Six foot three. Red hair. Has a desk now. Still not entirely sure how that happened.
My name is Ward Connelly. I am the host of Late Night with Ward Connelly, which is a television show that airs late at night. I understand that this is self-evident from the title, but I believe in being thorough. Thoroughness is the cornerstone of professionalism, and professionalism is the cornerstone of pretending you know what you're doing. I have been pretending I know what I'm doing for approximately fifteen years. It has gone better than expected.
I started in improv in Chicago, which is where people go to learn how to say "yes, and" to increasingly unlikely premises. I was good at improv. Not great. Great is a word you use for people who leave improv. Good is a word you use for people who stay in improv for slightly too long and then pivot to something else. I pivoted.
The pivot was a podcast. It was called Seriously, Though, and it was a show where I interviewed people with complete earnestness about things that did not necessarily warrant earnestness. I interviewed a man who had ranked every public water fountain in the city of Portland. I gave him forty-five minutes. He used all of them. That episode got eleven downloads. Eight of them were my mother, who kept accidentally restarting it.
"The clip didn't go viral because it was funny. It went viral because I was not trying to be funny. I was trying to conduct a serious interview with a malfunctioning AI assistant. The AI kept calling me 'Dr. Connelly.' I am not a doctor. I corrected it nine times. It did not care."
That clip got twelve million views. Twelve million people watched a six-foot-three redhead politely but firmly correct a chatbot's understanding of his credentials while the chatbot attempted to schedule him for a dental appointment he had not requested. The internet decided this was content. The network decided this was a host. I decided not to argue with either of them, because I had seen what happens when you argue with the internet, and it is not good.
So now I have a desk. The desk is mahogany. I did not choose mahogany. Roxanne chose mahogany, because Roxanne makes all the decisions that matter and most of the decisions that don't. I sit behind the desk on Wednesdays and Fridays and I talk to people. Sometimes the people are famous. Sometimes the people are interesting. Occasionally, and this is the ideal, the people are both.
I prepare for every interview as if I am about to defend a doctoral thesis on the subject of the person sitting across from me. This is because I believe preparation is a form of respect, and also because the alternative is winging it, and I have seen other hosts wing it, and it is always obvious and it is always bad. I read the book. I watch the movie. I listen to the album twice. If you are a scientist, I will read your paper. I will not understand your paper, but I will have read it, and that puts me ahead of most of the people who will interview you.
The show has a monologue, which Roxanne writes and I deliver as if I thought of it myself. It has desk segments, which are bits that begin reasonably and escalate until someone on the production staff is visibly concerned. It has interviews, which I have described. And it has music, played by The Connelly Five, who are led by Chester Mack, who is the finest musician I have ever stood near.
Chester once told me that the secret to a great band is knowing when not to play. I told Chester that the secret to a great host is knowing when not to talk. He looked at me and said, "You don't know that secret yet." He was correct. I am working on it.
I am six foot three. I have red hair. I take comedy seriously but not myself. Or I take myself seriously but not comedy. I can never remember which one is the right answer. Either way, I have a desk, and I will be behind it twice a week, building toward more, because this is the only thing that has ever made sense to me, and I have tried a remarkable number of things that did not.