Judy Gold, 61: Just Humor Me

Judy Gold has always stood up for herself and the rights of others.

This Emmy-award-winning comedian, actor, activist, mother, and all-around badass is a powerhouse of sharp wit and heartfelt sincerity, redefining comedy at every turn. Whether taking on political climates or diving deep into the complexities of identity, Judy’s journey is about more than just laughs — it’s about wielding humor as a weapon of truth.

From shattering stereotypes about age and gender to bravely sharing her battle with depression, Judy’s life is a testament to resilience and courage. Her activism isn’t a side note; it’s front and center. She’s a fierce advocate for LGBTQ+ rights and a relentless fighter against discrimination.

Join us to hear Judy Gold dish out her candid insights on life, comedy, and the shifting tides of societal norms. With Judy, you’ll see that humor isn’t just entertaining — it’s a force for change.

How old are you? 
I’ll be 62 in November.

Are you married?
Never legally. I’ve been in a committed relationship for over 17 years.

And children?
I have two. Henry will be 28, and Ben will be 23.

And where do you live?
The Upper West Side of New York and Provincetown, Massachusetts.

How did you get your start?
By doing stand-up on a dare in college. I went to Rutgers and did my first set in December 1981.

It was the beginning of my sophomore year. After that, I started doing stand-up work at every restaurant and every Ramada Inn. They also had a campus comedy thing, and comedians from Catch a Rising Star, THE club in New York City in the ’80s and early ’90s, would bring New York comedians to college campuses, and I got to do five minutes. My mother was there; and so was Larry Amoros; Adrianne Tolsch, God rest her soul; and Bill Scheft. And I did it, and they said, “You’re hilarious.” And I was like, “What? Coming from people who did this for a living?”

Adrianne ran the open mic night at Catch a Rising Star. She said, “Come in on a Monday. You have to hang out all night and pray that you get on.” I never did, but I learned so much watching these fantastic comedians. I graduated in 1984, took a lot of acting classes, and started really doing it in 1985. 

How did the political climate of the ’80s influence your comedy?
At first, it didn’t. I focused on relatable topics like my Jewish mother, which resonated widely. So, I must thank my mother for being so — Can I curse on this?

“We were funny in our family. Not affectionate, but a clever quip was like getting a hug”

Yeah, sure. 
So, fucking funny. I would call her and say, “I need some new jokes.” [laughs] And I remember at the end of her life, I was like, “Mom, you can’t die because I’m going to have no material.” And Joy Behar said, after my mother died, “What will you do now? You gotta change your whole act.” 

She died in 2015. Those jokes are timeless and are still the funniest jokes I have ever written. 

We were funny in our family. Not affectionate, but a clever quip was like getting a hug. 

It’s a Jewish thing. We ask questions. Just look at a bar- or bat mitzvah. It’s taking a text that has been read and analyzed for thousands of years and finding a new way to look at it. And that’s what a joke is, too. 

That’s so interesting. Where do you find inspiration for your comedy?
I’m very political now, and I always vowed not to be political because your jokes don’t last that long, and I just want to be funny. 

But I came out of the closet on stage when my son was born in 1996, so I had to be political, even if it didn’t sound political. I often say that I came out because of my son, but it was precisely because of him that it made it easier for me to come out because I was talking about being a mom. And so many people could relate to that and start forgetting I was gay, and that was so powerful.

“There’s no comedy without considering someone’s intent or context and nuance”

And then, with the way the political climate has changed through 9/11 and then marriage equality and the state of antisemitism, there’s no comedy without considering someone’s intent or context and nuance.

I thought people would turn on me here in Provincetown because I was working on October 7th, and it was the first time I’ve ever addressed anything like that. And now I wear my star and my dog tag for the hostages, and people say thank you for speaking up and thank you for wearing that. So, you see, I have yet to have the luxury of not being political.

Did you encounter a lot of homophobia?
Oh, my God. What do you think? Homophobia, misogyny.  I think I had a different vantage point because I’m really tall, so I have this presence, and I would give it right back to the guys, and I didn’t want anything from them because I was gay. I just wanted to be a great comedian. That’s why all the guys I came up with have respect for me: I never genderized anything. But the shit I had to listen to was just unbelievable but also funny.

And I also say that people should not be punished for something they said 30 years ago. I don’t believe in that. As an activist, I fight to change people’s minds. 

“Comedy Central told my manager that I aged out of having a special”

How about ageism?
It’s unbelievable. Comedy Central told my manager that I aged out of having a special.

Look at Dave Attell, who’s probably a year younger than me; Lewis Black, older than me; Robert Klein, brilliant, older than me. Jeff Ross is within my age group. Ray Romano is older. But they’re still funny. Looking at the ’80s, great comedians like Cathy Ladman, Carol Leifer, Wendy Liebman, Elayne Boosler, and Paula Poundstone all wear these shoulder pads and non-sexualized outfits. Now, I look at Amy Schumer, Rachel Feinstein, and all these fantastic comedians who can be sexy, too.

Like Zainab Johnson, who had a special called Hijabs Off. She’s beautiful, Muslim, and hilarious. 

But, back to ageism, you can’t find a special right now of a woman over 60 or a woman over 55 on any of the major networks. Joan Rivers was my mentor, and I loved everything about her. For her five decades in stand-up, you knew exactly where women stood in society, and she never gave up. She’s an inspiration. But it is constantly, “You’re not their demographic.” Then I perform, and there are 24-year-olds hysterically laughing.

Can you describe a challenge and how you overcame it? 
In 2010,  I had terrible clinical depression. I had never experienced anything like that before. I’ve always suffered from anxiety, and I have ADHD that was diagnosed as an adult, but this was otherworldly. I couldn’t speak. I had diurnal depression, where I could not function during the day. But when the sun went down, I felt a little relief. And I realized I always felt like that. I always had a hard time getting up and getting through the day. At night, I felt the most energized, relaxed, and relieved. So, that was something I had to work through, and thank God for Elysa, my girlfriend. She’s a licensed clinical social worker, so she was really helpful.

“In 2010, I had terrible clinical depression”

It was a perfect storm. I had just put my mother in a nursing home. I thought I had this great TV job, and it didn’t happen. And I was in debt. It was just a whole bunch of bad shit, and it triggered me.

I went to cognitive and behavioral therapy and worked my ass off to get out of that depression, so I have a toolbox and am much kinder to myself now. I wasn’t suicidal, but I understood why people wanted to take their own lives. I’m thankful for the Gary Gulmans, who get up there and talk about it. And he’s one of the people I’ll text when I’m having a shitty day. Taking the stigma away is so important. But that was a big hurdle. And it changes you as a person.

But my kids are like, “You know what? I liked you when you were depressed because you didn’t talk.”

I’m like, thanks so much. 

Well, at least they inherited your sense of humor. 
That’s true.

Do you exercise?
Every day. I play tennis, go to the gym, bike, spin, and do intervals on the treadmill. I’ve been working out my entire life.

I do weights, and I have a trainer. My son is a college basketball player. We’ve always been a very active, sporty family.

“[Music is] so good for my mental health and my brain”

Are you a music lover?
Oh, my God. I was a music major in college. I practiced piano and still do. It’s so good for my mental health and my brain. I love music, but I’m stuck in the 1970s.

Classic rock, Karen Carpenter, Burt Bacharach, Frank Sinatra, showtunes, Bert Kaempfert, Elton John, Billy Joel, Barbra Streisand, James Taylor, and Adele are all faves. I don’t know how I would survive without music. 

What are some of your favorite things to do in New York?
When I’m there, there are times that I don’t have to leave my apartment. I have a Peloton and weights. I have my desk and office, and I can order food, but that’s not good for me. Sometimes I have to get the hell out of the apartment. I love walking in Riverside Park. Back in the day, I used to be a runner but can’t run now because I had two total knee replacements. I love going to restaurants and the theater. I do a lot of stand-up. The culture is like nowhere else in the world. I love Lincoln Center, the Theater District, and downtown. And then I get aggravated.

Everything takes so fucking long, it’s so hard, and the subway sucks. And places used to be open 24 hours. There’s nothing open 24 hours anymore.  It’s crazy. What the hell’s going on?

“I’m like an old-fashioned Jewish mother. But I’m also immature and inappropriate”

Spoken like a true New Yorker. What are you most proud of?
My children are my greatest accomplishment. They are such good people and decent human beings. I love spending time with them and Elysa, just being together. 

It’s funny. You’re known for being bold and brash but quite traditional.
I am so old-fashioned. My parents were much older when they had me; they should have been my grandparents. My grandmother was born in 1896. But they were set in their ways and knew what was necessary. 

I was like, “Can I get this?” “No, you’re not getting that. No one needs that.” We had Shabbat dinner every Friday night, and we went to shul. My mother was very observant and proud. They were very involved in the synagogue. So yeah, I’m like an old-fashioned Jewish mother.

But I’m also immature and inappropriate, so I have two sides.

“That’s when comedy is a weapon used for good”

How do you see the landscape now for LBGTQ+ comics?
I walk into these clubs, and there’s a trans person, nonbinary, gay, whatever. No one gives a shit. Because of social media, they can choose who they want to see, so that’s a positive.

I remember when it wasn’t like that. People would get up, leave, get quiet, shift, or heckle. I’m so thankful that these younger comics don’t have to deal with that, but I want them to know what it was like because when we forget our history, there’s a sense of entitlement.

And during the AIDS crisis, people were so scared of a gay man on stage. I remember my best friend, Bob Smith, who died of ALS. He was out in the ’80s and put up with a lot of shit because he was in the straight clubs, and then there was Steve Moore, who was the piano player at the Comedy Store in LA. He had HIV, and he would make jokes like, “If you don’t laugh, I’m going to open a vein and get rid of all of you.” It was hilarious but dangerous. And it served this purpose where these people were like, “Oh, I like this guy, and he’s HIV positive.” That’s when comedy is a weapon used for good.

And then you look at comedy as a weapon to humiliate people. If you have no self-awareness, you can’t take a joke. If you’re insecure, you can’t laugh at yourself. Hitler passed the Treachery Act, I think it was 1934, where listening to or telling anti-Nazi jokes was an act of treason punishable by imprisonment or death. Because great stand-up, great satire, and great comedy weaken propaganda. But to be clear, that was 1934; and in 1933, they started banning books. So, we’re repeating the same shit over and over again. It’s dangerous.

I’m a free speech advocate on the National Coalition Against Censorship board. And even if it’s horrible, awful speech, you can’t silence it because you need to know who’s saying what and who your enemies are, and you need to fight.

“I’m a free speech advocate; even if it’s horrible, awful speech, you can’t silence it because you need to know who’s saying what and who your enemies are, and you need to fight”

What are your three non-negotiables?
Well, I have to exercise.

Lying is another. And cheap people — I can’t with stingy people. I understand being frugal, but when you go to dinner, they say, “I had this soup, and I don’t drink.” And it’s like, you’re fucking annoying. I also can’t deal with anti-semitism. 

Oh, and I like my wine.

What’s next?
I did a show based on my book and hope to perform it again this fall. I’m looking forward to that. I love doing stand-up, so I’m going on tour.

Do you still love going on tour?
I hate traveling so much.

The thing about this business is that you could be negative but you can’t say that you’re pessimistic, because you always think something big is about to happen.

Everyone says, “You’re so negative.” If I were that negative, I’d work in an insurance company.

But comics don’t look at the world the same way. We say shit to each other that we would never say to civilians.

Civilians? Ha. Talk about growing older.
I wake up in the morning, like, “Am I this age? I’ve already been in my 30s, 40s, and 50s. Oh, my God.” And as your kids approach 30, you just are like, “Woah.” Because I don’t feel or act this age, but my body is like, “You’re fucking old.” It’s really crazy.

I wish I had known that even in your 60s and 70s, you still don’t think you’re old.

Tell me a joke.
I have so many favorite jokes from my mother, but this is one that people still recite to me. Years ago, there was a guy who was throwing darts at women’s asses in the subway, and they called him the dart man. And it was all over the news. When I got home one night, there was a message on my machine from my mother, and all it said was, “Judith. Wear thick clothes.” 

And I was like, “That’s gold. It’s going right in my act.” 

It was great talking with you.
Yeah, this was great. I had fun. Take care.

You can see Judy advocating for queer rights in the new Netflix documentary Outstanding: A Comedy Revolution.