It’s a different time now. It’s kind of ugly. On “Jay Leno’s Garage,” we did a thing where we had Colin Powell race Joe Biden in Corvettes. The two of them trash-talked each other and made fun of each other, and people just seemed so happy to see a Republican and a Democrat being nice to each other.

Last year, before the election, I was playing in Lancaster, Pa. That’s pretty much Trump territory. I would do a Trump joke, and then a Hillary [Clinton] joke. I deliberately did one and then the other. I did about a dozen of them. After the show, this lady says: “I’m a fan, but I have a bone to pick with you: I notice you didn’t do any Hillary jokes. You only made fun of Donald Trump.” What she would do is, every time I would tell a Trump joke, she would turn to her friend and go, “Ugh, can you believe what he said?” She didn’t even hear the other jokes. It was a classic case of just hearing what you want to hear.

Do you think it’s a more perilous time for comedians who joke about politics?

We live in a time now where what you say is so much worse than what you do — when words carry more consequence than deeds. Like this whole thing with Kathy Griffin. If that had been really funny, it would have been O.K. All judgment goes out the window if something is really funny. But it was just too serious and not funny enough. You didn’t look at that picture and laugh. She stepped out of her arena. Her arena is making fun of show business — nobody takes [show business] that seriously. Then, suddenly, you step into somebody’s political beliefs and oh boy.

When you’ve had the kind of career you’ve had, is it harder to make yourself relatable to a middle-class American audience?

If I get any criticism at all — and I certainly get a lot — it’s that, “Oh, you’re not the angry comedian you once were.” Of course, when you’re 25 and broke, and you’ve got an economy ticket and you got bumped, you’re going to be angrier than if you’re in your private plane. I was in Milwaukee, playing a casino, and I finished at 12:30. I take a car to my hotel in downtown Milwaukee, and I take the service elevator up to my room. The next morning, I go outside, go about five blocks to get a bite to eat, and I now realize, I don’t even know the name of the hotel I’m staying in. That’s a first-world problem. It just made me laugh. How stupid is that?

Do you worry about maintaining your TV legacy when your show doesn’t live on in reruns?

Luckily, you as a performer don’t live on. You die, eventually. If you’re worried about your legacy? Oh, shut up. Nobody cares. I was in Vegas and they were taking down an Elvis Presley exhibit at one of the hotels. I said, “What’s going on?” They said, “We’re taking this down, the kids don’t really know who this is anymore.” If you don’t know who Elvis is, I don’t think my legacy is something you have to worry about.