There aren't many pratfalls in comedy anymore.

One day in '61, I was looking in the Santa Monica phone book for a number, and there it was: Stan Laurel, Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica. I went over there and spent the afternoon with them. And pumped him with questions. I must have driven him crazy. I spent a lot of happy hours at Stan's house on Sundays just talking about comedy.

There are people with their iPads are taking pictures so much that they're not experiencing the moment. They go home and look at the pictures later.

I've got plenty of arthritis. But if you keep moving, it won't bother you that much. That's why old guys stiffen up. They forget they have to get out of their chairs and do something. You let the moss grow over, it's your own fault.

When I get some budding young comic who'll come up to me and say, 'What was it like to do it in those days?' I try to be as gracious to him as Stan Laurel was to me.

A lot of violence, a lot of gore in it, and I just didn't want to do that kind of thing.

I was lucky to get the kinds of parts I wanted. I always said I didn't want to do anything my kids can't see.