A Social Media Empire is Born

Apologies in advance for another blog about my daughters.

As I mentioned yesterday, I spent the better part of last week with my family in Boulder Colorado for a college graduation and so that is fresh on my mind.

Next week, after I have done battle with fickle clients, shifting strategies, and twenty unreturned and unacknowledged emails (what the fuck is wrong with people these days), I will will get back to business of griping about the business of advertising.

Which gives me an excellent segue into today's topic.

You see, while neither of my daughters reads this blog, or any of the books I've published, or even watched any of the commercials, TV shows or movies I've been involved with, they do have an interest in producing some media of their own.

They've been bit by the bug.

At our Mother's Day Breakfast, at The Buff on Canyon Blvd. in Boulder, home of the we-melt-cheese-on-everything-platter, the girls sprung their newest idea on me. They want to start a blog, but more likely a podcast (because a blog requires writing) entitled The I'm Not A Therapist Podcast.

The premise is quite simple.

Though neither of the girls is a licensed therapist and have absolutely no training in psychology (other than growing up in a dysfunctional family and spending inordinate time with me) they would attempt to tackle issues and challenges that had been submitted by viewers/listeners.

And how would they tackle these deep and personal dilemmas, you may ask? This is where it's apparent the apple(s) do not fall from the tree.

CALLER: "My boyfriend and I have been going out for three years. 11 months ago he moved in with me. He said it would help save money. And he smiled when he said it, so I think he was hinting that he wanted to save the money for a ring. But now it's almost a year later. I really love him. And he really loves me. How long should I wait?"

SIEGEL GIRLS: "Bitch, you need to dump his sorry ass and throw his shit to the curb. That milk expired 6 months ago. That's nasty."

Ok, I'm paraphrasing.

Sometimes it's hard to catch all the dialogue when my two girls are riffing and cackling and disturbing the rather sedate Mother's day celebration of the Wilkington's at the very next table.

WILKINGTON: Uh, waitress, can we be moved to a quieter corner of the restaurant?

I don't know whether this idea or a raft of others they are kicking around will get off the ground. But when it does, you can be sure I'll be cross promoting it here. Then and only then will my girls start reading this blog.

The joy of parenthood.