
“I really love San Antonio,” Kathleen Madigan told the Current within a minute of our phone call. “If it wasn’t so, so, so, so, so hot.”
Those of us enduring endless days of 100-plus-degree heat might be suspicious of her restraint to avoid an expletive, but Madigan’s relationship with Texas and San Antonio in particular runs deep. She frequently headlined the long-gone Rivercenter Comedy Club before graduating to theater stages.
Madigan, who performs this Friday at the Charline McCombs Empire Theatre, told the Current she considers herself a “history freak” who makes a pilgrimage to the Alamo every visit. On her most recent trip, she found herself stopped cold inside the new visitor center next to a massive portrait of an unexpected donor: Phil Collins.
“Why is a British guy hoarding Alamo stuff?” she asked before falling down a rabbit hole and discovering the Genesis drummer grew up obsessed with Davy Crockett.
That’s the kind of detail that frequently comes up in her long-running podcast, Madigan’s Pubcast, a vehicle that allows her to explore her curiosity for snacks, history, pop culture and the Midwest’s favorite obsession — sports.
Mexican food is the other constant. Madigan, who lives in Nashville, told the Current that good Tex-Mex is nearly impossible to find there. So, a San Antonio stop — followed by one in Austin — on her Flying Cats & Marching Armadillos tourmeans a queso-filled weekend of eating her way through Central Texas.
Nearly 40 years into stand-up, Kathleen Madigan still tours. A lot. Some years, she’s onstage 250 nights. That kind of schedule requires a work ethic for joke-writing that pairs perfectly with her natural, relaxed delivery.
Longtime fans, affectionately known as “termites,” know she doesn’t need crowd work, forced wackiness or pursuit of an algorithm to succeed. In an industry that’s gotten increasingly bro-ified, watching a woman who’s never lost a step do exactly what she does best feels almost radical.
If you’re curious, Madigan shared with the Current the history of the “termites” nickname tracing back to a running bit with her friend Ron White, whom she calls “Mr. Texas.” He used to sign off after their hangouts with a gravelly “night, night, termite.” Madigan liked it enough to keep it.
Last December, Madigan’s latest comedy special, The Family Thread (2025), made the New York Times’ list of five specials to get you through the holidays — a fitting nod for a comic whose 2023 special, Hunting Bigfoot, won Interrobang’s Comedy Special of the Year.
Her road to stand-up began with open mics in her native St. Louis, nudged along by her father. She never stopped. Her impressive list of credits includes appearances on Leno, Letterman, Conan and Last Comic Standing along witha stint writing for Garry Shandling’s Emmy-hosting gigs. If you dig deep, she even held down a seat on Hollywood Squares between Ed McMahon and Alf.
Madigan’s Last Comic Standing run in the 2000s says a lot about how her peers see her. After reaching Season 2’s semifinals, she returned for a best-of Season 3 and held the distinction as the only comic in the show’s history that no other contestant dared challenge to a head-to-head face-off. Nobody wanted to bet they were funnier.
That kind of respect tracks with her approach to the business of being funny. Rather than treat standup as a launchpad to chase Hollywood fame, Madigan has built her career on keeping things simple by writing, touring and recording on repeat.
She’s happy to stay in her own lane because she dominates the lane and fans are happy to ride along.
Another charming quality is what Madigan won’t do: gouge her audience. Madigan keeps her ticket prices reasonably low, so a night out doesn’t turn into a $300 gamble.
“I don’t want it to be a thought, really,” she told the Current. “Just sort of like, OK, we’ll do it.”
Will you see flying cats or marching armadillos at Madigan’s show? Maybe not, but you’ll see a comic 40 years into a road-tested career who writes relatable and laser-sharp observational comedy.
“I view my act like that movie Arthur. You don’t really remember everything, but you just forgot about everything for an hour and a half and laugh,” she said.
$37-$167, 8 p.m. Friday, Sept. 11, Charline McCombs Empire Theatre, 226 N. St. Mary’s St., (210) 226-5700, www.empiretheater.com.
