If you want to bond with The Daily Show’s Desi Lydic, just mumble Louisville through a mouthful of bourbon and you’re halfway there. “Say it like you’ve had a couple,” she laughs. “Don’t overthink it.” Pro tip: she’s from here. She can spot the try-hards.
And if you’ve ever doubted whether humiliating yourself might be a valid career path, Lydic is living, comedic proof. She spent her Kentucky teen years toggling between acting summer camps and a failed stint on Eastern High School’s dance team. “If you’re an alternate, you can dance at the games but they won’t let you anywhere near the competitions,” she deadpans. “So if that gives you any indication of how talented I was…”
The improv bug bit later. “I didn’t know improv was what I was supposed to do,” she says. “I just wanted to be an actor. But it was like a muscle. You have to be comfortable being bad at it for a while. I hated that part.” She credits the Groundlings, a little time at Improv Olympic, and a healthy obsession with Molly Shannon and Carol Burnett for helping her lean into the art of face-planting on stage—repeatedly. “My dad showed me The Carol Burnett Show, and I just sat there in awe. She was in front of the scenes, behind the scenes—she commanded it all.”
When The Daily Show called—three separate times over eight years, no less—Lydic had basically given up on landing it. “I thought, ‘If they wanted me, they would’ve told me by now.’” But after a third tape—and one big “oh by the way, I’m four months pregnant”—she finally got her desk chair. “Without even batting an eye, our showrunner was like, ‘Congratulations. That’s amazing. We’ve done it before. We’ll do it again.’ I knew this was where I wanted to be.”
And now she’s part of the rotating cast who keep the seat warm for Jon Stewart’s Monday drop-ins. “When you find a place that’s good, you hang on,” she says. “And I think more places are like that now, but it wasn’t always the case.”
So how does it feel being in the front row for America’s political clown car? Lydic’s not blind to the fatigue, but she sees the silver lining in the satire. “Comedy can be a unifier. It opens up a conversation that wouldn’t happen otherwise. Especially if you’re from Kentucky and you’ve got conservative family members. I’ve had to have all those conversations.”
And if you catch her hosting one of the upcoming episodes during Indecision 2024, just remember—this is a woman who built a career on broadcasting her worst self. “If you’re not humiliating yourself, you’re probably not doing it right,” she says, half-joking but not really.
Good news for all of us: the more humiliating, the funnier. Kentucky accents optional.
Watch the interview above and then check out the video below.
