No one is more surprised at Luke McGregor's stage and television success than the endearingly awkward comedian himself.
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It's certainly not something he aspired to growing up at Glenorchy, a suburb of Hobart identified in a 2015 nationwide report (Dropping Off The Edge) as having "entrenched locational disadvantage".
"When I was younger I found Tassie tough. Although it wasn’t really Tassie, it was more the area that I grew up in," McGregor told LIVE.
"I didn’t fit in that well. I think my childhood was kind of standard with a little extra pepper because I had big red hair and bad teeth and braces. I guess I was a middle-ground kid. I wasn’t really that popular and I wasn’t really that hated. I tried to stick to the middle as best as I could. I tried to be invisible. But I did start to muck around in class a bit as soon as I discovered that I could make people laugh."
He found himself on the "naughty table" and school reports had a common theme: "Luke could do better if he applied himself."
"Nothing really grabbed me growing up. I liked learning but I didn’t like studying very much," he said.
McGregor has had the last laugh. He now films his popular television series Rosehaven in his home state and is a regular guest on programs like The Project and at comedy festivals. His ability to make you cringe one minute and laugh out loud the next makes him unique in the world of stand-up, where rude and crude is the norm.
It's not that McGregor has any philanthropic objection to rude and crude. It's just that he's no good at it, he says. His on-stage persona is simply an extension of what he's like socially. What you see is what you get.
"If I could tell jokes in a different way and start heckling or attacking people I’d do it, but I’m just not very good at it. I've found out that what I’m good at is the opposite. If the joke can work without swearing, all the better. It can reach more people. Some of my favourite comics swear all the time and I find it hilarious."
McGregor worked in a superannuation call centre prior to comedy.
"I started on the phones and ended up being a performance analyst for the company. Then I quit in 2012, just before my five-year long service leave," McGregor said. "I thought that if I hung around any longer I'd never leave. I must admit, I miss working with spreadsheets."
As we talk McGregor is trying to find his sunglasses. They're prescription, you see, and not cheap. I ask if they are on his head. There is a long pause while he checks.
Stand-up comedy came about when McGregor accompanied a former housemate to a Raw Comedy night.
"I tagged along for support. Someone didn’t show up and I was a bit tipsy so I thought it might be fun," he explained. "I didn’t have anything to lose. So I did it and really loved it so I kept doing it. It’s very good for paying rent and buying essentials, food and what not. I’ll just keep doing it for as long as they let me, I guess."
A shy and unashamedly anxious man, McGregor has had to work out strategies to deal with on-stage nerves.
"I focus on what I want to share rather than what I’ve got to lose. I’ve had panic attacks on stage before. These days the fun of stand-up overpowers my fear of it."
As for acting, it also happened by chance.
"I got asked to do something off the back of comedy but I have never been asked to play anything other than a nervous redhead," he said, laughing.
"No one has ever asked me to play the leader of a bikie gang. I’d probably end up having to write the role for myself. I don’t think anyone else would trust me with something more serious."
McGregor is looking forward to touring with fellow comedian Tom Ballard. Tickets to their shows (March 8 show at Nelson Bay Diggers and March 9 at Belmont 16s) are on sale now.
"It's a case of two comedians who happen to be free at the same time. There's an element, though, of wanting to use material you're happy with from a comedy festival again Playing smaller venues and towns lets us share it with people who may not have heard it."
As for living with fellow comedian and close friend Tommy Little, a radio host and regular on The Project, it's "a lot of fun".
"My only complaint is that my room is next to the lounge room so I’m the naggiest housemate by far. If the others are in the lounge room talking and I’ve gone to bed I can hear everything through my paper-thin door," he said.
"I haven’t told anyone off yet but I’m right on the cusp. I bought some ear plugs and I'll be chucking them in my ears at the next house soiree.
"It’s probably about time I got out of there, it’s been a year and I don’t want Tommy to get sick of me. He's such a lovely guy he’ll never tell me to go. I’ll probably still be there while he gets married and has kids."
He never did find his sunnies.
