act. Wait a minute. Hold on, what's your husband's name? Andrew Nolan.

Andrew Nolan. He's a very funny Irish comic. Oh, that's great. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh, wow, so he had that joke. It wasn't, he never did it on stage. He just told it socially. And it was before he really started doing comedy. So he wasn't a comedian at the time, I would say. He did a few open mics and wasn't sure if he wanted to do it. And I told that story on stage once and I sent the recording of it to Adam Brace and he was like, you should open the show with that. I said, but it's Andrew's. I said, it's Andrew's jokeace and he was like, you should open the show with that. I said, but it's Andrew's.

I said, it's Andrew's joke. And he was like, I'll talk to him. And Adam was like, I think it's funnier to come from a woman that there's just a man sitting in the audience as you perform an hour-long show to one person. So when you lie to audiences with all of your show... Yeah, there's going to be a New Yorker article about this.

Yeah, who was hit by the car, Janine? Well, the car is a metaphor for – The emotional truth of the car hitting me. I built a show around being hit by a car too. It was called My Girlfriend's Boyfriend. Yeah, yeah. And it wasn't as bad as yours in the sense that in the real life car crash because it just basically near missed me. Right, yeah, yeah.

I mean, it was a T-bone driver's side, but it hit. I still have the photos of it. It hit the back seat, and so I just flew it around. But it was, to this day, I have PTSD when I'm driving where I imagine it occurring. Do you have that? All the time. They're just these little intrusive fantasies that I have about. The first year that I would be in a car after the car accident,

I didn't feel like there was any car around me. It just felt like I was strapped to a seat that was going 70 miles an hour down the highway with no protection around me at all. Oh, my gosh. It's lessened recently. I haven't driven in like a year. And then I had to drive my husband and my baby to the airport yesterday.

And I, good Lord. And because I live in the UK, I was like, am I on the right side of the road? And my husband was like, no. I was turning onto the wrong side of the road. My license should be taken away. But then once I dropped them off, I had to drive

myself back. And the whole time I was like, keep it together, woman. Keep it together. So how many years ago were you hit by the car? 2009. Wow. That was so long ago. It's been a while and you haven't really driven a lot since. I've driven loads in the States, but then I moved to the UK and I don't have a license there. So I haven't driven in so long. Tell me if yours is anything like this. When I have PTSD, it's, gosh, it's almost, it's really hard to even say because it's very emotional. But it's the PTSD of you're going somewhere and then that.

Yeah. You know the feeling when— It's so abrupt. It's more abrupt than anything I've ever experienced in my life. Yeah, yeah. In a way that I—to people who haven't been hit by a car, I can't even describe. Yeah, yeah. That's exactly what it is. people who haven't been hit by a car, I can't even describe. Yeah, yeah. That's exactly what it is.

You're completely right. We had a flat tire. We pulled to the shoulder and we were waiting for help. I rolled the window down and was waving for someone to come over and just maybe take a look at the tire. It was four girls in the car. Yeah. And I think my friend was on the phone with her boyfriend at the time. And she was in the middle of describing where we were.

And I said, don't worry about it. Like, someone will just pull over and help us. He doesn't need to come all the way out here. And as I was saying that, a woman had fallen asleep, and there was a slight curve in the road. And she just veered into where we were and rear-ended just the seat that I was sitting in. So a friend was sitting next to me in the backseat and nothing happened to her, but I got pinned inside the car. And because she spun out and knocked out a street lamp, it was so dark. So no one else who was in the car knew what had

happened, really. We weren't looking at the car. And our friend who was looking at her tire outside of the car was hit by the impact of her car being hit. So she was hit by her own car, flew down the highway. Everybody jumped out of the car to go, obviously, and see if she was okay. She was. She was fine. She was just in shock. And then I realized that I was stuck in the car, just completely. I couldn't move. And I thought, oh, my spine must be broken, and that's why I can't move my legs. I didn't realize that the car was crushing me because you can't look around, you know,

and I just thought, oh, I'd seen all those shows that were like, I shouldn't be alive, you know, those reality shows that are on like Discovery Channel at 2 a.m., and I thought, oh, I must be bleeding internally. This is what you always hear about that sounds like I got internal bleeding and I thought I'm going to die. Yeah. But it's funny.

But it's funny. How long were you sitting on that? Halfway through that story, you were like, I know exactly what it is. Yeah, really good. Very good. I like that. I know exactly what it is. Yeah, really good. Very good. I like that. I apologize for having it. Don't apologize.

It was very good. No, it takes away something. No, not at all. It takes away something. Not at all, no. But way to call me out on it and be correct. You really looked like you were listening. Very good.

You're really good. Very good acting. Oh, have I taken a lot of improv workshops um that's emotional for me to hear again even though i've heard you tell that story it's it's um and then when you when that happened to you you called your parents yeah that was really weird i the phone that my friend was using to call her boyfriend to tell him to come down to pick us up ricocheted off the windshield and landed in my lap. So I had a phone.

So in the show, I don't think I say that. Do I say that? No. Some things that happened in the show were almost too unbelievable, and they didn't work on stage because the actual story is slightly more unbelievable than what happened. I find that a lot with storytelling, where you have a detail that is so strange that people are thinking, surely this is fiction, of course. And therein lies, I think in comedy, the trial and error of doing stuff on stage. Because you go, okay, that's too on the nose.

They don't believe me. You kind of see it in their eyes sometimes. Yeah, yeah. Or people love to come up to you afterwards and just tell you. And that's the whole end of the show is that someone came up to me and didn't believe that the entire thing had happened. So I have like a slideshow of all the pictures of all the people I'm talking about. When you were workshopping the car accident story, first of all, at what point in the car accident situation in life do you go, it's going to be a bit? Literally never.

I really didn't want to do it. I had heard so many comics talk about like, well, if you tell something sad on stage, then it's not a comedy show. You know, that sort of, I don't know. Do you have that over here? I've never heard that. It's huge in the UK.

Really? Because there's a real divide between what a sort of Edinburgh hour is and what real comedy is. So there are these club comedians who get on podcasts and say stuff like, well, you're not a comedian if you tell something sad on stage, if a show has a moment of quiet or anything like that. That doesn't make any sense to me. As someone who's uncomfortable in most situations, I find it so much easier to make jokes than to stand somewhere and be vulnerable and know there's not a punchline coming for a minute or two. I find that way harder than writing a joke and saying it on stage and having everyone laugh. I'm confounded by that criticism. I've heard that

a little bit. I don't know if you saw Gerard Carmichael's special, but the recent one, Rothaniel. But I heard that criticism. Sometimes people go, oh, where are the jokes? I'm like, I don't know. I'm invested in him and his story. I'm totally enthralled the whole time. I'm kind of some combination of laughing, crying, feeling alive. And isn't that what the whole thing's for anyway? Have you ever heard the thing of, I spent like a little bit of time in Belize and studying Garifuna, Garinagu drumming. I don't know. Same. Go ahead.

Same. Yeah, very similar. And we did this like nature walk one time in the rainforest. And the guy who took us in showed us all these things in the rainforest that are poisonous. And he said, you know, if you touch this, you're going to have a rash. If you touch this, your eyes will fall out or whatever it was. And then next to all of those things are all of the antidotes. They all grow. So the poison and the tonic all grow in the same environment. And so I think when you're doing a comedy show, the tragedy helps the comedy and the comedy helps

the tragedy. I feel like they do go hand in hand because they're bred in the same. Like for me, when Adam died, it was the saddest time. And also I laughed so much with the people who knew him and loved him because you need to. So I really reject the idea that comedy exists in a vacuum where it's just joke after joke after joke. And I think that the comedy is enriched by the truthful telling of moments of pain in your own life. Yeah, I feel like I think I made this joke and I think Alex Edelman told me that at his memorial, a lot of people made this joke which is yeah Adam Brace's death is going to create so many solo shows I know I heard you say that in your podcast to Alex while I was talking about Adam's death in my solo show I was like good lord not to trivialize it I really really genuinely think that would make Adam very happy were he here. So you asked me about the car accident. When did it become a bit?

And it was Adam. Oh, okay. He's the one who encouraged me to always talk about the vulnerable things, the sad things, the things you're ashamed of on stage. And so I think you're right. I think he would be really happy that people were writing shows, as long as they're good. You know, if it was a bad show about his life and death,. I think he would be really happy that people were writing shows, as long as they're good. You know, if it was a bad show about his life and death,

I'm sure he would be pissed off. I guess the question would be there, when does a show for you tip from being a comedy about dramatic things that have occurred or based around dramatic things that have occurred, tip into, okay, this is just kind of taking advantage of the tragedy of the thing? I think if it's serving the story, right? If it's just like, if it's just out there on its own, if it's a moment that's out there on its own and not tied into anything towards the end of the show, if it doesn't serve a purpose. So, okay. So when I was doing this new hour, which has maybe like three main threads to it, it's pregnancy and parenting,

my grandmother's life. My grandmother was a classical Arabic singer who sang with Fay Roos, who's like one of the most famous singers in the Arab world. And her experience of parenting, you know, as the breadwinner of her family and a creative person. And then it also talks about my relationship writing the show with Adam, who is vehemently against children. Like not a fan, always insisted he didn't want to have kids of his own. So you basically have these three threads in your show, and they kind of interweave. Right.

They do now. But when I was doing previews of the show, they were not connected. The show was very unfocused. And John Britton, who was one of Adam's friends, probably the only other director I'd ever heard Adam speak highly of, I messaged him and he very generously said he would come on board to help with the show and really helped to make sure that, oh, actually, this is a show about parenting. My grandmother's parenting, my parenting, and Adam, who said he never wanted kids. But, you know, when we went to his house after his funeral,

the walls were lined with show posters, Alex Edelman's reviews, my reviews, ticket stubs to all the first versions of the show that ever went out. And I realized then that he was a parent to a lot of people. Oh. You know? Oh, that's so beautiful. Yeah, yeah. I didn't start comedy until I was 30 because I just didn't want to be bad. Can you talk about that a little bit? Because I feel like that is a thing that creatives struggle with a lot is this idea of, is it too late? Oh, right. First off, ouch. Ouch. Is 30 too late? No, no, no. I'm saying for real. Like I've talked to people who say, I'm 23.

Is it too late? I'm 25. Is it too late? I just threw up in my mouth. That's horrendous. No, no. I'm setting you up to dispel these apocryphal ideas. No, no.

I know. I know. Don't worry. Don't worry. But like, yeah. And then some people say, I'm 40. Is it too late? I'm 50.

I'm 60, whatever. What do you say to these people? I think there's a lot of 20-year-olds out there trying to do something creative with their lives. And I think there's maybe four 20-year-olds. I want to actually hear what their opinion is on things. So I think the older you get, the more experience you have as a human being, the more you have to say about being human. So I don't think it's too late until you're 40. Then you're too late.

No. Well, no, it's interesting because I tend to agree with what you're saying. There's a few exceptions. Every now and then, someone pokes, like I think you said that there's like four people. Yeah, yeah. Every now and then someone pokes through. Like Bo Burnham.

Yeah, Bo Burnham's like that. Bob Dylan was like that. There's a handful of people with stand-up comedy, I think there's an intersection, and maybe the music, songwriting too, but it's like an intersection of experience colliding with life experience and wisdom. Experience on stage with life experience.

Yeah, absolutely. And when those two things collide, those are the comics I want to watch. Yeah, that's the sweet spot, isn't it? Yeah, like if you watch like Tig Notaro or someone like that, you go like, oh, clearly this person's lived a lot of life. Yeah. And they put in probably 20,000, 30,000 hours on stage. Yeah, yeah. And you're just like, I just can't get enough of this.

Yeah, exactly. Even Tig's— They have something to say and they know how to say it. Yeah, even Tig's 10 minutes she's working on at Largo, I'd be like, yeah, I'd rather see that than like a 23-year-old who's maybe not great. What do you think about now everybody's always putting content out, so there's so much like half-baked stuff that's going online. People are putting clips out of sort of – there's a feeling now,

and maybe I'm wrong, but it felt like 20 years ago you would work and work and work until you had a really solid five minutes, and you'd go and do that on late night. And that would help sell tickets to your tours, right? Yeah. Now it feels like people aren't waiting for you to have a perfect set. They just want to know you as a person. So there's lots of like half-baked stuff that's going out online and people are getting really big followings from it. And then maybe they're putting out specials that aren't as honed as they could be because they're not exercising the muscle to hone stuff. Yeah. There's some people who are big internet celebrities and they go on tour and they don't

have the craft of it. And I think people go see them about once. Right. And then they're like, oh, I'm going to go see someone who like their craft is this. Right. I actually think the market oddly corrects itself on that front. And then also like I play devil's advocate to the people are putting out so many things thing, which is to say it's almost like the Instagram, TikTok, et cetera, are the new open mics or late night, depending on how many people see it.

But it's just kind of like adjusted for the inflation of the market. Oh, I see, that's right. And also, it's just like open mic because you do a joke, you put it out, and if it goes viral, you're like, oh, that joke works in the same way that you would feel if it crushed at an open mic. Exactly. Does anything crush in an open mic?

Your soul crushes, but that's another clue into the audience about how, how, yeah. Can I, can I say something? Yeah. Cause I didn't want to say it at the top. Cause it'd be weird, but I get asked a lot in interviews in the UK, like what made me want to be a comedian? And do you know what I always say? I didn't want to know. You. No.

Yeah. Come on. So almost 20 years ago, I got free tickets to Gotham Comedy Club. And I didn't like stand-up. But I used to go because the tickets were free. And I don't know. Were they free? You spent like $13 on a Coca-Cola.

And you came out as the headliner. It was comic after comic of the thing that I hate the most. Nobody's being themselves on stage. They're just the smartest guy in the room. They're making fun of everybody and everything around them, but nothing vulnerable being shown. And then you came out and did Headline, did 20 Minutes, and everything you talked about was so, it was vulnerable.

It was self-deprecating in like a really charming way. It was so relatable. I felt super awkward. You were talking about your life as an awkward 20-something-year-old. And I thought, oh, that's what comedy could be. Oh, my gosh. And then I thought, I think that maybe that's what I would want to do. We're going to cut this out.

Or make it a clip. Hey. Okay, this is a slow round. What are people's favorite and least favorite thing about you? I would say I'm very loyal. That's a very Staten Island trait. I'm very loyal. I'll always—

To the mob. To the mob. I did work for the mob. Did you really? Briefly, as a waitress. Did you know you were? Big time. Really?

But where I grew up, it wasn't weird. I knew a lot of people who was like, oh, his dad's in jail because he's in the mob or, you know, isn't that crazy? I didn't think it was crazy. We had that a little bit in Massachusetts growing up. Right, right, yeah. I went to a high school. Worcester Mafia was a thing. Boston Mafia, of course, was a thing. Woody Bulger. Worcester Mafia sounds very cute. No, Worcester Mafia was real. Right, okay. No, Worcester Mafia was real. It sounds like something you'd put on a—it sounds like a sandwich you'd order in a deli. Like, oh, the Worcester Mafia. No, Worcester's a very Italian town.

And there was—yeah, it was pretty real. Yeah, I think one of the girls in my high school, her uncle was in prison for killing her other uncle. Like, her—by marriage. Because of a mob thing. Oh, wow. That's a lot. So you worked at a restaurant where you knew it was mafia connected.

The guy who owned, I'm probably going to get killed after this, but the guy who owned it had taken the fall for these like four big mafia heads. Like he went to jail for embezzlement or whatever it was. Went to jail for 12 years. The IRS took all his money.

His wife left him. And when he came out, he had nothing. But while he was in prison, he fell in love with cooking because there's nothing to do. So he just learned how to cook. He was liking good fellas. And so when he got out, these four mafia heads who he had taken the fall for just gave him the deed to a restaurant that he just owned outright. So I worked at this restaurant. What a happy ending. While I was recovering from my car accident. So my leg was paralyzed. Oh, God.

My leg was paralyzed for almost three years, but I still was living my life. I just wore a leg brace that helped me get around. Yeah. And he told me one day I came in, I was in the middle of a lawsuit because you have to sue for the insurance money. I'm sure you experienced this with your car accident. And he was like, you know, yesterday I got a call from this guy asking me all these questions. He said, you got a waitress named Janine working there.

How many hours does she work? Does she lift heavy things? And I was like, oh, my God, I'm in the middle of a lawsuit. Like, what did you say? And he was like, I'm Italian. I don't talk to nobody. I was like, I love working for the mob. I don't talk to nobody.

Yeah. That's wild. It was great. Did you ever interact with crime at that job? No, but every single table that I served, they were always like, you're Italian, right, sweetheart? I'm like, yeah, yeah, I'm Italian. Right. Always just say you're Italian. I look Italian. I said, yeah, I'm Italian. It doesn't hurt to be a Birbiglia in Brooklyn. Oh my gosh. Yeah. So favorite thing about you is loyalty. Least favorite thing?

I am learning that I have very black and white thinking. So let's say I do a gig and it goes like fine. I'll feel like I've bombed because it's either I've succeeded and they're like, you know, standing ovation, carrying me out on chairs kind of feeling, or it just feels like I've done absolutely terribly. It's hard for me to say, oh, that was okay. You know, that bit went well and I'm going to, you know, move that around and maybe that'll work now. I find that really difficult. So it's sort of a glass half empty approach to a lot of things. Yeah. Is that hard for, in your relationship? You do a lot of things. Yeah.

Is that hard in your relationship? Yes. Next question. No. Yeah. No, my husband's constantly reminding me that there is value in failing and value in not absolutely smashing something. Because failure is just a chance to learn, isn't it? So you and your husband are both comedians. What is, you know, I had my wife Jenny on the show recently and we were talking about

the relationship between two artists in a family. What are the upsides? What are the downsides? Upside is he understands, we both understand the small successes and what it means to God. At the Edinburgh Fringe, you start so low down the rung, but if you get into the venue called The Pleasance, it's very hard to get into that venue.

But you're performing in an underground bunker that seats 48 people and is very clearly giving everyone around emphysema because the walls are sweating with like hundreds of year old mold that's been growing there. And to you, it's like winning a Pulitzer. Yeah. Yeah. I'm like, I'm on the Apollo, you know, this is like the best thing ever. And, you know, to someone who's not in comedy, they'd be like, you're performing to not even 50 people in a, in a bunker like, you're performing to not even 50 people in a bunker? What's going on?

Do you need money? Are you okay? Right. It's like two orthopedists in the family. They're like, it's a shoulder cuff. It's whatever. And they're like, yeah, I know. So that's good.

And then what are the downsides? Financial instability. Of course. Good Lord. Sometimes I'm like, one of us just needs to work in insurance. That would be just ideal. Can you remember a time in your life where you were an inauthentic version of yourself? My whole life until I was maybe like 32, I would say. Five minutes ago. Yeah. Have you ever heard this thing of, my therapist always talks about the difference between fitting in and belonging. I've never heard that. So I feel like for the first 30 years of my life, I was so, I was a funny person because I was just trying to fit in.

Yeah. And there's a big difference when you're trying to fit in, you're changing who you are to try and get people to like you. Yeah. But the idea of belonging is being who you are and then finding people who like that. So I think it took me until I was maybe 32 to realize like, oh, I can just be myself and say what my thoughts are and feelings are. And I think comedy helped me do that. That's beautiful. Yeah. When you were growing up, was there a group that wouldn't let you in? That's beautiful.

Yeah. When you were growing up, was there a group that wouldn't let you in? I never really felt like I was in any group. I always felt like an outsider. Yeah. And yeah, I felt like when I was a kid, I feel like this happens to a lot of girls. I was kind of like bossy and I was in charge and we're all playing my games. And then puberty happened and I became like very shy and aware.

I don't know if you noticed this with your daughter, but I became very aware of the people around me and what was I saying, what were people thinking of me. And I think because of that, I started to really retreat into myself and I didn't put myself out there in groups. So even people who when I was a kid I would say I was friends with, I think I didn't really feel like I was part of their thing. Yeah. Did you feel that way? It's funny. Your answers in the slow round really give, a lot of them give me pause because they sort of send me back to my own childhood. I relate to a lot of what you're saying.

Because I know, I probably know every joke you've ever written, but I would say I think we had a very similar upbringing because I'm also Catholic, also from like a suburb of a big city that can be quite tough. Loud family. Big loud family. Yeah, yeah. Italian sounding last name.

Yeah. Do you have any material? I do, but what if it's bad? We're going to talk about it. All right. Because I think all my stuff is half-baked too. I mean, that's the premise of working it out section. Here's a couple things in my notebook. Obviously, I'm biased, but I feel like,

sometimes I feel like I'm in the movie Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and my daughter's Charlie, and her friends are the other kids. They're like, I'm Mike TV. I'm O'Gorses Gloop. I'm Veruca Salt. I'm Viola Bargard. And my daughter is nice, and she deserves a chocolate factory. That's funny.

I think that's beautiful. I also think every parent thinks that. No parent thinks their kid is Augustus Gloop. Right. Exactly. And they are. There's a lot of Gloops out there. There's a lot of Gloops.

There's a lot of Violets. The reason I wrote that down is precisely the thing you're saying, which is like I think I have to, I want to figure out how to capture this feeling you have when you have a child, which is like, your kid is awesome. Other kids suck. Yeah, yeah. And like, to me, that's like an archetypal example of that. Of like, Charlie, I mean, Charlie is an angel. The other kids are garbage.

angel. The other kids are garbage. Also, do you not find it crazy that that whole premise of that movie and book is like killing kids? Like it's like kids are making mistakes. Oh, you mean like when they fall in the chocolate and stuff? Yeah, yeah. And then he's like, let's just carry on with the tour. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. That's true. I was terrified of being a bad kid because I watched that movie when I was little and I was like, oh no, I'm going to get, that's true. I was terrified of being a bad kid because I watched that movie when I was little, and I was like, oh, no, I'm going to turn into a giant blueberry if I don't listen to my parents. So that's one. And then this is something I wrote down the other day,

but I think it's a funny fact to you. I don't know what to do with it. A few years ago, Jen said to me, she goes, when we got married at City Hall, I didn't think we were going to stay married. And I was like, I think we have to have better communication because I was sort of thinking this was like a whole life thing. That is a very funny thing for your wife to say. It is, right?

Yes. Well, because, and I think if you unpack it, she's from divorced parents. I'm from married for like 50 plus years and like. Divorce was never on the cards in that. No. I mean, and the stuff that my dad would say was so the opposite of romantic. Yeah.

Like I had this flashback the other day that my dad used to, because my mom talks a lot. She's like me or I'm like her. Which my dad as a kid would say to my mom, you would talk to anybody. You would talk to a doorknob. And they're still married. Yeah. If that is not a happy ending, I don't know what is. Something in that universe could be the joke.

That's really funny. Why? You should ask. Did you ask her why she said that? No, why did she say, I didn't think we were... Oh, Jenny said that. Why did she go through with it? No, I think honestly, I think a lot of your relationship with marriage or whatever it is, is based on what you were raised on.

So it's like she was raised on her parents broken off when she was really little. That's just what marriage was. That's just what marriage, right. Something you do for a little bit of time, and then, you know, you move on. Right. And then for me, I grew up in a Catholic town in Massachusetts. Nobody got divorced. No one got divorced, yeah.

Like, I couldn't—like, when I think back to the interactions between parents that I saw as a kid— You're like, you should be divorced. Oh, you should all be divorced. What are you even doing? What are we doing? Yeah, yeah. And it's like, so anyway,

that's something that I feel like maybe in the next show I might break open. I think that's really good. There's something there, right? There's a huge thing there. Me and my husband,

it's the same thing. He came from a, his family had like a crazy divorce. They were one of the first families in Ireland to get divorced. It was illegal to divorce when they did it. So they were like in the paper.

It was illegal? It was illegal to get divorced in Ireland. In the 70s, 80s? In the 80s. Yeah. So he came from a place of like a crazy divorce. It was in the papers. Kids would say to him, my mom says I can't talk to you because you're a bastard. Oh, gosh. And I had my parents, there were times when I was like, you guys should definitely get divorced. Like this,

you're fighting a lot, you know? So are you putting this on stage? Because this is very funny. No, no. I like this. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But in my mind, you just stay married. No matter how much you fight, you just don't split up. But he lives in sort of a constant fear of like, oh, no, if we fight too much, we'll divorce. Yeah. So that's not a joke. But it's funny. Is it? I think it is funny.

Okay, do you want to hear some half-ass? I would do some of that. I would do some of the stuff that you're talking about. Well, the Ireland – here's what I like about the Ireland thing. The Ireland thing, it was illegal to be divorced, blah, blah, blah. I always like it when jokes are, you know, you have to find out exactly what the punchline is, but it's like, I always like it when the jokes are telling you about something you actually don't know about. Right.

I'm half Irish. I actually didn't know that. Yeah, yeah. I guess where I live, people probably do know that more because there's such a huge Irish population. They're just, you know, across the waterway from each other there. But anyway, I would consider throwing that up. Yeah. As something. Yeah, no. What else you got? What do you got? Okay. I have this feeling of having a son is like dating an asshole. If I were to describe our relationship to you, but change the words my baby to my

boyfriend, you would be like, you need to leave. Very funny. Like you're up every night with him because he's crying. He made you take months off work and he can't survive without your boobs. Like leave him. He is toxic. I like it. Is that funny? I think it's great. I think like where you might want to have it turn is into something really specific about your husband. Right. That definitely isn't your baby. Right, right. Or something about your baby that's very specific that isn't your husband.

Yeah, yeah. What else you got? Okay. So my dad has now reached this age where he just doesn't care what he looks like. I don't know if your parents have gone through this, but my dad, he has Raynaud's disease. So it means that his hands get really cold. So he started wearing latex medical gloves everywhere he goes because he says it warms his hands up. This is a true story.

He pairs that with a t-shirt. Wait, he wears latex gloves everywhere? Everywhere he goes. He wore them to my son's christening. Why? His hands get cold. He says he has Raynoid disease, but then, so for years I was like, oh God, he's been diagnosed with this thing, so he wears these gloves. And then my mom was like, yeah, you know, he never got diagnosed, but he Googled it.

He thinks it's Raynoid. So I'm like, what is going on? That's a riot. You should definitely do that on stage. on. That's a riot. You should definitely do that on stage. I once went to church, you know, because whenever I'm home, my parents are very Catholic and they like when I go to church. So I went to church once. Play the game, baby. Up the old Christmas money. So I went to church and my dad was there early praying in the pew before mass started. And I surprised him. So I tapped him on the shoulder and he was so moved that I had come to church that he started crying into his latex gloves. And I was like, you have

to stop crying. It looks like you're repenting for the murder you just committed. Oh, that's funny. I love that. That's great. It's funny when you talk about how your parents prayed for you when you had your accident and you were hit by a car and you were like, I'll take it, basically. I'll accept it. I relate to that so much. I've been doing this joke recently on stage about how, oh, my friends who pray, I have so much respect for them. My Muslim friends who pray five times a day, it's like, I can't get myself to drink water five times a day. You're talking to a fake person. That's a commitment. You're talking to a fake person. Like that's a commitment. You're worshiping a higher power.

And then I say to the audience, I go, no offense if anyone's religious, if I'm viewing your God as a fake person. But also, I go, come on. Like if you're praying five times a day, one of the times you're like, this is not real. You know what I mean? Like, can't we be a little bit honest about that you're – isn't that what faith is? Isn't faith going – It's not knowing for sure.

There's a mountain of evidence that God doesn't exist. Yeah, yeah. And yet, I'm going to talk to the thing that's there. So once a day. Do you feel like the older you get, the more you are inclined to believe in God? Well, do you believe in God? I mean, I'm definitely a revolt against what I was raised on, which is like God is watching you at all times.

When I was six years old, which I always assumed, like I guess it's just some guy following me around in a Chevy Malibu going like, what's Mike Verbiglia up to? Yeah, the thing that your parents told you to stay, like stranger danger is happening omnipresently. Right, and so I'm like, I definitely don't want to teach that, like to my daughter, I don't want to relay that.

And so in some ways I have a reaction to that. But then, you know, we took our daughter for her birthday to Museum of Natural History, and we're in the planetarium, and we're watching kind of the miracle that is that the sun is aligned with the earth in such a way that created vegetation and water and this and that. And you just go, well, it is something of a miracle. And so who am I to be like, you know, like I have this joke lately. I go like, I don't want to raise my daughter to be an atheist because like, what's that?

Like grandma's dead and there's no further information at this time. You know what I mean? Exactly. Like what is that? That's nothing. I know, I know. When Adam died, it's the most I've ever felt connected to my faith in any way, because I just thought like, he's got to be somewhere. He can't be nowhere, you know.

Completely. When my parents were in the hospital, when I was, when I first got hit by the car, they were sitting in the waiting room and there was this really lovely man who just kept talking to them the whole time. And they were like, my mom was like, he was so nice. He made us feel so good. And then at the end of it, when they were about to leave, the doctors called us in was like, he was so nice. He made us feel so good. And then at the end of it, when they were about to leave, the doctors called us in after like, you know, whatever, a seven-hour surgery or something. He was like, anyway, if your daughter, the reason I'm talking to you is if your daughter doesn't make it,

I have, I sell t-shirts for memories. You know, I can put a photograph, the dates. I make bumper stickers for the car. And my parents were like, what is your life? You're just here waiting for someone's loved one to die so that you can sell them t-shirts. Oh my gosh. So yeah, it takes all kinds of that's gold. I know I got to do that on stage. I guess. Did you not do that on stage yet? I didn't. All right. Well then we've found a lot of good stuff today.

The final thing is working it out for a cause. What's a nonprofit that you like to support? And then we will support them and link to them in the show notes. So I'm from Staten Island, and there's this foundation called—it's the Steven Siller Foundation. It's the Towers to Tunnel Run, where what they do is they build homes for heroes. So Steven Siller Foundation. It's the Towers to Tunnel run where what they do is they build homes for heroes. So Steven Siller was a firefighter. He was actually in the car accident that I was in, the girl who was sitting next to me, her name was Liz Siller. She's his niece. He was a firefighter who, I think he wasn't working that day, 9-11, drove to his firehouse, got all his gear, got to the tunnel.

He couldn't drive through the tunnel, so he ran the whole way to the Twin Towers to try and help. He didn't make it. Oh, my gosh. But because of that, they set up this foundation for him, and they build homes for people in need. That is really inspiring and beautiful. We will contribute to them. We will link to them in the show notes. Janine, it has been a complete honor and blast talking to you.

It's been amazing talking to you. Thanks for having me on. Awesome. Working it out, because it's not done. We're working it out, cause there's no hope. That's going to do it for another episode of Working It Out. You can follow Janine on Instagram at Janine Haruni or on TikTok at Janine Haruni Comedy.

Find her live dates at JanineHaruni.com. Check out Burbiggs.com, sign up for the mailing list to be the first to know about all of my upcoming shows. The full video of this episode is on my YouTube channel, at Mike Birbiglia. And subscribe. We are posting more and more and more videos. A popular one this week was the Pete Holmes episode from last week, where we, in his studio, burn each other over and over and over again,

but then also go super deep. One of my favorite episodes of all time, our producers of working it out or myself, along with Peter Salamone and Joseph Berbiglia, Mabel Lewis, associate producer, Gary Simon, sound mix by Shubh Sarah and supervising engineer,

Kate Belinsky, special thanks to Jack Hansenhoff and bleachers for their music. They're on tour. Now they've got a great new album. Special thanks to my wife, the poet, J Hope Stein. Her audio book for Little Astronaut is gorgeous

and was recorded right here in the Working It Out studios. Special thanks, as always, to my daughter, Una, who built the original radio fort made of pillows. And thanks most of all to you who are listening. If you enjoy it, rate it and review it on Apple Podcasts. It really helps. Just write in your favorite episodes because there are, you know, 140-something episodes.

People don't even know where to begin. If you've missed any, go back. They're all up. They're all free. No paywall. We've had Quinta Brunson, Gary Goleman, Seth Meyers, Nick Kroll, John Mulaney, so many good ones. Thanks most of all to you who are listening.

Tell your friends, tell your enemies. Let's say you're arguing about politics with somebody. It's so painful. Maybe it's your dad. It's not important who it is. Instead of getting all wound up in politics, you can say, hey, dad, or whoever you are. Let's put politics aside and talk about what's really important.

Podcasts. My favorite podcast is called Mike Birbiglia's Working It Out. It's a mostly apolitical podcast where a comedian talks to other creatives about creative process and jokes. I think you'd really enjoy it. I think that's going to solve our political divide. I think that's going to do it. We're working it out. We'll see you next time, everybody.