When you see a stand-up comedian performing on Comedy Central or Showtime, the first question that comes to mind probably isn’t “I wonder if he lives in my neighborhood?”

But for two years, nationally known comic David Crowe has dwelt among us in an Old Town fixer that he hasn’t had much time to fix.

“I’ve been living in this house without running water, or heat,” he said.

He has been focused on an effort to film and market a one-man, stand-up comedy special “Crooked Finger.” The payoff comes this month, when the program airs 14 times on Showtime.

Crowe grew up in the Seattle area and spent happy summers exploring coastal islands with his family. He always wanted to work on a historic house in a seaport, so Anacortes was perfect.

“I’ve come up here my whole life and my parents live in the San Juans,” he said.

A creative problem solver, Crowe hasn’t let a lack of indoor plumbing stop him. He struck a bargain with a neighbor, exchanging dog walking services for bathroom privileges. People wouldn’t glance twice at this ordinary guy with the large, friendly dog.

He may not be a household name, but he was big enough to open for President Bill Clinton in 1996 at the Paramount in Seattle. He appears on network and cable television and performs at clubs and events. For 15 years he has produced and performed at the popular annual Laugh Lovers Ball, which sells out every Valentine’s Day in Seattle.

No stranger to putting on his own show, he produced “Crooked Finger,” which was filmed at the Triple Door in Seattle. He recorded more than two hours of material over two nights and edited it down to the best 50 minutes, then his agent shopped it around Hollywood.

“It took two years,” he said.

He loved seeing the TV listings when the show debuted. Below “David Crowe: Crooked Finger” was a show starring his friend Doug Stanhope. Two slots above him was a cheesy production of “Planet of the Apes.”

“It also kind of puts it in perspective,” he said.

He’s working to make sure the special succeeds.

“I got up every day last week at 4:30 in the morning and did a radio interview every 15 minutes until noon and a few more in the afternoons,” he said.

He was given a schedule and a list of radio station phone numbers. Each day he hit every market in the country during morning drive time, from coast to coast.

“There’s a system there and you just get plugged in,” he said.

The DVD, which includes the special and an additional 25 minutes of topical routines, will be released Feb. 3. It can be pre-ordered at Amazon.com and will be sold at outlets such as Blockbuster, he said.

A Showtime special is a big break, an opportunity to gain older viewers. Crowe said “Crooked Finger’s” debut on Dec. 4 was viewed by 400,000 people.

Will another special follow soon? That depends how this one performs.

“It comes down to money. No one cares about the jokes,” he said.

A first-generation American, Crowe has a British mother and a Canadian father.

“I can remember our family’s tradition of sitting around telling stories and getting laughs,” Crowe said.

He was 11 when Steve Martin broke out big in 1978.

“My big influence was Steve Martin. ‘Wild and Crazy Guy’ came out and suddenly the U.S. comedy industry was born,” he said.

As a youth, Crowe was not allowed to attend rock concerts because his mother believed they were a bad influence. So, he talked her into letting him see a comedian perform — George Carlin. And yes, Carlin did “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television.”

“She had no idea,” he said, laughing.

Crowe has met some of his idols, including Carlin.

“I got to hang out in his trailer with him,” he said.

He also met Jerry Seinfeld, whom he described as “a rather private, distant person.” Crowe said he understands why some comedians withdraw.

“When everyone expects you to crack a joke, sometimes it’s not fun,” he said.

He also sang “Louie, Louie” with Pearl Jam.

“Eddie Vedder wasn’t there,” he said. “All comics really want to be rock stars.”

Crowe studies guitar with Anacortes teacher Kyle Miller. He was delighted that after only a year of work he wrote a song with a guitar solo — a snotty, Violent Femmes-style piece called “The Customer is Always Right.”

He said learning to perform comedy is much different than learning an instrument.

“You have to have volleys with the audience. It’s not like music, like playing the guitar. With stand-up you can’t practice alone. You have to get up in front of an audience,” he said.

This means facing repeated rejection. “That’s why there’s one stand-up comic to every 1,000 musicians,” he said.

But there’s no doubt when the material hits its target.

“With stand-up the laugh is the verification that you’re communicating the idea,” he said.

Crowe’s work can be intellectual or slapstick, such as when he demonstrates bull-riding techniques or imitates Gollum (“Lord of the Rings”) perched on a stool.

“I’m known by other comics for a very wide range, from cute G-rated stuff all the way to dark, shocking, really cutting-edge, socially relevant material,” he said. “I don’t see a point in funneling.”

He has been compared to Bill Maher, Dana Gould and Patton Oswalt because of the “highbrow comedy with lowbrow delivery.”

“I tend to be kind of animated in my delivery,” he said.

He earned raves at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

“Crowe pirouettes in and out of contentious issues with the sure-footed assurance of a comedy Nureyev,” said the Glasgow Herald.

“He produces a show which manages to blend pratfalls and physical idiocy with acerbic and erudite dissections of politics and religion,” agreed Metro.

As well as television and radio, he has clips of his routines posted on his Web site, Davidcrowe.com, and on YouTube.com.

“You never know who’s going to see you, when or how or where,” he said.

People under 30 are more likely to discover him on the Internet than on Letterman. He said those viewers typically screen video clips to decide whether to change the channel or set the TiVo.

“It’s all changed in two years. The YouTube revolution has affected no industry greater than stand-up,” he said.

Popular low-tech or “gonzo” productions add immediacy to Web postings. He said a big reason Michael Richards’ infamous racist rant drew so much attention was the seedy, voyeuristic quality of the cell phone recording.

“The medium is the message,” he said, quoting Marshall McLuhan.

Crowe’s conversation is peppered with philosophical references. He said comedy is a way to communicate deeper truths.

“I’m a philosopher, but I’m not Greek or dead,” he said. “In order to get people to listen you have to make them laugh.”

The Showtime show contains “evergreen” material that will stay fresh for the five years the channel owns broadcast rights. He said instead of going for laughs over a topical event, such as Mike Tyson biting Evander Holyfield’s ear off, he’ll cite the incident in a discussion of something universal, such as forgiveness.

“I try to write toward the global or elemental truth beneath it,” he said.

Crowe draws on a wealth of life experience. At 20 he lived with a native tribe in the upper Amazon. After returning home 20 pounds lighter, with a hernia, he earned a degree in English literature at the University of Washington. Then he visited 40 countries on five continents while working for Princess Cruises.

He talks about books such as Neil Postman’s “Amusing Ourselves to Death,” which predicted a future, like Aldous Huxley’s grimly Utopian “Brave New World,” where entertainment-addicted people love the products and technology that strip them of the ability to think. Crowe said America was the world’s most literate society for 200 years, but today people are more interested in images.

“Every media does things well and not so well,” he said.

The Internet amuses with quick images and bursts of information, but is not adept at informing the written word.

“But it’s been good for my industry,” he said. “Stand-up has always been about intimacy, so it’s perfect for this Web revolution.”

He applies careful thought to his craft. Laughter is about breaking tension, he said.

“The more tension there is, the harder it is to break — and the more important it is to break,” he said. “If you’re able to break that tension, the laugh is huge.”

The make-up of the audience also is crucial. He joked to a mostly black audience that Barack Obama shares a crucial trait with all previous presidents — a white mother. White people in the audience, like an Anacortes American reporter, shifted in their seats and wondered if that was funny. The African-Americans in the crowd just cracked up. He said there’s inherent tension: Why is it OK for black people to be proud about Obama’s father, but not for white people to be proud about his mother?

In one video, Crowe tells a Hispanic audience a massive tornado may be God’s way of Hoovering up white trash. Then, he wonders why black-pride parades and Hispanic-pride parades are good, while white-pride parades are creepy.

“We’re not allowed to gather and cheer for ourselves. It makes people nervous — including ourselves,” he told the audience, getting a big laugh.

Crowe wants to establish a quarterly comedy club in Anacortes, featuring some of the best comics he knows. It would be a classy nightclub experience, not a stand-up show in a bar.

“It’s all about intimacy and cutting out distractions. It’s not science. It’s not complicated,” he said. “You have to keep it a special event.”

He has quietly had some trial runs.

“We’ve done it a few times at Johnny Picasso’s, just for friends, and sold out,” he said.

He said attendance is crucial. For comedy to really work, the place needs to be full.

“Laughter is contagious,” he said.

David Crowe-isms:

“The only thing more annoying than a smoker is a nonsmoker whining about it… If you don’t smoke, don’t be a whiner. Do what I do. Hang out with them and drink like this.”

He picks up a glass and takes a mouthful, then sprays the liquid into the air around him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my second-hand beverage pissing you off?”

•••

Appalled to admit that he thinks like Gollum, Crowe perches on a tall stool and reveals his inner conflict while ordering at Starbucks:

“We wants the lemon bread, we do. It looks so precious.”

“No, don’t get it! It’ll make us fat.”

“Shut up! I’ll go jogging in the morning. I’ll run off the tricksy bread, I will.”

‘Crooked Finger’ air dates

Showtime:

• 4:30 a.m. Wednesday, Dec. 31

Showtime 2:

• Midnight, Thursday, Dec. 18

• 2:15 a.m. Wednesday, Dec. 24

Showtime 3

• 12:35 a.m. Saturday, Dec. 20

• 1:45 a.m. Tuesday, Dec. 23

• 11 p.m. Friday, Dec. 26

• 2:15 a.m. Monday, Dec. 29

Check out Laugh Lovers Ball

Billed as “the second-best thing to do on Valentine’s Day,” the Laugh Lovers Ball has performances at 4 p.m. and 8 p.m. Saturday, Feb. 14, at the Moore Theatre, 1932 Second Ave., Seattle. Tickets are $30-$50 and can be purchased from Ticketmaster.

Produced by comic and Anacortes resident David Crowe, the event is a fundraiser for Sound Experience and its youth programs aboard the tall ship Adventuress.

This “evening of sophisticated silliness” always sells out, so book early. It presents the classier side of comedy, with some of the best acts in the country performing a variety of comic genres.

Scheduled to appear in 2009 are Drew Hastings, fresh from headlining a one-hour Comedy Central special; Mary Mack, with her unique folky brand of Wisconsin musical comedy; Tim Lee, Ph.D., and his brilliantly crafted “Comedy Off The Charts” PowerPoint presentation; Kent native Jeff Dye, a recent finalist on NBC’s “Last Comic Standing;” and David Crowe, whose “Crooked Finger” special recently aired on Showtime.