No Stone unturned

The telephone rang several times before an answering machine clicked on.

Suddenly, a young child's recorded voice repeated the number the caller had dialed and said there was no one there to answer the phone at the moment.

Actually there was: Comedian Paula Poundstone was talking to someone else on the phone at her Los Angeles home and could not answer the incoming call.

Poundstone is busy these days, perhaps busier than she's ever been during her career that has spanned two decades.

The 42-year-old entertainer has become a juggler -- juggling calls, answering questions, trying to put her life back together at the same time she tries to resurrect a career that crashed last summer when she was accused of sexually molesting one of her two foster children. Whether her career can be salvaged has yet to be determined.

Poundstone was arrested and charged with several counts of child abuse involving her adopted and foster children. The most serious charge -- lewd acts upon a child -- was dropped when she pleaded no contest to lesser charges, including one count of felony child endangerment, which involved drinking and driving.

The court records are sealed, and therefore details of the case are vague.

In October Poundstone was sentenced to 180 days in a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center, and five years of probation. She must perform 200 hours of community service and attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and a child-abuse prevention program. She also must submit to random drug and alcohol tests.

Poundstone, who has cared for eight foster children over the years, has had her two foster children taken from her and is barred from again becoming a foster parent. Her three adopted children -- two girls and a boy -- are not allowed to live with her, but she sees them often in monitored visits.

The comedian, who performs Friday at Sunset Station, spoke candidly with the Sun about her recent problems, often employing humor while answering difficult questions:

Las Vegas Sun: Let's start with the big question. Did you sexually abuse your foster child?

Paula Poundstone: No.

Sun: Can you discuss the specifics of the allegations?

PP: No. The records are sealed.

Sun: What were your reactions when the charges were filed?

PP: It had a surreal flavor to it -- still does, you know.

I don't get up in the morning and say, "What a lucky individual I am." Hopefully I've had a lot of prevailing winds go my way lately. If it was somebody else's life it might be interesting, at a certain point, to watch what happens with the system.

It's sort of funny. Having been a foster parent for eight years, I used to be a good guy and now I'm a bad guy. It's been somewhat educational, but I would be just as a happy to go to the library.

Sun: How often do you see your children now?

PP: I have to pay to have a district attorney-approved monitor to be with me and my children. The kids don't sleep here at night. What I do is, I'm in the car by 6:30 in the morning and I drive to the foster home where they stay. I get them up, get them ready for school, take them to school, all the time accompanied by a monitor. Then I pick them up at 2:45, take them to their appointments, do the homework, do what every every parent does.

At night at bedtime, I put them to bed and drive back to my house. Then I start over the next day. Ironically, we're together more than we ever were before.

Sun: How do you do that and also try to rebuild your career?

PP: It's not an easy trick. I'm frankly not certain if I can do it. The courts aren't much interested in me keeping my house, my job, my children. Frankly, I'm not sure what the goals are.

Sun: What are some of the hurdles?

PP: I'm supposed to see four therapists, which is very costly and very time-consuming. I have to do 200 hours of community service -- but they did say I could start it in a year ... I didn't realize this before, but when you're a criminal you pay to use the courts, you pay for probation, you pay to sign up for community service.

I can't figure it out. I'm not saying none of it should happen, I just don't know how to do it. I'm a big, giant, horrible person now, but I can't figure out how to do it without messing up -- I don't mean by going on a bender, I mean dropping the ball and not completing what I'm supposed to complete. I'm desperately trying to assemble this puzzle with the money and the time.

Sun: Will you ever be able to get your children back?

PP: Probably. Do the courts want it? Probably not.

I'm on probation for five years, but I was told I would get them back in a year. That started in November, so at this point there are 37 more weeks until they are where they belong. We are together a lot, but it's not the same.

Sun: Are you frustrated?

PP: It's really, really frustrating. The worst part of the whole thing is there's nobody to blame but myself. It really takes the joy out of placing the blame.

Sun: How long have you had a drinking problem?

PP: I don't think the period I was drinking was really that long. There were nights throughout my life I would like to erase, that I drank too much and did stupid things. But on the other hand, I don't think the kids will ever tell a story about growing up in an alcoholic household. It was really probably just a couple of months when I was not myself.

Sun: Describe the impact the charges have had on your career.

PP: It's been interesting. I've done a handful of jobs, one in Santa Cruz (Calif.), one in Anaheim (Calif.), one in San Francisco, all three of which went terrific. My biggest concern was that I was gonna forget my routine.

I wasn't really afraid of the audience. I didn't think they would come and pay whatever the ticket was to come and chastise me, or to sit angrily in their seats and share their feelings about how I'm the scum of the earth.

Sun: How much of your show deals with the issues you are facing?

PP: I'm not sure exactly. A fraction. My show has a lot to do with people in front of me. It's autobiographical. I'm a parent, a voter, a news watcher. All those things are part of what my act comes from. Now I'm a felon, so a little bit comes from that.

Sun: How did the first audience first react to you when you started your comeback?

PP: There was a pregnant pause, an "Oh, what's going to happen?" kind of thing. But you know, this big, horrible, bad thing happened in my life. It didn't happen to everybody else. It's not like they are reliving their bad experience.

Sun: Have you encountered any anger, any hatred?

PP: I think I've probably been shielded from that.

Sun: Did you ever think about quitting the business and going to work for Wal-Mart or something?

PP: Yes. Yes. I thought about it a lot. That wouldn't be my first choice. I really love my job, it's a blast. So far there's no indication that it will be necessary to change jobs. If I did something else ... I think I would buy a Laundromat. I have obsessive- compulsive disorder, so I have a feeling my fluff and fold would be legendary.

Sun: Have your personal problems put a limit on what you can do with your career?

PP: Probably not. There was a limit to what I could do with my career to begin with. I remember when I stepped out of jail, they let me out of a little, stupid holding cell. Somebody says to me, "There's press outside." What was I going to do, burrow under the jail? I have to leave, you know. I still would rather be home ... I'm standing there looking at people, not viewing myself as a felon -- I still saw myself as Paula Poundstone, just a standup comic who has been around for years.

I don't think I saw the press as the enemy. But as I'm standing there, looking at them, I think to myself, "Hey, I've done some really good shows in my day, and I don't remember this big of a crowd outside any of them."

Suddenly, this story got told that one of the country's best comedians had this fall from grace. I don't remember anybody describing me that way when I was out there performing. So I started to pine for this past that I never had. It is a sad story when it's told that way, otherwise it's just another schmuck who made a stupid mistake. In order to make a more exciting story, they made it look like I had a bigger career than I had. I've had a lovely career. I love my job. It's been wonderful. My guess would be that I can reach those mediocre heights again.

But I just want to be able to support my family. I hold a hope that I can keep my house, but it's a crapshoot, I don't know. I want to return to the mostly up-and-up life I had before this happened. I think it's doable.

There's going to be some scars here forever -- it's the kind of thing that changes a person's life forever. But it doesn't really change the audience member's life. They have their own problems. I've had a lovely career. I love my job. It's been wonderful. My guess would be that I can reach those mediocre heights again."

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