Warning: The first take of this edition of the Rockstar Podcast had to be removed for extreme language (AT), fits of extreme crying (JT), and because it was terribly boring.
Here in our 2nd take I feel we did a much better job. It certainly isn’t worse. In this episode we tackle the following topics: Coachella and personal Music Tastes and Abilities (Hello Glockenspiel!), Cycling in both the personal (Barbie Bikes) and global sense, and we “start the conversation” on the taboo subject of Heightism that affects us all (or at least those of us over 6’6″ or in the 90th percentile for our age).
— James Taylor (@kungfoolery) April 12, 2015
This Rockstar Podcast 10.1 is dedicated to the Seattle Seahawks — who will compete agains the New England Patriots tomorrow at 3 pm our time, here in Seattle. Tay-Tay is the ultimate 12th man and let’s us all know what it’s like and the emotional toll that it takes on a 4 year-old. She also explains football and life, with plenty of metaphors, cliches, and inspirational jargon (but doesn’t “spike the football” too early) — and tells us a bit about her favorite player, Brussel Wilson (no relation to the brussels sprout fortune). Enjoy and always feel free to leave your comments or requests on our contact us page – someone will respond within 24-36 months, we guarantee that.
Rockstar Podcast 10.1. Discussing Super Bowl with Brussel Wilson. https://t.co/qCBj3MVlhl
— James Taylor (@kungfoolery) January 31, 2015
In this 4th edition of RockStar Podcast we got right into the heart of pop culture: Frozen. It’s a phenomena like cholera: Frozen. AT also discusses a bit of the perception of her classmates at school re: 2 moms, 2 dads. Deep, yet completely surface.
— James Taylor (@kungfoolery) April 26, 2014
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
— James Taylor (@kungfoolery) March 29, 2014
Some might say we’ve gotten to the point of saturation (saturation point, for short) in terms of channels to our fans. We’ve got the website, e-store, chiclet distributorship, garment factory consultancy, t-shirt gun, and on and on. To those people we say, hooey. The next natural iteration for Worlds Best Daddy (DOT O – R – G) is to launch a podcast.
AT decided on the name RockStar last night at dinner. No equivocations. It will be a mix of Ellen and Judge Judy with sprinkle of Telletubby. Please feel free to send us your questions or any subject matter you’d like us to tackle.
Please bare in mind that this is our first shot at this. And we only needed 1 take. So don’t worry if there is a couple (periods) of (20 seconds) of silence, it’s about to pick right back up. It’s good from there. Don’t even think of fast-forwarding. So, voila, enjoy, and you’re welcome! And thanks~ AT & WBD
AT likes her rituals. She demands an eggy-burrito nightly while she watches her programs (Macneil/Leher primarily) — and who am I to deny her this? I once ate a tuna fish sandwich every day for an entire summer when I was a big-wheel trucker in college and I never once got sick of it. The only reason I stopped was school started again and I needed to move on to eating a burrito every day. And I forcibly removed her pacifier at 3 months, and now she sucks her fingers, so I figured she probably might knows what’s best for her.
But recently, she’s taken up the habit of the never-ending bedtime ritual, and to parrot one of her favorite phrases, “I.don’t.like.it” (said through gritted teeth very, very slowly). This never-ending ritual starts with something she co-opted from me, the spell-it-out method¹ of saying what you intend to have happen long before doing it.
Up until very recently, I’ve found it particularly effective to spell out EVERYTHING the two of us will be doing together in advance, not only so I can later say, “SEE!” and “REMEMBER?”, but because it’s really the only proven tactic I’ve had for getting her to do what I want. One example of this is on a typical weeknight after I’ve picked her up from daycare. On these drives home, I always spell out exactly what we’ll be doing (eg. “we’re going home to make dinner, you can watch one episode of wonder pets, and then it’s bath, book, song, and bed — sound good?”). This has worked quite well, until just recently, when she’s been heading me off at the pass and using my method against me.
Instead of me dictating our night in advance, she will say things immediately after we get in the car like, “Just so you know, I’m not tired at all daddy and I’m not going to be tired later”… at 5:30 pm! Of course you aren’t tired you sweet little monster. What am I supposed to say to that?!
Partially my response to this is seasonal, it’s summer after-all and we live almost as far north as Alaska, so it’s generally quite bright when I’m trying to get her to fall asleep at 8(ish), and so I say, ok, let’s read another story, or hang out while daddy gets his at-bat in softball.
But when it’s pushing 9:30 and she is adamantly not tired (yet yawning violently), I’ve tried everything to combat this objection:
Aggressive post-school play. I love to take her to Greenlake or Wallingford Wading Pool and try to tire her out as best I can after a long day of running around at daycare. I have her run win sprints with a weighted-vest with the parachute attachment. Doesn’t Help.
Sugar-rush! I’ll admit this may at first blush appear completely counterintuitive, but I read something recently that stated that the “sugar high” is actually a complete fallacy, so I thought perhaps if I just seceded to her every chocolate whim, perhaps she’d do me a solid and go to bed when I ask. Nyet Chance, and chocolate stains the $hit out of her PJs.
Scalding Hot Bath. You know what makes me sleepy? Hot tubs make me really sleepy. I thought perchance if I ticked up the temp on her bath right before bed it might make her conk out. So far it has only made her look slightly oompa loompa-ish and strengthened her resolve not to go to bed because in her words, “I’m soooooooooo not tired right now because of that bath.”
These 3 seemingly brilliant ploys to tire her out have only made the ritual seem that much more feeble and pointless. Perhaps I should just turn on the TV and let her watch it until she falls asleep? This would free me up to go to bars and dog tracks and other things and then come home to a sleeping toddler (and blaring TV) and I’m sure there wouldn’t be many long term repercussions, and I might make a bit of money. Continue reading
I don’t think I’m biased when I say that I have spawned one of the most prolific performers (per capita) in the history of entertainment. Not Whitney Houston circa Bodyguard, nor Krea$hawn circa Gucci, Gucci could match her range and tenacity. My problem really is, I haven’t found a suitable way to make any money from this. (Story of my life, some might say).
So, the pageant circuit seems grueling and really what are we hoping to win there, prestige? Free teeth whitening for life, maybe.