Liverpool-born comedian Ken Dodd has been performing stand-up comedy for over 60 years. Known for his dishevelled hair and instinctive one-liners, Dodd has carved a niche for himself in recent years with his five-hour gigs that resemble endurance tests. He has made many television appearances, most frequently on BBC comedy programme The Good Old Days, and scored a UK number one hit with his song Tears. Now 88 years old, Dodd talks to EDWIN GILSON about happiness, tickling sticks, and why retirement has never crossed his mind.

Hi Ken, how are you?

I’m good thanks, for a hard-working comedian. How are you? Lord Edwin, that’s a very posh name. How long have you been a journalist, all day?

Are you looking forward to coming to Eastbourne and Worthing?

Yes, we’ve heard you’ve had some good weather down there recently so we’re coming down. I’ve been playing Eastbourne and Worthing for what must be 60 years. I remember the first times I played there – for a Northerner, I didn’t know how the posh people down south would take me, but they were marvellous! It will be wonderful to be back there. It’s wonderful to be anywhere at my age. There are some beautiful places in Britain, with all different senses of humour. I call it a giggle map – when I first started in comedy I kept a notebook of how each joke was received in different places around the country. I tell journalists, who seem quite tickled by the idea, that I have a giggle map of Great Britain.

Can we expect a trademark marathon show, with the clock ticking past the five-hour mark?

I do not do long shows, I just do good value! To me, slaving over a hot audience is the most wonderful feeling you can possibly have. It’s like a party. You don’t want to be a party pooper and go home early. While the audience is laughing and enjoying themselves, I’ll keep doing it. It’s what I do. They are like a big jolly family to me.

How much of these mammoth sets is improvised and how much pre-planned?

With a show it’s always 50 percent material and 50 percent delivery. As Frank Carson used to say, it’s how I tell ‘em. I work at a rate of 70tm – 70 titters a minute. I’ve never done the same show twice in 60 years. You play an audience like you play an instrument – your instinct tells you where the hotspots are, when the audience needs a bit of coaxing, and when you can flirt with the ladies.

Have you been seeing younger fans at your shows?

Yes, they come for all sorts of reasons. Some because they’ve heard about it, some because their dad has told them about me, some with their sweethearts. Some women bring their young men along to see if he is husband material – to check if he has a good sense of humour.

This current show is called Happiness. Is it easier to be a funny curmudgeon than a happy comedian?

Now we’re coming round to a marvellous, fertile area of conversation. Very often a journalist will say to me: Ken Dodd, has humour changed in the last 50 or 60 years? I have to tell you, no. We still laugh at the same things. Laughter is like a rainbow. Right at the very top there is white laughter, of pure joy, the kind you see from little kids jumping around in a playground from the sheer happiness of being alive. Yellow laughter is the laughter of clowns, red the laughter of romance, and right at the bottom of the rainbow is the language of sarcasm and cynicism – all the dark colours. I don’t go there, not for an audience who have come to enjoy themselves. People don’t go to a theatre to be miserable, people go to a theatre to feel good and exercise their chuckle muscles. Eastbourne and Worthing have wonderful chuckle muscles, so it’s just about finding what they’re interested in and making them laugh. Life is bloody wonderful – every day is a good day.

You took exception to the word ‘eccentric’ in a 2013 interview – what is your grievance with that term exactly?

I don’t mind being eccentric, no! When I started in show business, I was talking to myself with a ventriloquist. I was about 12 years old. By watching variety shows, I noticed that the comedian was always the engine driver. So I wanted to be a comedian. When I was 14, I went down to a little printer in the centre of Liverpool and said I want some cards printed. I told him to put: ‘Ken Dodd, the comedian who is...’ and then I told him to put the word ‘different’ upside down. He said he couldn’t do it because people would think he was a terrible printer. He said he would have to put it through the machine twice, and I said, ‘ok then, do that.’ One of the main things comedians have to do is look at the world in a different way – or, in a posh term, perceiving incongruity. It’s about seeing the world sideways on, upside down.

You admitted to being very nervous before your earliest gigs – do those nerves persist now?

Have you ever seen racehorses in the stalls before they race? That’s what it’s like before you go on stage. You go in front of a big audience like Eastbourne and you know you’ve got 30 seconds in which to establish yourself, to let them know you are a comedian and make friends with them. I call it building a bridge, letting the audience know that you are a jolly jester. Over 60 years you learn to build that bridge! You learn never to give up.

What are your tried and trusted techniques for building that bridge?

When you go on stage you do a few hello jokes – ‘Hello Eastbourne’ – and then you go on to tell some jokes about the most important things in people’s lives; themselves. I might then say something like, ‘I’m looking out at the crowed here and can see 50 shades of beige.’ Then I get on to topical jokes: about politics, the referendum, the price of everything, the price of kippers in Worthing. Then you move on to crazier material, like men’s legs. Men’s legs get very lonely, you know, standing on their own in the dark all day. The techniques evolve, though – it is Darwin’s theory of tickleology.

Can you imagine a time when you might stop doing this?

Ah! There are three or four questions a journalist will always ask me. One is: Ken Dodd, when are you going to retire? I say never. While I can do it, I will do it. I’m not going to hang up my tickling stick. If you come to the show, I’ll give you your very own tickling stick. I always bring a few hundred around on tour with me. You can put it in your office.

Ken Dodd: Happiness

Pavilion Theatre, Marine Parade, Worthing, Saturday, August 6

Congress Theatre, Carlisle Road, Eastbourne, Sunday, August 7

Starts 7pm at both venues, Pavilion Theatre SOLD OUT. Congress Theatre, £22, 01323 412000