Even though Luenell is of the ‘Comic View’ and ‘Def Comedy Jam’ era, you will respect her

Her fingernails are longer than most, sure to be blinged out. Her hair is cut short, almost bald, of a glistening, graying blond. Her personality is loud, bold and, when necessary, brash.

Luenell undoubtedly commands attention.

It’s why, at age 58, she’s still touring the world as a stand-up and has a career that spans television, film, theater and the music industry. Trust, she has lived and has the shoot-from-the-hip, expletive-laden wisdom to show for it.

How did you get into comedy?

Everything for me has been a fluke. I had already done stage, vocals and film and TV before I left the Bay area... But when I came to Los Angeles, I became roommates with a girl who was a call girl. One of her clients was a comedian who I will not name. They started dating and he’d be at the house often and I’d be talking trash. He ran a comedy club in Long Beach and told me to come to his club if I ever want to do stand-up. But I said I didn’t want to do stand-up. I wanted to sing backup for Luther Vandross. [laughs]

But I’m assuming you went?

One night, we were making margaritas and decided to see if the guy was sincere. We went to the club, I was put up next, told this crazy story and it went over great. I got offstage and this guy came up to me and said I was funny and that I should come to his club. He gave me his card and wrote his address on the back. I still have that card. That was the late, great Robin Harris. I feel like he anointed me. And if that’s the first person who comes to you after you step off the stage, that means something.

How would you describe your comedy style?

I’m not a joke teller. I’m a storyteller, like [Bill] Cosby. I’ve never been one to write things out. I just do bullet points and talk because I have the gift, and it is a gift, of gab. Plus, I have an English degree too. I could teach if I wanted to, just because I use the word … all the time, don’t get it twisted. You’d rather me curse you out than write a letter.

Why do you believe it’s difficult for black women to become comedic superstars?

Well, it’s difficult for black women to become superstars in every genre of work. It would be difficult for black women to become superstars here at the L.A. Times. It’s difficult for black women in the corporate world. It just is difficult for black women because we are oppressed because all the powers that be are 99% male. There’s that old boys club and then the new boys club — gay — and they're all mostly white. We don’t have black female comedy club owners. There are very few black female comedy bookers, producers, directors — it's all rare.

Black females are an afterthought in comedy, in everything. Walk down the street right now and get 10 people. Ask them to name the top 10 comics of all time and they'll name 10 men. We’re an afterthought. We’re the, “Oh, yeah!”

With social media, there appears to be a new crop of comedians coming up.

I have a problem with millennials, because I think they’re the first generation of black children who don't have any respect. The new kids coming off of these Instagrams and Twitters and YouTubes... they think of this like a dope deal. They just want to get paid. They don't have any respect for the game or us. They talk about us and treat us bad and call us old. They don’t know our background, they weren't around for “Comic View” or “Def Comedy Jam.” They don’t respect the people that paved the way.

When I’m around Paul Mooney or Dick Gregory or George Wallace or [Jerry] Seinfeld, I bow down. I sit back and listen. These kids are very disrespectful and make me want to fight. Don’t let these nails fool you. I be wanting to slap the …. out of some of these millennials. And you may quote me!

What was the best piece of advice you ever got?

Laura Hayes, one of the queens of comedy, gave me the best advice that I could ever get. It was, “Shut up and listen.”

What advice do you have for those coming behind you?

There's a thing called an it-factor that you can’t make yourself. God gives you that. If you don't have that, the best thing you can do is study. Don’t just jump in the pool. Learn how to swim first. Take some lessons. Don’t try to get onstage every time you go to a club. Sit back and watch ...and [survey] the room. Don’t just walk in there thinking you're the baddest … in the land, grab a microphone and start cursing and saying [the N-word] and thinking that’s what comedy is.

What are your hopes for the rest of your career?

I’ve looked and observed and I know I don’t need the mega stardom of a Kevin Hart. I might have wanted that when I was younger, but I don’t need that because Biggie said it: “Mo’ money, mo’ problems…”

But I do want to be wealthy enough to have a comfortable, beautiful home where I want it. I want my daughter to never have to want for anything. I want to start a charity for women and kids. I want to be able to develop talent because I know the bite I’m looking for. And a couple of boys in and out of the picture would be nice... you know, the regular American dream.

Get your life! Follow me on Twitter (@TrevellAnderson) or email me: trevell.anderson@latimes.com.