2 ST THE NEW YORK TIMES, SUNDAY, JUNE 28, 2020
A few months ago, Leslie Jordan didn’t
know he was about to hit it big. Mr. Jordan,
who was known for roles in “Will & Grace”
and “Murphy Brown,” was working, sure.
But his name didn’t exactly roll off the
tongue.
Then the coronavirus swept the United
States, and Mr. Jordan had some time on his
hands. He started posting funny little vid-
eos of himself in isolation twice a day on In-
stagram. There he was, complaining about
his mother and boredom, reminiscing about
Hollywood stories or doing his exercises.
The phone was so close to his face that you
could see his pores.
Today, he has almost five million follow-
ers, a new show and a potential book deal.
“For someone 65 years old to all of a sud-
den be, like, an internet star?” he said. “I’ve
loved attention, wanted it my whole career,
and I’ve never gotten this kind of attention.
I mean, even on ‘Will & Grace,’ winning an
Emmy, it wasn’t anything like when you
have social media. When you’ve become a
success there, it’s unbelievable.”
Early in the pandemic, Mr. Jordan was
with his family in Tennessee, before return-
ing to his home in Los Angeles, where he
has been “hunkered down,” as he likes to
say, amid protests spurred by the killing of
George Floyd and countless other acts of
systemic racism in America. Sober for 22
years, Mr. Jordan, 65, decided not to protest
because of his age and his mental health.
“I’m really divided whether I would go on
Instagram or anything about it,” he said.
“But when you have 4.7 million followers, I
mean, you can’t just sit silent. I’m a gay man
who went through a lot of the early gay
rights movement.”
He chose instead to turn his Instagram
over for one day to Deesha Dyer, a former
social secretary in the Obama administra-
tion, who now is a creative event strategy
consultant.
“Look, I think it’s time for me just to lis-
ten, just to listen,” he said.
Here, Mr. Jordan answers some ques-
tions on the charming beginnings of his so-
cial media (a confusion between “post it”
and “Post-it”), his early career goals
( jockey) and more. This interview has been
edited.I didn’t follow you before this all started, but
I think that video where you call down the
stairs to your mother, that’s where you got
me. Was this whole thing intentional or were
you surprised by the response?
I wasn’t even on Instagram. I was doing a
television series for Fox called “The Cool
Kids.” I would say something funny and the
publicity girls would run over and tell me,
“Post that. That’s really funny. You should
post that.” I didn’t know if they meant
Post-its.
So they signed me up, and all of a sudden I
had 20,000 followers. And then it went to 80
and that’s where it kind of capped out, at
80,000 followers.
And then during this period, I was back
home in Tennessee, very bored. I thought,
“They’re going to make us stay home, and I
think that I should stay here with my mom,”
and I have identical twin sisters, 22 months
younger than me. So I thought, “I can’t live
with those three old ladies.” I love them to
death, but I rented a place.
I had a little B&B, but I was in Chatta-
nooga. There’s not a lot to do. So I started
posting funny things. And that’s where that
one came about.How are you adjusting to your new fame?
It’s funny, because even with a mask and a
hat people recognize me. My friend said,
“Well, honey, you’re 4-11. You know what I
mean? You’re 4-11. It’s not like you can go
out.”
What I love though, are people that pull
me aside and say: “Listen, I don’t want to
bother you, but I’ve had a rough go. I’ve
been locked down. I’ve got kids and I looked
forward to your posts and you really, really
helped me through this tough time.” When
people tell you things like that, you realize
comedy is important.You mentioned you were in Chattanooga
with your mom and sisters. How was that?
My dad was a career Army man. I’ve said
lieutenant colonel before — people said,
“No, he wasn’t.” Right below that, whatever
that was.
But anyway, his plane went down when I
was 11. So it’s always just been Mama and
the twins and me, and we’re very, very, very
close. The twins are real close. I’m the quiet
one! My mother and I will marvel. We’ll
hear them in there just yammering, just
back and forth.What was your childhood like?My mother had me at 19. My dad was 23. It
just amazes me. But they were just kids who
had kids really early, and we never stopped.
I mean, just, we were on the go constantly.
Now, I had a secret. I was a little bit
effeminate, and that kind of played into all
of it as I got older.Do you think your parents knew that you
were gay from an early age?
I’ve asked my mom, and she said my dad
was worried. He asked her when I was
about 6: “Why does Leslie only play with
girls? Shouldn’t he have male friends?”
Mother jumped to my defense immediately
and said, “Well, there’s not that many boys
in the neighborhood, Allen.” So, they sent
me to the Baylor Camp for Boys that
summer.
It was day camp, but they had a parents’
day. They were giving out ribbons. So here’s
one for the best archer, here’s for the best
horseback rider, here’s for the best swim
person; and I didn’t win anything. And my
mother said my dad was just sinking lower
and lower and said, “I have scarred this
child for life.”
And then they came out with the trophy
and said: “This is for the best all-around
camper. We have this kid who wasn’t actu-
ally the best at anything, but boy, he sure did
make us laugh.” And I won best all-around
camper. That’s kind of the way it was. They
would worry, but I was a very gregarious,
outgoing kid.
I’ve wondered, had my dad not died when
I was 11, would it have been a different sort
of coming-out process? Because in high
school, I tried at one point to tell people, and
they were like, “Duh.” It’s like I had this
huge secret. “Listen, I’m gay.” They’re like,
“Yeah.” So there was no real reveal.
And then I moved to Atlanta. And in the
’70s, oh my gosh, that was like the San Fran-
cisco of the East Coast. I had a good time,
way too good of a time.
What were you doing in Atlanta?
I’m a really good horseback rider. I grew up
riding, and I started exercising race horses,
toying with the idea that maybe I could be a
jockey. I did that from the time I left Atlanta,
when I was about 22, until I was almost 27.
And then when I was about 27 or 28, I
didn’t see that continuing, and I thought,
“I’m going to go back to school.” I went back
to school for journalism, and the first day
everybody said: “Take that Intro to Theaterclass. It’ll get your arts elective out of the
way.”
I’ve always been funny, mainly to keep
the bullies at bay, but it just hit me like a
drug. I was funny. I got that degree and got
on a bus, honey. I had $1,200 that Mother
pinned into my underpants, and I had de-
cided New York or L.A. And if I was going
to starve, I wanted to starve with a tan.
So, I got on a bus to Hollywood in 1982,
with my degree in theater, a little suitcase
and a dream. When I look back, I think,
“Were you nuts?” But I did really well, re-
ally well, right off the bat. Commercials
mainly, in the beginning.Tell me a little bit more about your early
career.
There was an actress out of Chicago named
Clara Peller. She was an old character actor
for Wendy’s. She said, “Where’s the beef ?”
All of a sudden, they just wanted charac-
ters, the funnier-looking the better.
I started taking a commercial class, and I
got a commercial agent. And within nine
months, I had something like eight national
television commercials. I mean, I was like
Flo. People would recognize me. I was the
PIP Printing guy. I was the elevator opera-
tor to Hamburger Hell for Taco Bell, where
you went if you didn’t eat tacos.
And then I got “Murphy Brown.” I think
that was probably my kind of break. After
that aired, my agent called me. He said:
“I’ve never had this happen. I’ve been in
this business for 30 years.” He goes: “Burt
Reynolds wants to see you; can you do a sit-
com with his wife, Loni Anderson? Mr.
Spielberg’s people want to meet you for this
project. Peewee Herman wants to put you
on his kids’ show.” I mean, it was all like one
day. I had a break, a true break. I’ve just
been working ever since.What have you been working on for the last
couple of years?
Well, “Will & Grace” came back, and so I
started doing a few of those. Ryan Murphy
sporadically writes me into “American Hor-
ror Story.”
And then I have a one-man show that I do
about 44 venues a year. Smaller venues,
usually gay bars or something like that, but
200-, 300-seat theaters. I’m always work-
ing, always. I got to keep the ship afloat.So how are you spending your days now? I
know you have a new show, “Call Me Kat,”
coming up.
I do. That’s kind of the wonderful thing
about this little period right here, because I
have a job lined up. I would be kind of wor-
ried, like, “What if the entertainment indus-
try.... ” The minute it starts up, I have 13
episodes for Fox on “Call Me Kat.” The pilot
script is so delightful. We’ve got such a
great cast.
I’m writing. I have a book deal pending.
I’ve got three companies that are kind of vy-
ing, so it’s a wonderful time to be Leslie.I can’t help but notice your apartment. Did
you decorate it yourself?
I sure did.
People say, “Well, did you have a decora-
tor?” I’m gay. We don’t need decorators.
Who would I hire? My friend? And then
we’d fight over it? No.What’s next?
I’ve done film. I’ve done lots of television.
So, it’s kind of like gravy from here on out.
Do I have any big plans for this or that? It’ll
happen. And that’s a wonderful place to be,
at 65, that I’ve done what I set out to do. So
now let’s just have some fun.STYLES Q. AND A.
He’s Living in His Moment
The actor Leslie Jordan has
always wanted attention.
Naturally, he found Instagram.
By LINDSEY UNDERWOODPHOTOGRAPHS BY MICHELLE GROSKOPF FOR THE NEW YORK TIMESLeslie Jordan, 65, is a veteran actor who is known for his roles in “Will & Grace” and “Murphy
Brown.” “It’s funny, because even with a mask and a hat people recognize me,” he said.Mr. Jordan, whose roles have included being the elevator operator to Hamburger Hell for Taco Bell.Read, watch and listen to the stories.
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