CV. The Stay at Home Dad: Discouraging YouTube stardom
Parents just don’t understand. And in some cases, I’m totally fine with that.
When I was a kid, I wanted to become a game show host. I’d pretend to host my favorite games, mostly “Price is Right” and “Wheel of Fortune,” and I’d even co-star as the voice-over announcer (because the best job at the “Price is Right” is saying “Come on down!”).
Honestly, that fantasy somewhat continues to this day. I don’t have a desire to be famous, but I’d do it if it meant being in charge of a game show. I’d take almost any program, especially now in the COVID era where I wouldn’t have to listen to the constant screaming of a live audience. Add that crowd noise in post-production, thank you very much. I like it quiet on the set.
Sorry, quick aside, but the only game show I wouldn’t host now is “Wheel of Fortune,” despite my fondness for it as a kid. Not unless they revert back to the classic rules. That means a final round where contestants choose a prize card from a selection W, H, E, E, or L-marked cards. And don’t get me started on prizes on the big wheel that aren’t actual prizes. If I earn the “Half a car” wedge and solve the puzzle, then I should literally get half of that KIA.
Anyway… parenting.
My kids like watching some game shows, but they don’t love the genre and they don’t fantasize about hosting their own one day. All four kids, ages 3-9, would much rather watch some random video on YouTube Kids. Being famous to them means making money on YouTube.
One of their favorites is “Ryan’s World,” about that kid who made millions of dollars playing with expensive toys other kids can’t afford. These days he’s got his own line of garbage toys (underwear too) and a normal-ish show on Nickelodeon, but my kids still prefer the YouTube clips. The recent ones are abysmally-painful skits set inside their family mansion.
The other YouTube star they like is some teenage girl commenting on weird pictures of fruits and vegetables. I don’t even know her name. Their favorite video is one where she shows a picture of a little green pepper growing inside of a regular size pepper, and the teenage girl uses a funny voice to say, “Peppah! There’s not enough room for you to grow in here!”
My kids think they would be incredible YouTube stars. They occasionally use our iPad to record themselves spouting nonsense, and, sure, with a little editing, it might be no worse than any of the popular kid content on YouTube already. As you might guess, I haven’t shown them how to connect those videos to the Internet.
Last year, my oldest son wanted to be a firefighter. Now, at age 7, he thinks he can have a career making videos of himself playing video games. He watches this channel of a grown man playing “Minecraft,” and while it’s absolutely horrendous, the guy apparently makes money on Twitch, or has a Twitch or I don’t know… I go on YouTube to watch late night talk show monologues and old videos of Bob Barker-era “Price is Right.” Nothing in this world makes sense.
If this were an advice column, I’d explain to you how my wife and I sat the children down and thoughtfully engaged in a conversation about tempering expectations of fame and fortune. Content creation should be about how it fulfills YOU, and that obsessing over attracting a large audience or making money ultimately hinders the quality of the art.
And look, we said some version of that to them, but whatever words we chose did nothing to squash their fascination with YouTube stardom.
My parents probably had it easier when I told them I wanted to be a game show host. Their answer could be, “Sure, you can do anything when you grow up,” and they could simply downplay the long odds of such an endeavor. The problem now is my kids think they can become stars TODAY, and, while I’d happily spend all their potential YouTube money on a really nice hot tub, I’m not particularly interested in helping them create an online content empire.
The reality, of course, is that the vast majority of YouTube creators don’t make money, and for the time being, I’d much rather have my young kids focus on basic education. Once they learn how to read better, maybe I’ll buy them the ‘Dummies Guide to Becoming a YouTube Star.’”
It all seems so alien to me, but I guess it isn’t much different than wanting to be the star of “Wheel of Fortune.” If they eventually become motivated to do something great, then maybe they will find success or happiness or both.
But selfishly, I will take any opportunity to slow down their “growing up.” Just be weird kids and act silly and make strange shows your parents can enjoy. No reason to introduce them to the Internet mob just yet.
Okay, seriously, if you put a million dollar wedge onto the Wheel of Fortune, and you solve the puzzle while in possession of that wedge, you should get a million dollars. If you don’t want to give away a million dollars, don’t put it on the (expletive deleted) wheel in the first place. If I were hosting that show, there’d be changes on DAY ONE.
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Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer and stay-at-home parent to four kids, ages 3-9. He’d like to get paid to write a weekly column about game shows. He can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.