Stephen Tobolowsky, of The Tobolowsky files, talks a near-miss with haggis, baseball dreams and losing a part to Robbie Coltrane.

Tell us about your Fringe show

I perform The Tobolowsky Files, true stories about my life.  Most are funny.  Some are not. This project began a few years ago after I broke my neck riding a horse on the side of an active volcano in Iceland. My doctor told me I had a “fatal injury” – which I thought was a terrible misuse of the word fatal. While I recovered, I began to write. I bring these stories to the Fringe.

How does it feel to be playing the Fringe for the first time?

I am thrilled to perform here.  I have had several friends who have appeared at the Fringe and they have loved the experience.

 Best live act seen at Fringe?

This is my first time at the Fringe — so I don’t know what to expect.  I am arriving with the terror that only comes with excitement unchecked by experience.

If you were not a performer/comedian what would you be doing?

If I wasn’t an actor or a writer I hope I would have been a successful baseball pitcher who is retired and lives somewhere warm.

What do your family think of your show?

My wife likes my shows. My boys refuse to watch.  They also won’t friend me on Facebook.

How do you combat pre-gig nerves?

You can’t combat pre-show nerves.  At least, I can’t.  You have to make them your ally. I had a revelation once before an audition.  I got to the studio early.  I walked into the empty audition room and saw my chair in the middle of the room. I saw the Producer’s table with three chairs facing me. I was sick with nerves—and the room was empty! It was the arrangement of the chairs that scared me.  I thought, “Where could I move my chair so I felt better?” Answer: Behind the table with the other three chairs. If I could become a collaborator, I wasn’t nervous.  I always try to collaborate with my audience.

Worst on stage experience?

My worst experience on stage was in graduate school.  I had to jump out of a giant casaba melon dressed like Uncle Sam and deliver a 30-minute monologue on how corrupt America was.  The person who was supposed to feed the microphone cord wasn’t paying attention.  I jumped.  The microphone cord snapped.  I was garroted in mid air.  I crashed and rolled down the stage.  Along the way, my costume that was fastened with Velcro came off.  My Uncle Sam beard hung off one ear.  I stood up in my jockey shorts before an audience of 800. I didn’t have a clue as to where I was or what I was doing.  I wandered around the stage talking about pancakes.  It was probably the best moment in the show.

How do you recover from a hefty heckle? Do you have a set of stock replies?

My act has not been prone to hecklers.  I don’t try to be funny.  I try to tell the truth.  I have actually had members of the audience help me when I can’t find the right word. I appreciate the people who listen and I try to respect their time.

What do you love about Scotland?

? My wife and I came here when we were dating.  We love the physical beauty. The people. The golf. And the Scotch. My wife and I prefer the peaty single malts with a drop or two of water.

What do you like about Edinburgh?

It is one of our favourite cities.  We were here last summer for a vacation. We love the history of the place.  I love the food and the shopping (especially the tweed).

What’s the most Scottish thing you’ve done?

The most Scottish thing I have ever done was order Haggis on room service before I knew what it was.  My wife overheard me, jumped out of the tub, and warned me as to what I was about to do.  Then, I did one of the most American things I have ever done: I changed my order to a steak and a glass of scotch.

Who’s your favourite Scottish comedian?

I lost a part to Robbie Coltrane once. That didn’t make him my favourite. I worked with David Byrne on the movie True Stories.   David was born in Scotland.  Does that count?

Favourite joke?

A Scotsman comes into a bar and orders three pints at one time. He does this every week.  The bartender says, “You know, if you order them one at a time they are less likely to go flat.” The Scotsman explains, “Well, you see, I have two brothers.  One went to Australia.  One went to America.  We had a tradition where we always drank together on Monday night.  I drink to remember those times.  To remember them.”  This goes on for a year.  Then one night the Scotsman comes in and only orders two pints.  The pub goes quiet.  The bartender comes up respectfully and says, “My condolences.  We’re sorry for your loss.” The Scotsman understands and happily corrects him, “No. No. My brothers are fine.  I just became a Baptist and had to give up drinking.”

See The Tobolowsky Files at Pleasance – Cabaret Bar (Venue 33) from 18th August - 31st August.