Welcome to the Deep Dive. This is where we dig
into stacks of source material, all the facts,
the interviews, the history, and really try to
pull out the insights, you know, go deeper than
just the surface stuff. And today we are diving
deep into the career and, well, the pretty personal
journey of a comedian who really walks this line
between, like, incredible talent and just profound
vulnerability. We're talking about Todd Glass.
Yeah. And the source material we have here, it's
really rich. We're looking at a career that goes
back decades. I mean, starting way back in 1982.
And he's still going strong today. 40 years,
basically. Exactly. And what's really interesting,
I think, is how the sources track not just, you
know, the career ups and downs across stand up
TV podcasting, but how it's all tangled up with
these two huge, very public moments in his life.
Right. The health crisis and coming out. Yeah.
The heart attack, which was incredibly serious.
And then later coming out publicly. And the sources
really suggest these weren't just side notes.
They actually became like central fuel for his
comedy, for that specific kind of chaotic, absurd
voice he developed. That's the real core of it,
isn't it? How the personal stuff feeds the professional.
So, OK, our mission for you listening in is to
really follow this evolution. We're going to
track Glass from, you know, being this young
guy starting out in Philly to where he is now,
this veteran comic with this super unique podcast
known for being incredibly honest. And we're
going to stick to the facts, the dates, the names,
everything the sources give us to really paint
the full picture of how being transparent kind
of transformed his comedy. Definitely. Okay,
so let's start at the beginning. The origin story.
Because like we said, 40 plus years doing stand
-up. That's just, that's incredible endurance.
It really is. Todd Stephen Glass, born December
16th, 1964, Philadelphia suburbs. And the key
thing here is how early he started. It wasn't
like a post -college thing. The material shows
he was doing stand -up professionally in Philadelphia
back in 1982. He was still in high school. Conestoga
High School. Wow, okay, stand -up in high school,
that's intense. Think about it, right? Stand
-up demands so much confidence, quick thinking.
doing that while you're navigating you know high
school yeah it's got to shape you differently
you're immersed in that world so young it builds
technique sure but also just a unique perspective
compared to someone starting later yeah you can
see how that might lead to a style that's hard
to pin down the sources list his genres okay
observational yeah lots of comics do that but
then it jumps straight into surreal humor alternative
comedy and uh Exactly. It's not just set a punchline.
No. And what's interesting is how he uses that
absurdity. He's talking about stuff we all recognize,
American culture, pop culture, weird human behavior,
everyday life. But it's all filtered through
this like really nonlinear, strange lens. Lots
of self -deprecation in there, too. High energy
tangents. Impersonations. Oh, the impersonations.
Yeah. It's totally bizarre. It's like it starts
grounded, but then it just goes way off the rails.
You know, he messes with your expectations of
where a joke is going. That controlled chaos,
that pure alternate comedy. And you see that
mix early on in his career visibility. Late 80s.
He's on A &E's. an evening at the Improv. Right,
which was huge back then. A very mainstream,
traditional stand -up show, big exposure. Clearly,
he can work that room, play by those rules. But
then pretty much right after early 90s, he starts
showing up on Comedy Central. Mm -hmm, which
was just starting to become the place for edgier,
less network -y comedy. So he's succeeding in
both the old -school club system, like the Improv,
and on this new cable frontier almost at the
same time. That's just serious adaptability.
He could make his unique voice work in different
formats. Speaking of that unique voice, the sources
mentioned two personal things that might feed
into it, especially the surreal nonlinear stuff.
He's Jewish and he's dyslexic. Okay, let's unpack
that. The dyslexia connection first, maybe. Dyslexia
often involves processing information, language,
sequences in a different way, right? Not always
linear. So if you apply that kind of thinking
to stand -up comedy. It could come out as deliberately
messing with traditional timing restructure.
Instead of A leads to B leads to C. Maybe he
uses repetition or flies off on a tangent or
does these sharp character shifts that don't
follow normal logic. So the way his brain works
might actually be the engine for the absurdity?
It seems plausible, yeah. It could turn what
some might see as a challenge into like a unique
artistic strength. Yeah. It's a different wiring
that fits perfectly with surreal comedy. That's
fascinating. The thinking is the style. Sort
of, yeah. Yeah. And then you layer the Jewish
cultural background on top. There are strong
traditions in Jewish humor around storytelling,
wordplay, fast timing, deep observation. often
with self -deprecation and commentary on fitting
in or not fitting in. So that adds another layer
of influence. Definitely. It gives him another
whole tradition to draw from. So you've got maybe
dyslexia influencing the form, the chaos, the
structure, and his heritage influencing the content,
the pacing, the specific kind of self -deprecation
he uses when talking about, say, pop culture.
It makes his absurdism feel very specific to
him. It's not just random noise. It's structured,
personal chaos. OK, so he's honing this style,
this kind of structured chaos. And then segment
two, this is where he really breaks into wider
consciousness through TV, mapping out that mainstream
footprint. And ironically, the biggest splash
maybe comes from reality TV. Yeah, it's a funny
contrast, right? Yeah. His broadest exposure
probably came from being a contestant on NBC's
Last Comic Standing. He was on two seasons, actually
seasons two and three. Right, alongside some
big names came out of those seasons. Absolutely.
People like Amy Schumer, Gabriel Iglesias were
on those seasons too. Being on a highly rated
network show like that. put his, let's say, unconventional
style in front of millions who maybe weren't
hanging out in old comedy clubs. But he wasn't
just a reality contestant. He was also a fixture
on Late Night, a reliable guest. You see him
frequently on Jimmy Kimmel Live. Late night with
Conan O 'Brien. Yeah. Being a regular, trusted
face on those big network shows. Yeah. That's
a sign of a real working pro. Someone who can
deliver consistently. It separates the club comics
from the established veterans. And it's important
what kind of shows he was doing, too. It wasn't
just light chat. Exactly. While he's doing Kimmel
and Conan, he's also deep in the more... critical
and political comedy shows. He was a regular
on Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn. Which was a
very specific format, that roundtable debate
style. Very specific. And he popped up on The
Dennis Miller Show, Politically Incorrect. These
shows needed sharp, fast, often political points.
It shows he could switch from like physical absurdity
to quick -witted commentary. Wait, hold on. Being
a regular on Politically Incorrect and also being
a key part of the all -comedy scene. How does
that work? Those feel like different worlds.
How did his surreal stuff fit into like a political
debate? I think it points to the intelligence
behind the chaos. Yeah. On those panels, maybe
the delivery was more contained, but the content
still had that absurd edge, like taking a political
idea and pushing it to some ridiculous extreme.
OK. And crucially, even while getting that mainstream
and political exposure, he stayed connected to
the real alternative scene. He did spots on shows
that were defining that whole movement. We're
talking Louis, Tosh Pointazzo, and the absolute
cornerstone, Mr. Show with Bob and David. Okay,
Mr. Show. Yeah. We need to pause on that. For
anyone listening who doesn't know. Why is appearing
on Mr. Show such a big deal for alt -comedy cred?
Mr. Show was. Yeah. It was basically the ground
zero for that late 90s, early 2000s wave of smart,
postmodern, anti -establishment sketch comedy.
It threw out traditional structures, bunch lines.
It was all link sketches, super surreal, really
fast -paced. So for a comedian like Glass, whose
own stand -up is built on absurdity and surrealism,
Being on that show means you were accepted, respected
by the guys, Bob Odenkirk and David Cross, who
were basically defining that whole sensibility.
Being able to navigate between politically incorrect
panels, Conan's couch, and a show like Mr. Show,
that's incredibly rare. It shows his range and
credibility across the whole spectrum. And solidifying
that early career, he gets his own Comedy Central
present special pretty early on back in 2001.
That's the network saying, OK, we get this guy,
this unique voice. Yeah. And that same year,
2001, he drops his first standup album, Vintage
Todd Glass and Other Craps. Love that title.
It's perfect, right? So self -deprecating, totally
leans into his humor, admits maybe not every
bit's a diamond. But there's another key thing
from around that time, too, placing him right
in the heart of the L .A. alt scene. You mean
the Comedy Death Ray compilation? Exactly. The
sources mentioned he was featured on the Comedy
Death Ray 2 CD set. And this wasn't just some
random mixtape. This is a curated album featuring
comics performing in the Comedy Death Ray showcase.
At the UCB Theater. At the Upright Citizens Brigade
Theater in L .A. Which, as you know, wasn't just
a venue. It was the absolute incubator for modern
alternative comedy on the West Coast. Yeah, UCB
was ground zero. Totally. That specific night,
Comedy Death Ray, run by Scott Aukerman and B
.J. Porter, it basically shaped the aesthetic
and launched the careers of a whole generation
of comics who broke away from the mainstream.
Think comedy, bang, bang, and all that followed.
Being on that compilation, CD puts Glass right
in the middle of that hugely influential UCB
scene in the mid -2000s. He was a bridge figure.
Comfortable in traditional clubs, but also right
there at the start of this new chaotic long form
thing. He was there. And then a bit later, 2009,
he releases another album, Thin Pig, July 7th,
2009, on Comedy Central Records. So you see this
progression, the specials, the albums in 01,
09, the TV work. He's building steadily, clearly
wanting more creative room, more time. Which
leads perfectly into the next phase, segment
three, the format that could finally contain
him. Yeah, the move into audio. This is where
he really carves out his own unique space, right?
Absolutely. The podcast format just seems tailor
-made for a comic mind that works in tangents,
that thrives on collaboration and, well, chaos.
It lets him be nonlinear in a way a tight five
on TV never could. But he didn't jump straight
into his own show. There was an earlier podcast
first. Right. He dipped his toe in the water
with comedy. Yeah. And everything else. He co
-hosted that one with Jimmy Dore and Stefani
Zamorano. You can see that as like his lab, a
place to figure out how sustained conversation,
how tangents work in audio without the pressure
of TV time limits or a live club audience expecting
punchlines every few seconds. But he didn't stick
with it for too long. No, he left that show in
September 2009. They officially announced his
departure on the November 20th episode that year.
But importantly, the sources note he came back
later as a guest multiple times. Oh, OK. So it
wasn't like a bad breakup. Doesn't sound like
it. More like he realized he needed his own vehicle,
full creative control to do what he really wanted
to do. Which brings us to The Todd Glass Show.
Debuts August 2011 on the Nerdist Network. And
this show. This is where things get really different,
really specific to him. Yeah, this is his definitive
statement in the format. Because it wasn't just
him chatting with a guest. It embraced the chaos,
the surrealism of his stand -up, but used the
technology, the format itself, to make it even
more pronounced. And the key is the structure,
right? It's not just Todd. It's this ensemble,
a regular crew, guests who are in on the joke,
technical people who are part of the comedy itself.
We have to break down this crew and structure
because it's what makes the show unique. It's
not like any other comedy podcast, really. It's
like structured, produced absurdity. And the
production team are essentially co -performers.
So who are the key players in this? Okay, so
you have the regular comedian collaborators who
would often be there, people like Rory Scovel,
Rory's wife Jordan, Blake Wexler. They're jumping
in on the bits, the tangents, the characters.
But the real genius, the structural innovation,
is bringing the technical crew into the comedy
in real time. Making the engineers and musicians
part of the act. Exactly. So you've got the audio
engineers Katie Levine and Aristotle Acevedo,
who everyone calls Jetski. Their job isn't just
to make it sound good. It's to react comedically.
They're dropping in sound effects, music cues,
weird noises, often totally unexpectedly, to
heighten a moment or just derail things completely.
It's integral to the show's feel. And the musicians,
too, Lynn Shore and Joe McKenzie, the sources
specifically say they write and perform the show's
jingles and audio cues. Why is that detail so
defining? Because it makes the podcast feel live,
almost like interactive theater. Someone mentions
a funny concept or Todd has an outburst and boom,
the musicians might create and perform a little
song or jingle about it right there on the spot.
Sometimes satirical, sometimes just perfectly
capturing the weirdness of the moment. Instant
musical commentary. Yeah. That kind of immediate
required musical integration. You just don't
hear that on other comedy podcasts. It's the
audio version of his chaotic standup style blown
up into this long form, constantly shifting self
-referential soundscape. It's using production
itself as a comedic tool, takes real commitment,
real spontaneity, but also high technical skill
to pull off. So this show, starting in 2011,
becomes this anchor for him. He's still touring,
still recording, but he has this continuous outlet
that perfectly fits his voice built around this
specific community. Exactly. And having that
platform, that community, that connection with
the audience. Yeah. It gives him the space for
what comes next. Yeah. Segment four, moving from
just being a funny guy to being this incredibly
public truth teller. Things he could never really
explore in a five minute spot on. Kimmel found
a home here. Okay. Segment four. This is where
we shift focus to these two huge life -changing
things that Todd Glass shared very publicly.
And these moments really changed the perception,
right? From just a comedian to someone showing
incredible bravery, connecting his stage life
to his real vulnerable self, often for a reason
beyond himself. And the first one, the health
scare. It happened right in the middle of things
while he was working, which is just terrifying.
April 16th, 2010, he collapses backstage at Largo.
The club in L .A. Yeah, the famous Largo in L
.A. Right after performing, apparently. Suffered
a heart attack. Not at home. Not quietly. Literally
at his workplace. Moments after being on stage.
And the sources are clear. It was serious. 100
% blockage in his arteries. Had to have an angioplasty
right away. Yeah. And what's just astounding
is how quickly and how openly he talked about
it. Just nine days later, he's on the Bonnie
Hunt show talking about this brush with death.
Nine days. That's incredibly fast and incredibly
candid. It really is, especially given how severe
it was. 100 % blockage is no joke. And he didn't
just share the event. He shared the why. He was
very upfront, attributing it to, quote, bad genetics.
Right. He talked about his family history. Yeah.
So his dad had his first heart attack at only
30 and died from another one at 46. Yeah. So
by giving that context, he framed his own crisis
not as like a personal failing, but almost as
this genetic destiny he had to confront. And
it wasn't just a one off mention. He kept talking
about it, updating people on his recovery, showing
the ongoing effort involved. Like when he was
on the Adam Carolla show, it was a December 2012,
a couple of years after the attack. He gave specifics.
Yeah. This is where we get the real details of
the lifestyle change. Yeah. He said he'd lost
30 pounds by then. which takes sustained effort.
He talked about quitting smoking, clarifying
he'd been a pack -a -month smoker before, which
adds a bit of color, right? Yeah. And because
of the genetics, he started taking Liptivore
to manage the risk. Giving those details, it
paints a picture of responsible, long -term management,
not just the initial drama. It's about the daily
work of staying healthy after something like
that. So this theme of public vulnerability,
starting with this really serious physical crisis
linked to genetics, it kind of sets the stage
for the second big disclosure, one that was maybe
less about fate and more about personal choice
and social conscience coming out publicly. Right.
And the timing and the platform for that are
really key. He chose WTF with Marc Maron, episode
245, January 16th, 2012. Which by then, WTF was
the place for comedians to get really honest,
right? Absolutely. It was known for these deep,
often raw conversations about careers, struggles,
trauma. It offered this sort of safe space, but
with a massive engaged audience, perfect for
something this significant. And the sources say,
look, his friends, his family, they knew he was
gay. But telling the world publicly was a big
step professionally and personally. But it's
the reason he gave that's so powerful. Yeah,
it wasn't just about him. He explicitly said
he'd been worried about coming out publicly.
But the recent wave of suicides among LGBT youth.
Yeah. That's what pushed him to do it. That was
his motivation. Wow. That detail is just crucial.
He's linking his personal truth directly to a
social cause to potentially helping kids who
are struggling. He saw his platform not just
for jokes, but for visibility, for responsibility,
maybe even saving lives. So you have these two
huge moments of vulnerability presented very
differently. First, the heart attack in 2010,
physical, life threatening, attributed to bad
genetics, kind of out of his control. Then two
years later, coming out emotional, social, a
deliberate choice made on a major platform. driven
by a desire to address suffering. It's a really
powerful contrast. Discussing a near -death experience,
sharing his identity, both show this incredible
commitment to transparency. It shifted his public
image, I think. He wasn't just a funny, chaotic
guy anymore. He was using his platform to be
radically human, connecting his own life to bigger
social issues. And that vulnerability, weirdly,
probably made his comedy stronger, deeper. It
grounded the absurdity in something very real.
Yeah, it adds this whole other... The chaos on
stage feels different when you know the chaos
and the truth he's navigated off stage. It shows
how comedy that starts absurd can end up being
profoundly truthful, even a form of public service.
Okay, so wrapping things up in segment five,
let's just quickly look at his output beyond
the live stage and the podcast, confirming he's
still writing, still recording, keeping that
momentum going alongside all this transparency.
Yeah, looking at his albums, he didn't stop just
because the podcast took off. After that 2009
Thin Pig album, he released Todd Glass Talks
About Stuff in 2013. And then Todd Glass... Act
Happy came out in 2018. So the podcast complements
the stand -up, it doesn't replace it. Exactly.
He keeps the stage work going, that pure stand
-up form, while the podcast is this whole other
beast for the collaborative chaos. But the big
written piece is the book, right? Which seems
to pull all these threads together, the absurdity,
the career history, the personal honesty. Right,
the book, the Ty Glass situation, a bunch of
lies about my personal life. and a bunch of true
stories about my 30 -year career in stand -up
comedy. Even the title is classic glass, right?
Yeah, totally meta. It acknowledges that whole
blurry line in comedy between what's real and
what's the act. The structure lies about personal
life, true stories about career. It flips expectations,
maybe suggesting that career was the place he
felt safest, being honest in a weird way. That
came out in 2014 from Simon & Schuster. For anyone
wanting to grab it, the ISBN is 978 -14767 -14417.
And that publication date, 2014, is interesting.
Two years after he came out publicly, it seems
like a time where he was really consolidating
that candor across different forms. So pulling
it all together, the final picture. You've got
this absolute veteran, performing since 82, still
touring constantly, still putting out albums
decades into his career. But he didn't just,
like... survive this shift to new media, he built
this incredibly unique, successful podcast community
around his specific style, the chaos, the absurdity.
And it's all underpinned now by this foundation
of hard work and more recently, this really remarkable
personal honesty that took him from just being
a great comic to being a really influential,
important voice. Yeah, it's not many comics who
can talk about needing an angioplasty because
of genetics and then also talk about why they
came out publicly for social reasons and then
maybe pivot to discussing a ridiculous jingle
on their podcast, all with the same energy. The
sources really give us the timeline, the details
to see that whole arc, the longevity, the adaptability
and just the sheer guts involved. He used his
platform not just for laughs, but for radical
honesty. Which brings us to a final thought,
something for you, the listener, to chew on.
Glass pins his heart attack, that 100 % blockage,
on bad genetics, something unavoidable, biological
fate almost. But then he chose to share both
that vulnerability and his identity as a gay
man, the latter specifically for a social reason
to help struggling kids. Right. Fate versus choice.
Exactly. So it makes you wonder, right? For any
artist, anyone in the public eye, when does their
biggest contribution stop being just the art
itself, the laughs from the absurd jokes in his
case, and become the specific unvarnished truth
they decide to share about themselves? And maybe
even more interestingly, how does sharing that
truth actually feed back into and strengthen
the very absurd or surreal or chaotic art they
were making all along? Does the honesty make
the chaos ring truer?