Joe Gatto doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m a Kentucky Colonel,” he deadpans. “They gave me a certificate and everything. I think it means I can jaywalk and litter now.”
In reality, he was handed the honorary title while on tour with the Impractical Jokers a few years ago—but it’s a fitting metaphor for a guy who’s somehow managed to turn chaos into credibility. Post-Jokers, Gatto’s pivoted to podcasting, stand-up, children’s books, and fostering enough senior dogs to start his own retirement community.
His current tour, A Night of Comedy, doesn’t come with any cryptic branding or ambiguous titles. “I didn’t want people wondering what they were walking into,” Gatto says. “It’s an hour of laughing. That’s the goal.” That, and a few life stories. “I talk about my kids, my mom, my dogs, growing up Italian on Staten Island—everything. If you knew me from Jokers, you didn’t know a character. You knew me. This is just more of that.”
Gatto’s transition from ensemble TV chaos to solo storytelling wasn’t a foregone conclusion. “I’d never performed on stage alone,” he says. “Never. I’ve always been part of a group. But I had bills to pay and stories to tell, so I gave it a shot.” His first stand-up show was 40 minutes in Appleton, Wisconsin. “I thought, let’s see if it works. And it worked.”
Helping him along the way were comics Steve Byrne and Jiggy—“veterans I trust”—and that trust paid off. The comedy clubs quickly turned into theaters, and the audiences followed. “I didn’t realize how much I’d enjoy it,” he admits. “Or how much I needed it.”
That collaborative instinct is alive and well in Two Cool Moms, his podcast with Byrne, which started off loosely but found its emotional center in giving advice. “We talk about anything—parenting, pop culture, cereal—but we always end up helping people. That part came naturally because our moms were both amazing.” Questions range from light to deep (“How do I make friends as an adult?” is a surprisingly common one), and Gatto doesn’t dodge any of it. “We’re not afraid to be vulnerable. Or stupid. Or both.”
And while Impractical Jokers may be in the rearview, Gatto isn’t pretending it didn’t happen. “That’s my legacy,” he says. “Nine and a half seasons with my best friends. My fingerprints are all over it. But now? We’re still best friends—we’re just not co-workers anymore.”
Dinner Party, a pandemic-born show he calls “our best thing ever,” reminded him why he got into comedy in the first place: “We just made each other laugh. Q went full Halloween. It was ridiculous. It was perfect.”
These days, Gatto’s just as likely to be caught chasing down guinea pigs as he is punchlines. “We’ve got official nonprofit status now—Gatto Pups and Friends. Just did our 57th adoption.” He’s also got a children’s book coming out next year (Where’s Berry?), based on his son losing a stuffed animal. “Penguin’s putting it out. I just signed off on the cover. It looks awesome.”
He doesn’t take any of it for granted. “I worked 18 years before I was an overnight success,” he says. “Some people blow up at 23. I got on TV at 34. But I wouldn’t have been ready before then.”
And now? “Now I’m doing everything I ever wanted to do. I’m proud of my time on Jokers. I’m proud of what I’m doing now. And I’m proud of that colonel certificate.”
