The Backstory

Hello, my name's Steve Taft. Not long ago, I was a host on a nationally televised daytime TV show. Now I'm an unemployed, stay-at-home father of two. The transition hasn't been easy.

First off, the backstory: when I was offered the job on "Living Live" a year ago, I jumped right on it. After all, on paper it appeared to be the job of my dreams. Up until then, I'd made a living performing stand-up comedy in sparsely attended Los Angeles theme bars while writing comedy for low-rated basic cable shows. I wasn't starving. But I wasn't fulfilled either. Especially since it had been my dream since I started doing stand-up twelve years ago to become a talk show host. I'm the guy who caught EVERY episode of "Letterman" from eighth grade through college. After graduating, I swore I'd someday follow in his steps. Twelve years later, opportunity came knocking. Sorta.


"Living Live" was a simple production--five genial hosts discussing women's health and lifestyle issues (it was daytime TV, after all). Since I was the lone comic of the group, it was my job to add some lightheartedness to the festivities. Notice I didn't say "comedy." There's a difference. "Comedy" entails finger cymbals and "look-at-me!" buffoonery. "Lightheartedness" simply asks for a quip or two--palatable, well-intentioned, NEVER offensive. Since my official title on the show was "correspondent," I was sent into the field every day--in this case, Universal Orlando theme park--to conduct folksy man-on-the-street interviews with parkgoers. After all the belligerent audiences I'd survived as a stand-up, this sounded like a breeze. Plus a helluva demo reel for a future gig as a talk show host. My schoolteacher wife agreed, and, with our 5-year-old girl and 2-year-old boy in tow, we moved to Orlando, Florida.

"Living Live" premiered December 4th, and by December 5th we were in trouble. Panic quietly spread through the crew as our bosses began juggling hosts, rewriting segments, devising new camera angles, dismantling and quickly rebuilding sets, and overhauling wardrobes. Ultimately, it was all for nothing. Without expensive graphics packages or celebrity guests, we were D.O.A. "Oprah" ate us up. "Ellen" left us for dead. Hell, even "Martha" kicked us in the nets. "Living Large" was obliterated by the American viewing public, leaving me, Steve Taft, TV roadkill.

The move back to Los Angeles was a killer. Emotionally and financially. Meanwhile I'd completely abandoned the stand-up comedy career it had taken over a dozen years to build. My wife would be transitioning from stay-at-home mom (her lifelong dream) to fulltime schoolteacher (not so much her lifelong dream) since I couldn't line up a steady gig. And when you've got nothing lined up in a city like Hollywood, you best be ready to spend a lot of time at home. So here I am--an unemployed, stay-at-home father of two. Enjoy my misadventures. And remember, at one point, I was gonna be a star...