Rockstar (visions or viz-ians) Eurostyle Story Telling Podcast #3

This most recent podcast was much more disjointed and significantly longer than any other podcast we’ve ever done. The format and feel are reminiscent of an experimental art rock band’s first show – with a dab more angst. It’s pretty deep. If you don’t like it it’s probably because you can’t appreciate art.

Rockstar Visions #3 is a 3 part experiment with 3 distinct elements: 1) Do’s and Don’t’s of Rockstar (hint: something you shouldn’t do on a plane), 2) Eatin’ Burgers and Talkin’ Bout Life (cousins in Ukraine), 3) The marriage of the married girl Elsa to King Diamond (with exciting sub-story about our brothers and sisters of the animal kingdom, the majestic Giraffe). ~ Enjoy

 

Rockstar Visions Co-host A-Tay swinging - Eurovisions-style.

Rockstar Visions Co-host A-Tay swinging – Eurovisions-style. Photo: ALT

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Rockstar Podcast #2: The Oscars, Poooo-tin (Euromaiden), Olympic Recap

The title of this podcast is a bit misleading as within includes much much more, and a bit less (Alas, no Olympic recap as we didn’t really watch the Olympics). We did discuss the Ukrainian Revolution as well as current events close to home in Seattle. AT offered up some Oscar picks as well.

Please Nnnnnnjoy it. Brought to you buy NJOY the makers of e-cigs (and recipients of $70 million in recent VC funding). Remember to set a good example and only allow them to smoke the finest e-cig on the market, NJOY:

Rockstar Podcast #2 (*updated 3/3/14 – original link was to Rockstar #1)

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Bedtime Stories Illuminate Childhood Aspirations and Crush Parental Ones

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Some of these career choices may be a bit dated (what with cars driving themselves these days and carpentry being outsourced to Sweden/Ikea). Bravo to Richard Scary for not kowtowing to the cultural norm of the day and asking the reader if they want to be a good cook, like their father.

Last night I was reading the great Richard Scary classic, “Best Word Book Ever” or something about words, I can’t remember. It’s really long and there are surprisingly few words in it. When I flipped to the page about professions, I asked the logical question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I may or may not have blocked everything on the page from her line of sight except the doctor/pig and may or may not have lead her a bit with, “…a doctor?” To which she (exasperated) responded, “ewwwwww, no daddy, I’m going to be a Princess when I grow up!”

I followed up with, “Are you sure you don’t want to help people when they’re sick or injured or do something else for work besides be a Princess?” To which she responded dryly, “I don’t want to work when I grow up, it’s boring.”

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Commence Enhanced Sociopathic Behavior Season (or cold season to the uninitiated)

AT is a perfectly nice 3 year old. She hams it up and tries to show love as best as her little sociopathic mind will allow her. This means she commonly mistreats people she loves, but when a new person she is trying to impress is introduced, she frequently says, “I love you, Daddy” and does things that have always resulted in her receiving a great big dose of “awwwwwwww” from the newcomer. This is not unique to her, I believe all 3 year olds are sociopaths.

She really is a sweet and compassionate girl as evidenced by her love and enjoyment of that awful place we like to call the State Fair!

She really is a sweet and compassionate girl as evidenced by her love and enjoyment of that awful place we like to call the State Fair!

I was recently at her school where an expert on early childhood development and behavior was talking about strategies and tactics that employ positive guidance for misbehavior (positive reinforcement). She was saying the underdeveloped frontal lobe was the main culprit for this sociopathic behavior. We all know our brains aren’t fully developed until we are pretty much almost dead, but in very little kids, it’s amazing how little of that lobe has actually grown-in.

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For some reason, it seems to really sting when your child says, “I don’t love you, Daddy”

I think I’m pretty good at not letting what my 3 year old says in the heat of an argument about TV, eggy burritos, or going to bed (our 3 biggest topics of disagreement) really bother me. She will scream, she will throw a torrential downpour of tears and feigned violence upon me, and it’s really stressful and my blood pressure definitely rises, but I am reasonably good at getting her off the ledge without resorting to my own hysterics. That being said, yesterday was the first time she’s ever dropped her trump card, “I DON’T LOVE YOU DADDY!”, and I have to admit, it stung a bit. A lot bit.

Now, I’m as macho as any self-actualized-urban-dad-impersonator (SAUDI) out there, and I was raised not to complain,¹ so I’ve perfected my stoicism in the face of these outbursts. She generally has no idea how upset I am in inside.

Yesterday, however, she was displeased that I was picking her up and not her mother and when I dropped MY usual trump card for everything, “I love you, sweetie²”(seriously, try it on ANYONE in ANY situation, IT WILL WORK), she threw the “I don’t”royal flush response right back in my face. Lame poker references aside, I was floored.

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Father’s Day mea culpa from the world’s best daddy to his own daddy

I’m not going to see my daughter on father’s day this year. I agreed to this (why did I agree to this, again?) because my co-parenting relationship involves concessions, compromise, and trade-offs. Even though our agreement states that the other parent gets the kiddo on their own respective gender-based-hallmark-holiday, my thought at the time  was, we never really cared about Father’s Day with my dad, so why should my own Father’s Day be any different?

Growing up, my family never really emphasized gift-giving, and this spilled into general holiday apathy. Perhaps this started with my tearful acceptance of “the starter robe” (another story for another time) at a particularly unfun-for-everyone Christmas. This doesn’t mean we don’t all relish the opportunity to get together, but the Holiday itself is simply an excuse or vehicle (like eating crab or artichokes is a vehicle for eating mayo).

The infamous "starter robe" incident at Christmas one year seems to have derailed holiday spirit at the Taylor home. Photo courtesy: ChrisMRichards

The infamous “starter robe” incident at Christmas one year  (where I was certain the last gift was that Warriors starter jacket I wanted) seems to have derailed holiday spirit at the Taylor home.   Photo courtesy: ChrisMRichards

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Babies to students

What happens to you when your children leave one phase of life and move on to another? What happens to parents when babies become students? Can’t say that I have thought much about this. After nearly 9 years of being a parent of very small children I have over the last year, become a parent of still small but not as very small children.

From kids to students, the youngest is actually student-driving the car!  THATS WHY ITS SO FUN!

From kids to students, the youngest is actually student-driving the car! THATS WHY ITS SO FUN!

My oldest is in second grade, so this hypothetically could have happened at least two years ago. But for whatever reason it hasn’t hit me until our middle child got half-way through kindergarten. This has its explanations (the learning problems that our second grader has, the move from the Swedish school system to an American international school) yet explanations only take me so far.

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