Laughter the fountain of youth for octogenarian comedians

Marty Allen is on the treadmill, chatting with his trainer, when he seems to start talking to himself.

"I'll fight anybody," he declares.

"How many fights have you had?" "One hundred." "How many have you lost?" "One hundred. You can't win 'em all."

Quick was this detour into the banter that made Allen and his exploded hair famous, and which continues to keep him working at age 89.

When his wife announces his age to audiences, "they go crazy," he says. At this point, longevity might be a major part of his appeal. "It's like a whole new career," Allen says of his work on the cruise lines.

Las Vegas has so many show venues, they can produce odd coincidences on any given weekend. In the next few days, those who remember the Strip of the early 1960s might be surprised to see three familiar, 80-something comedians.

Allen and spouse Karon Kate Blackwell -- who for years has fed him the set-up lines once supplied by Steve Rossi -- are back in Louie Anderson's comedy room at Palace Station on Saturday and Sunday (and again Dec. 10-11).

Shelley Berman, who was rolling audiences with his one-sided phone calls in 1964 -- the year Allen & Rossi were on the same "Ed Sullivan Show" as the Beatles -- will be at The Improv at Harrah's Las Vegas from Tuesday through Nov. 20.

"It feels like it's part of me," the 86-year-old Berman says of the annual booking that's been at least a 10-year tradition.

And 85-year-old Don Rickles, who sustained his fame and Las Vegas career more continuously than either Berman or Allen, is back at The Orleans on Saturday and Sunday.

Is comedy the fountain of youth? Is laughter really the best medicine?

Well, yes, say the doctors. The benefits are fairly well known. Studies of the physiology of humor show laughter does indeed reduce stress and tension and release endorphins. "So in fact, there is something unique in humor, in laughter, in joking, that is very helpful," says Dr. Mitchell Forman, a rheumatologist and the founding dean of Touro University Nevada. "I definitely feel better when I laugh."

That's great for the laugh-ee. But what about the dispenser? Is it mere coincidence that three healthy octogenarians are all comedians? Can it be explained simply by the fact that they've done well in life and can afford good health care?

And what about that stereotype that comedians tend to be miserable, or at the very least, damaged people offstage? That they crave our approval to combat their own neuroses?

Comedians are "sensitive, insightful people in general," Forman says. "To find the kernel of humor in something that would not seem to be funny is very personal, something that is a gift that not everybody has."

Forman's Touro colleague, Dr. Upinder Singh, is a specialist in geriatric medicine who finds "the innately funny are able to handle pressures much, much better."

And, Singh cautions, don't stereotype older folks as people who have lost their humorous outlook. "Some of them are so funny they could put Chris Rock to shame. This is how they fight stress. People who are able to do that successfully are much healthier than people who are not able to do it."

For Allen, however, the jokes go with the gym. "I'm here every day except when I'm on the ships," he says from his treadmill at the Las Vegas Athletic Club, 5200 W. Sahara Ave., referring to the cruise ships which offer the bulk of his employment.

He drives himself to the gym in his Audi convertible. "I don't even worry about my hair."

"He'll stay on this machine forever," brags Joe Rossi, Allen's trainer for almost five years. (He's not related to Steve Rossi, though he and Allen laugh about the coincidence.) The location's most famous patron "stays on the high end of 80 percent of his maximum heart rate, and he maintains it. Four years ago, he couldn't do that."

"I could, but I never told you," Allen shouts from the treadmill.

Allen's waist also has come down more than 4 inches in as many years. "Karon gives me lettuce sandwiches."

Allen will turn 90 on March 23. It's been a long road since he was "a high school guy doing crazy things" in Pittsburgh. He followed his cousin to California and started working small clubs before "a girl singer" named Sarah Vaughan "took a liking to me and called Nat Cole" to get him work as an opening act.

It was Cole who introduced Allen to Steve Rossi, a production singer at the Sands. Allen was working steadily enough to be uncertain about the need for a partner. But he agreed to give it a test in small clubs.

"If two guys get together and the audience don't pick up on it," you can't force the chemistry, he figured. "Well, the moment we did the first little club, the audience reacted. So I felt there must be something there."

Known by Allen's hair and "Hello dere" catchphrase, the team enjoyed Vegas showrooms, several comedy albums, a movie ("Last of the Secret Agents") and more than one reunion before they both settled in Las Vegas as residents.

When people ask Allen if he's going to retire, he answers, "And do what? Hey, as long as I can go ..." he says after burning 97 calories in a half-hour on the treadmill and telling a well-wisher who can't quite remember his name that he's Brad Pitt.

Berman jokes that "I'm getting to that age when I can forget your name, I can forget my name ... I'm looking at my wife and I forget: Are we married?"

He's proud that the Improv keeps bringing him back for a week each year. However, "It isn't enough," he concedes. Especially now that Larry David doesn't call him as often to play his father on "Curb Your Enthusiasm," and after he retired from teaching a full-time comedy class at the University of Southern California.

Does Berman agree with the docs, that comedians enjoy more longevity because they have a better attitude about life?

"I get the angst out while I'm working, and I use it," he says. "I use my upset and I have fun with it. I'm a nervous wreck, and then I go out onstage and my hands stop shaking. ... I don't know, all of a sudden I calm down, everything's nice and I remember my stuff."

But he's not so sure he likes having his peers around as competition. "If that SOB Rickles draws in more people, then I'll kill him."

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.