LOS ANGELES – Jimmy Kimmel looked beat. He had just wrapped up an episode of his late-night talk show — mixing it up with actor Chris Hemworth, a montage of President Donald Trump sound bites, Elvis Costello singing "Alison" — followed by a video shoot for the cover story of this month's GQ magazine.
The obligations didn't stop there, of course. As he loosened his tie on his office couch last month, sitting below a comically large portrait of himself and Howard Stern, Kimmel mentioned that he had just met the night before with his writing team for the 2018 Academy Awards, which he will host Sunday for the second year.
He also had signed up to make an unannounced cameo on the wildly popular game-show app HQ Trivia the next day, but promised his wife he'd be home for dinner to spend time with his 3-year-old daughter Jane, who spent the previous evening throwing up, and 9-month-old son Billy, who almost died from a congenital heart defect shortly after his birth.
Kimmel's emotional narration of Billy's ordeal and his heart-on-a-sleeve commentary on the day's events have struck a deep chord in the past year. While his late-night peers Jimmy Fallon and Stephen Colbert have lost viewers in the key 18-49 age group, ABC's "Jimmy Kimmel Live" has enjoyed a 4 percent bump in that demographic and is catching up with Fallon in the overall ratings, an almost unthinkable scenario a year ago. Time magazine even considered him for its annual Person of the Year honors.
A week after our interview, I shot Kimmel an e-mail, telling him how exhausted he seemed during our hour together.
He responded within five minutes: "I only look tired because I am tired."
I met Kimmel in 2000 while he was the needling sidekick on "Win Ben Stein's Money" and kept in touch as he parlayed his image as an amiable frat guy into "The Man Show," a Comedy Central spoof of male behavior that included models bouncing on trampolines, and "Crank Yankers," in which puppets made juvenile prank phone calls.
But over the course of many visits, I got to see a savvier, more sensitive side to the comedian. About a decade ago, Kimmel surprised a group of high school students I was teaching in Los Angeles, popping by for a Q&A session in which he pressed the importance of working harder than the colleague in the next cubicle, digging deeper and being passionate about your beliefs.