The Rolling Stone Interview: David Letterman

Here is Letterman, tortured king, fully ascended. Here he is, running Comedy. Like Carson before him, he stands alone, above the fray, whatever side of midnight. Unlike Carson, he can do nothing about his hair. Nevertheless, he has become television's most powerful fellow, paid an epic sum to mock convention and intimidate weasels. "I'm six two, I weigh 170, I have the strength of ten men!" he will boast, and woe to those who would challenge him. Even on his driver's-license photo, he glowers. "I could take Clint Eastwood, don't you think?" he says, champing cigar and looming large. He is forty-five, shy, dark, decent, obsessed. He is a caged storm. During commercial breaks on his program, he stalks the set, full of fret and fury. He suffers no fool gladly, and because he is our Greatest Fool, he suffers always.

Here is Dave, true broadcaster, unbound. He entered this, the Year of Dave, asleep on Barbados, in denial. Back in New York, he is now bearded and beset. He presides at the seat of Worldwide Pants, as he calls his television empire —itself the spoils over which a historic battle between two networks is being waged. When the smoke clears, NBC, having employed Dave for eleven years as host of Late Night With David Letterman, will lose him to CBS, which promises him an 11:30 time slot and a $14 million-a-year salary. The Carson throne — The Tonight Show and its coveted time slot — will remain in Jay Leno's possession. Blood will spill, men will weep, and lives will change forever. "None of it could be more silly," Dave is saying, pensively, fielding all bulletins from the front. Rose, his faithful assistant (played by dancer Laurie Diamond), reports, "They're looking for a picture of you hosting your show for Business Week." Dave: "I don't do a show for Business Week." Rose: "I tried to explain that." Dave: "Well, maybe I do. Check the assignment board." It is during this uncertain time that he cheerfully submits to the long and merciless debriefing that follows.

How are you sleeping at night during these heady times?
By and large, I sleep fitfully. And when I wake up, the sheets are drenched in perspiration. But the experts believe it's just a lack of amino acids. So we're trying to correct that with the cigars.

Has all the pressure driven you back to smoking?
For Christmas, somebody gave me a perfectly humidored twenty-five-year-old cigar, and it was so pleasant, I just thought, well, I'll try these again for a bit.