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One might have expected a cheerier reaction from White. But as it turned out, White was coming off a late night. And now, on his third trip through this alley in as many days, all in his trademark black suit under a merciless sun, he was trapped. At the front of the building, the crowd rolling into the Paramount appeared to be having a much better day. Lots of baggy, floral print, and polo shirts. As many men in ball caps as not. With the Allman Brothers chugging over the growing din, Tater Salad devotees followed ushers in ties and vests to their seats. A man to the right of those two pointed to the small balcony sections dating Houston Texas of wight either side of the stage and wondered to his wife if this was the theater where Lincoln had been shot.

None of which is meant to suggest that the Paramount had been overrun by rubes. The country club crests on their caps and breast pockets alone disproved that. To the contrary, consider this the common-sense set. Ditto its choice of comedian. Ron White had won this bunch over as part of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour, a supergroup of country comedians that became one of the most successful comic road shows ever.

White was considered the Blue Collar sophisticate, a deation owing chiefly to his more formal wardrobe. But his act was distinct as well. He beat them over their he with exactly the kind of everyman sagacity they were expecting to hear. And put on the f—ing helmet. The crowd erupted again and again, their applause stretching his hour-and-a-half set by a full fifteen minutes. No one seemed concerned that his description of terrorist threats might be the littlest bit racist or that his answer to air-quality concerns placed him closer to Greenpeace than the wheels of industry.

Common language? Most definitely. And commonsensical as well, steeped in a logic beyond debate.

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The audience is confident that Ron White in performance is a lot like Ron White in person. He drinks and smokes onstage, and he drinks and smokes in real life. His stories are typically pulled from that life. The year-old White became Tater Salad during a brief stint in the Navy as a teenager, when his dedication to the dish turned it into his nickname. During booking, the arresting officer, whom White had known since they were kids, sternly asked if he had any aliases. Creating a routine full of such autobiographical bits might not seem difficult—until White explains it.

Every drag of a cigar, every drink of Scotch, is there for a reason.

Ron white gets the last laugh

I bounce laughs off of laughs off of laughs. Framed by the tall collar of a white dress shirt, his face glowed pink and red, like a slice of spiked watermelon. In defense of the rest of us, it took White a little time to see it in himself.

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When he was six, his family moved from Fritch to Deer Park, just outside Houston, and about that time he found his first love, comedy records. I was into anything you could ingest in any way—hallucinogens, opiates. I had a nasty, nasty problem. Once clean, he started counseling for the program and soon became its primary speaker in the area.

The next ten years or so were a blur. He stayed clear of hard drugs, but he reunited with pot and had never really been estranged from alcohol. He moved to Arlington and started selling storm windows out of the back of his truck. It was his first taste of stand-up. Even more fateful, Jeff Foxworthy, then an unknown comedian himself, happened to be in the room. When White left the stage, Foxworthy took him aside and gave him tips on the proper positioning of punch lines in a bit.

The next day the two played golf in Fort Worth. Leaving the course together, White collided head-on with a Suburban. He could have killed them both. He spent the next thirteen years playing low-paying comedy clubs, making friends with other comedians, studying their acts, and constantly seeking ways to make his own a little bit better.

And every word spoken serves a purpose.

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Of course, getting a straight answer out of a comedian, even a serious one ruminating on the subject of comedy, can be a tall order. I want to make them laugh as hard as they physically can, to where they literally hurt the next day. I beat these people to death.

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And those are jokes that she is telling. I think Sarah Silverman is hot. Hughley, and Cedric the Entertainer—the Blue Collar tour was an instant success when it opened in January His book, a verbatim transcript of the bits on his DVDs, with occasional illustrations of punch lines, has sold more than 70, copies. There are Ron White dolls? But he cashed all the checks and is now growing accustomed to a different life. He bought a home in Atlanta and one in California. He started driving a Bentley and traveling in a Prevost luxury-liner tour bus.

Understandably, White feels good about it all. I let my fans know that I live in a gigantic house that they bought me. And I think they cheer for guys like me. The one drawback White sees is that he can no longer drop in unannounced at a comedy club. Working an open-mike night is like time in a batting cage for a comedian, but if White sits in the back of a comedy club now, the audience tends to face the wrong direction.

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So two or three times a year White convenes in Austin with four of his old comedian buddies under the rubric of the Texas Hill Country Comedy Writers Association. He puts them up in a hotel, and they work out new bits. That back bus may have been a conference room by day, but it was something entirely other at night. It was a smoke-filled Cheech and Chong bus.


We acted like pure idiots every single night. Had selling windows been this much fun, maybe White would have tried harder at that. Despite his success, not to mention his surliness, part of him still plays for the love of the game. I asked the universe to make me a famous comedian, and then it did.

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If part of the fun of drinking whisky is losing your inhibitions or tearing down walls, part of the misery of a hangover is getting those walls rebuilt, a project typically undertaken with plenty of other pounding going on inside the head.

He was on his way to audition for that new HBO series. His voice was an octave higher. The bluster was gone. I needed to nail down specifics about just how well his career was going, but he seemed embarrassed when pressed for hard dollar figures. I want it to be a surprise. His comedy buddies in Texas offered up even more good deeds by White. Last winter he dropped everything to come to Austin to work a comedy benefit organized for Katrina relief. A whirl around tatersalad. And White himself did brag about buying his mother a house and his year-old stepfather a nose job.

Does he want to start dating?

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He could be a movie star.