Every time I’m asked who my comedy hero is, so many names tumble through my mind. There are a lot of American comedians that I especially admire, from Jerry Seinfeld to Rodney Dangerfield, from Richard Pryor to Joan Rivers. I often think that American is the mother-tongue of stand-up. The accent (in most of its manifestations anyway) seems especially suited to the rhythms and intonations of spoken comedy. It’s almost like an unfair advantage, one that on this side of the Atlantic is enjoyed to a great degree by all Irish and Scottish comics. I’ll name-drop only Billy Connolly and Dave Allen and let you come up with your own examples of brilliant comics who follow that rich tradition of mad, brogue-lilted storytelling. I’m way too ungenerous to plug the likes of Kevin Bridges and Jason Byrne in a piece which is, after all, supposed to be about me.

But then again, when it comes to comedy heroes, I find myself unable to speak of such matters without saluting the casts of Dad’s Army, Hancock’s Half Hour, The Likely Lads, Steptoe And Son and, of course, Monty Python’s Flying Circus. Away from the world of sitcoms, do I even need to mention Tommy Cooper? Stupid jokes and an even stupider physical presence from a natural clown who had his audience laughing before he even walked on stage. Add to this the genius of Morecambe And Wise and I’d have to reflect on how formative these three particular comedians were for me. 

When I was a kid, anyone I encountered who wore a suit was serious, in charge, to be obeyed, perhaps even feared. The suit was a symbol of authority and power. So to see it subverted by all the daftest men on television had quite the effect on me. It felt like a reassurance that life doesn’t need to be approached with so much caution; that grown-ups can be childlike and that making an idiot of yourself need not be such a bad thing. Eventually this informed my own comic style; adopting the suit, not just as a thing to wear, but as an integral part of my act, as a comic device, a way of amplifying the comedy in taking yourself too seriously. It is a deliberate choice and I’ll always be grateful to those comedians who showed me that.

Jack Dee: Small World is on tour from Saturday 10 May to Monday 3 November.