Robert Klein
Friday and Saturday, Oct. 3-4, 7:30 and 10:30 p.m.
Morty’s Comedy Joint, 3625 E. 96th St.
Tickets: $29
Reservations: 317-848-5500

A phone conversation with Robert Klein often veers down a long and winding trail of thoughts, ideas and jokes.

Over the course of 48 minutes, he riffs on doing standup in Indianapolis (“So the career has come to this: Morty’s Comedy Joint”). About having once performed for 1,400 gastroenterologists who contractually obligated him to perform his colonoscopy song. The presidential campaign, comedy club names. His start at Second City in 1965 (with Fred Willard), Rodney Dangerfield (his mentor), getting asked for his date of birth three months ago when he bought beer (he’s 66). How age has affected his comedy. How he applied to Purdue University in 1958.

Talk shows, college tours (“I practically invented the college concert for comedians”), his role in “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” the lack of humor in Dane Cook’s “comedy.” The need to conserve energy, public transportation, abstinence-only education. His book “The Amorous Busboy of Decatur Avenue” and the DVD box set of his eight HBO specials.

And that’s a partial list.

It’s 20 minutes before I ask a question.

And that’s not a complaint.

Klein comes to town this week because he’s working out new material for his ninth HBO special, scheduled for sometime next year. “The way I prepare is: Go to the clubs again,” he says. “That’s the way I write the stuff. It invigorates me. I can still think funny. I’m actually better at it than I’ve ever been in my life.”

He goes off on one new riff: “I was part of two of the most successful political campaigns of the 20th century: Mondale and Dukakis. I do find parallels to this year’s election. I noticed that Mississippi politicians slightly overemphasized Dukakis’ name. They’d say, ‘Well, as far as I’m concerned, Mike Duchchchchch is a good American.’ The same thing with Obama: ‘As far as I’m concerned, Barack HUSAAAAAAAAAAIN Obama is a guy from Chicago.’ They’ve taken every trick from the old playbook, and if this can’t be reversed, we’re in trouble. I’m moving to New Zealand. No, not actually. You can’t get a bagel there.”

And shares this recollection: “I remember doing a function in Indianapolis — it may have been the Jewish Community Center. I’m not sure. But the guy who picked me up at the airport had a string of dry cleaners, and one of their customers was the local Ku Klux Klan. They had their robes dry-cleaned there. I thought that was pretty tolerant of them.”

He’s funny, engaging, forthright. Forty-three years into his career, Klein says he’s noticed one major shift: With audiences early on, he says, “It was like you against them. Now, I don’t feel adversarial in the least. There’s a kind of goodwill over the years, over the footlights.”

Here’s what else he said.

NUVO: Do you think you get your due? You’ve got this great history — eight HBO specials, some of the best comedy records ever. But when people are asked to name the best comics of all time, I don’t know that your name comes up.

Klein: Probably not. Somebody at Comedy Central, they were doing the best standups of all time, and I was 21 or something out of 100, which I thought was an outrage. All I had to hear was that Jonathan Winters was not in the top 10. He and Lenny Bruce were my direct influences. I think Richard Pryor was the best I ever saw in person.

They chose George Carlin as No. 1. I didn’t think that was right. But in a way, I underrated him because I haven’t seen a lot of his material. But I think about the sacrifices he made, getting busted after Lenny Bruce was dead. Getting busted was a tough thing. In the picture of him in his obituary in “The Times” being led away in handcuffs, he looked terrified.

Then the variety of his stuff. A book like “Brain Droppings.” I said to him — we did this Jerry Seinfeld thing together — “George, there’s no beginning, middle and end.” (Imitating Carlin’s wacky voice) “Of course not. It’s good for the shitter.” Some of his stuff was so wonderful. What I didn’t like was the darkness, which may have had something to do with his wife Brenda’s death some years before. And also the pseudo-intellectual stuff. (Again imitating Carlin, this time the gravelly voice:) “These fuckin’ corporate guys playing golf.” The man was a millionaire many times over. He was a capitalist. In other words, it was an empty ideology.

But I underrated him. He is a great one.

I tried to maintain a certain level of intelligence in the work. I never wanted to talk over people’s heads, but I always thought I would like to bring some erudition and thoughtfulness to the work. I can use a pornographic word once in a while, but not every other word. I do decry the vulgarity.

I feel like my peers understand me. I performed at the Toronto Comedy Festival earlier in the summer. They flock around me like an eminence grise. But I think my ambition has always been tempered. I didn’t take certain sitcoms over the years; I had no interest in them. I preferred staying on the East Coast. There were a lot of things that kept the career from being superstardom.

Basically, I’m at peace with the career. I don’t mind being called a big influence. I’m still not in the Museum of Natural History yet.

NUVO: Any regrets? Any roles you should have taken?

Klein: There was one — I’ve never lost any sleep over it. Well, first of all, I was offered the part opposite Alan Alda in “M*A*S*H,” before Wayne Rogers. I was a hot comedian. I loved that movie. I was in California at the time, I read for Ingo Preminger [the producer of the movie] and [director Robert] Altman, like every other actor at the time, but I didn’t get a part in the movie. I loved the movie, but I didn’t like sitcoms. I loved “Sgt. Bilko,” I loved “The Honeymooners,” “All in the Family” and a few others, but I’m just not a fan of the joke-laugh, joke-laugh. I’ve never seen “Friends.” I was late to see “Seinfeld,” but I found that hilarious.

But I didn’t want to do [“M*A*S*H”] because I never thought it would ever be as good as the movie. And it wasn’t — I don’t care what they say. I never regretted that.

About 24-25 years ago, I told my manager, Charles Joffe, “Maybe this is the right time for a sitcom.” They brought me a script called “Night Court.” It was hilarious. It was like a Marx Brothers movie. The surrounding people were funny, and Harry Anderson, who was eventually cast, was the one they worked off of. The other ones were the real characters. The judge was a wonderful part and the show was funny. I said, “You know what? I’ll do it.”

A few days later, Charlie tells me, “Those bastards! They’re offering you $20,000 an episode. That’s not enough. You’re an established star. We’re trying to get $35,000.” I figured Charlie would handle it and they’re happy to have me. It turns out, they wouldn’t budge off the $20,000.

Now, a person could eat handsomely off $20,000 an episode. And remember, in those days, if your show was a hit — maybe even after the first year — they’d tear the contract up and renegotiate and give you a tremendous raise. From a managerial point of view, it was the move for me to make to take “Night Court.” It didn’t matter that it was $20,000 an episode. But Charlie got me so riled that eventually I said forget it. In retrospect, it was a mistake. But having said that, who knows whether it would have been a hit with me? It would have been a different show. So I never lost any sleep over it.

I should have had better parts in the movies than I’ve had. But I’m not in contact, I’m not networking, I’m East Coast. It’s always been a little more difficult.

NUVO: What do you think about Al Franken running for the Senate?

Klein: I’d like him to be elected. I’d rather have him than Sen. Norm Coleman. There would be no Norm Coleman in the Senate if it weren’t for a plane crash [that killed Sen. Paul Wellstone].

You know what? I’ve read his books. He’s not always so funny, but he does nail it pretty good. He’s going to have to shed some of that stuff. But a wrestler [Jesse Ventura] was the governor of Minnesota and a steroidal bodybuilder [Arnold Schwarzenegger] is the governor of California. Franken is a Harvard graduate. He’s nobody’s fool. And he wears his political heart on his sleeve. But they’re going to try to prudishly use every bad joke he ever made against him.

He can be a little annoying. On “Air America,” I thought he was occasionally not helping the cause. A bit of a whiner. But I’m all for it. There has to be some sort of change. If this were a parliamentary democracy, this government would have been voted “no confidence” a long time ago. They have failed in every respect.

NUVO: What do you make of the changing of the guard on “The Tonight Show”?

Klein: They’re taking a chance. Conan O’Brien is very good, but I don’t know if he’s everybody’s cup of tea. Letterman is unusual enough, even though he’s heartland Indiana. I can tell you, all things being equal, Leno was not happy about it. But they told him in no uncertain terms that it’s over. They’re going to give him big sweetheart deals, but he never stops working. When I did his show a few months ago, he was on his way to Burbank Airport afterward to do a gig in San Francisco. Go by private jet and come home.

I really prefer Letterman to Leno’s technique. It’s more clever. He’s a true broadcaster. He’s not a standup, but he’s a true, American television personality. He’s done tremendously well. And the fact that he has a million less viewers [than Leno]: That’s America.