Debating major issues with other U.S. senators may have been an adjustment for Sen. Al Franken, but it can’t be much tougher than writing for John Belushi or chasing one of The Beatles out of your office.

That’s what Franken, who was elected to a second term representing Minnesota on Nov. 4, told me in 2004 when I spent several hours with him in Mankato, Minn. Franken was pondering a race for the Senate then and was touring his adopted home state to test the waters.

He made a fiery speech to a group of Democrats. I covered that and then he decided to go door-to-door. I tagged along, as much out of political curiosity as a desire to talk with him about “Saturday Night Live.”

Although he’s served six years in the Senate, written best-selling books expressing his liberal views and hosted a radio show on Air America, Franken may still be best known as a comedian and comic writer.

Most people would have been satisfied with the show business career he created for himself, but Franken wanted more. A former high school wrestler who loves to compete and a cum laude graduate of Harvard, Franken blends a competitive fire with intellectual ability and a quick wit.

Franken was a writer and occasional performer for “SNL” from the day it launched in Oct. 11, 1975. That was my senior year in high school and I was as interested in comedy as I was in politics.

Franken’s unique career has combined those two interests and the line between them has often blurred. While humor was how he became known, it was obvious from the start he had a deep interest in politics.

Even in those early days of “SNL,” many of his sketches had political overtones, and his pals called him “Senator Franken.” They thought they were kidding.

Franken received a measure of fame for his work with Tom Davis, a fellow Minnesotan and his writing and performing partner for almost 20 years. Franken also garnered praise and laughs for his proclamation that since the 1970s were the so-called “Me Decade,” the 1980s should be the “Al Franken Decade.”

Davis struggled with alcohol and drugs while Franken left them behind by the 1980s. Their partnership and friendship were severed, although they were back on friendly terms before Davis died in 2012.

On “SNL” and in a flop of a movie, Franken was “Stuart Smalley,” the insecure guy who told himself — and celebrities like Michael Jordan — that he was good enough, smart enough, and doggone it, people liked him.

I can’t speak for Stuart, but Franken was easy to like that cold day in Mankato.

While I attended a pair of garage sales with Franken — yes, covering politics is all glamour — he stopped to tell me and a campaign volunteer a few “SNL” stories. One was about a buzzed George Harrison hanging out at the SNL offices late one night in 1991, playing piano and singing for thrilled writers and cast members.

But Franken, by then a co-producer, needed sketches completed and had to find a way to chase one of his heroes away.

Franken said he slammed his office door loudly. The writers got the message and went back to work while Harrison beat a quick retreat.

Franken said he hated to do it but there was work to be done.

Despite his background, he’s been an all-business senator and is recognized for his intelligence and dedication. Politics, like humor, is serious business to Franken.