The Daily Daren Podcast

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at: https://www.artlargerthanme.com/linksI developed an irrational fear of balloons sometime in my childhood. Honestly I don't like any unexpectedly loud noises – I get this clenched up feeling in my back and shoulders whenever motorcycles speed by making a bunch of noise, or when I'm in a club where the music is so loud you can't think. But balloons sort of developed into a bigger dislike, I don't even like holding a balloon or being around it, because when it inevitably pops, it's going to be loud, and I'm going to clench up, and I just really hate it.I'm not sure if it was all the games we played as kids where you split in two teams and try to pop a balloon before the other team does, or if I like had a balloon popped in my face as a kid and it scarred me subconsciously, but I really hate balloons. When I was in school and we'd have to pop a balloon for some reason or another, I'd always always find a way to avoid being in the room, and eventually I used to just start leaving whenever someone brought a balloon around.The other day I was at my gallery shop here in Portland, preparing for an event, and one of the other gallery owners of another space offered me some of the balloons from a party he'd had there the night before. It was such a nice thing to do! And I also wanted people to be able to find my event since we're a little tucked away, but when I took the balloons from him I got that same feeling, the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood up, and my stomach did a little flip, and I realized that I've been scared of balloons for my entire life, and I really don't know why. But, I guess everyone has something, right?

 Follow Daren Todd on all things social at https://artlargerthanme.com/linksThe second thing that produces a very odd physical response when I discover it unexpectedly, even as an adult, are things growing unexpectedly, like potatoes in the fruit bowl, or mold, or finding a mushroom in a house plant. The feeling is just like when you see a particularly creepy spider, or earwigs come scattering out from underneath a potted plant, or cockroaches. Except no one I've ever met feels this way when they discover something growing –it doesn't really make sense when I think about it rationally, but when it happens I still feel my stomach flip all the same. When I was a kid, my parents bought my little sibling and I a bright red, crab shaped sandbox. Each of the arms was a pincher of the crab that you could sit on and dig around in the box. I played in it all the time, and we had it for years even when we got a little older and moved across town. At some point, I had a bean bag that I would kick around, and a few of the beans slipped out of it and fell into the sandbox. I definitely saw them drop in there, but I couldn't see a reason to pick them up, they'd just become part of the sand and they were pretty dried out anyways.A week later I was playing in the back yard and to my utter horror, the beans had sprouted in the sand box and were growing up little green stalks out of the sand. I had thought the beans were dead, and it never occurred to me that they would ever grow. I can't really explain why this upset me or surprised me, except that I was a little kid and I didn't understand it and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my stomach do that little flip. It's definitely irrational. But I guess on the list of things that are irrationally upsetting to all sorts of people, it's not that odd.

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at: https://www.artlargerthanme.com/links.Episode 23: Irrational Fears (Part One)One time my Dad took my sibling and I down to the beach for the afternoon to go fishing. I remember we were a little older, I was probably like 13 which would have made my younger sibling like 10, and we went to the same beach we grew up next to, called Surf Beach. Surf Beach is about ten minutes outside of Lompoc, on the central coast of California, and it's right next to some government owned land and an air force base called Vandenburg. Sometimes, they launch rockets from Vandenburg Air Force Base, and when you drive out to Surf Beach you see lines of people camping out waiting to watch the rockets fly into space.Today though, the roads were clear and the sun was overcast, and the only goal I really had for the day was to play in the sand and try to make a really nice sand castle. I was kind of obsessed with sand castles and had recently discovered there were sand castle competitions where people made castles taller than a kid and carved all sorts of interesting shapes out of them – I wanted to make a sculpture. My sibling and I had shovels and buckets and hand trowels and popsicle sticks, we were ready. We started by digging a giant hole in the sand, and about a foot and a half into the hole, which was starting to fill with water, I saw something I'd never seen before.I'd been coming to Surf Beach consistently for 13 years before that – I'd always dug in the sand every single time, looking for sand crabs to hook on the end of fishing lines to catch fish with, or to hold and watch them move around with their dozens of tiny arms. But today what I saw in the sand completely horrified me – I felt a flip in the bottom of my stomach that made my heart thud in my chest. All the hairs on the back of my neck and arms stood up on end.“Get out of the sand!” I yelled at my sibling who was likely knee deep in the puddle that was forming at the bottom of our hole. “There's… BLOOD WORMS!” My sibling hopped up out of the hole and we started quickly on a new one, convinced that the blood red wriggling worm with thousands of tiny bright red legs and probably, we thought, teeth, was just a one-time occurrence. There was no way the monsters had always been there, beneath the sand that we had dug into and play in and buried each other up to the neck in for a decade.But there were worms in the next whole, and the next, until finally I gave up my dream of becoming pro level sand castle builders because I just couldn't stop the urge to shudder and be sick that the thought of blood worms gives me, even to this day. The only things I have ever encountered that produce the same uncontrollable irrational physical response that makes my skin crawl are plants growing in unexpected places, and balloons. Surf beach was never the same after the blood worms, it just seemed kind of dirty, and scary now, and I guess the feeling of my skin crawling is a lot like the feeling when you realize that as you grow up, things change, and there's not really much you can do about it.

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at: https://www.artlargerthanme.com/links.Episode 24: The Water TowerEvery once and a while I sit down and try to imagine what the biggest most important, life changing, exciting, inspiring art project I can think of would be, and how I would do it. I think it's good to dream, and I always dream big so I have something wild to reach for each year. When I was doing music full time, this dream was always about opening for a famous rapper like Kendrick Lamar or J Cole, and being on stage in front of thousands of people, with dancers and flashing lights and a crazy outfit that looked like a yellow space suit.Now though, as an artist, when I think about what my Dream Art Project is right now, its painting a water tower. When I first moved to Portland I was fortunate enough to have met a friend who invited me to come and live with him, in his house. Down on the corner and across the street from the house there's a giant park – and the biggest water tower I have ever seen up close. I love this park – last winter when it snowed my partner and I bundled ourselves up in our thickest sweatpants and sweaters, tied up our boots and grabbed a giant cardboard box that we'd taped all across the bottom to help it slide, and went sledding down the tiniest hill ever, at this park, in the middle of the night. The water tower was dripping from a dozen places with all the water of the melted snow, and for a minute it really seemed like the entire tower was leaking.You can stand underneath the water tower and kids play between all its legs, and ride their bikes or roll in the grass beneath it. It's the scariest thing in the world though to stand across the street and peer up at it and be able to just visualize how much water would come crashing out of it if it ever cracked – but it probably never will.Anyways. It would be amazing to paint this water tower. And not just paint it a giant blob of green color, like it is now, but to paint it like a dozen different colors in that classic swirl pattern I've been painting for years now… it would probably take a month! Or I would get a giant spray gun and do a lot of taping? Hard to say. But that's my current big, big dream.

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at: https://www.artlargerthanme.com/links.Episode 23: PianosPianos have always been one of my favorite instruments. There's something about the weight of each key when you press it down, about how much sound can fill an entire room when you play them strongly, how different combinations of notes and chords can send different emotions and colors swirling around in the air, and inside my mind. When I was in seventh grade I remember deciding I wanted to play the piano and I asked my parents to get me into piano lessons. They did, and for a few weeks I would go to the music shop on Ocean Avenue, and sit with a pianist in the back room who taught me the basics of reading music, and playing with both hands. I didn't have very much patience though, and quickly taught myself some basic chords and scales and never took the time to learn more.Now, I can still noodle around on a piano or follow along by ear to most things, although not well. I wish I had put more time into my lessons – I guess it's never too late.When I first moved to Portland, one of the first projects I was exposed to around art and creativity was called Piano.Push.Play – its a music and community driven project that rescues pianos that are destined for the dump, fixes them up and then commissions artists to paint them or customize them in fun and beautiful ways, and then sets the piano in a public space around Portland during the summer, for anyone to come up and get an opportunity to play a piano. It had never occurred to me before being exposed to Piano Push Play that there are probably millions of people who simply never get the opportunity to hear how a piano sounds in person, or feel the weight of the keys beneath their fingers.I've gotten the opportunity to collaborate with Piano Push Play for a few years now and it's one of my very favorite projects to work on. Each piano seems to be different, each style or make or model has its own ornamentation and decoration, and it seems like each one has a personality that I have the honor of updating with paint. It's magic. Pianos are amazing.

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at: https://www.artlargerthanme.com/links.Episode 22: Family ReunionsSome of the best memories of my childhood revolve around family reunions. A family reunion is when every single person in one of your parents entire family comes together and hangs out for a weekend. Basically, like 150 people take over a park or a convention center, and do activities, and eat food and catch up with each other and hang out. The best part about it is that everyone is related. All the kids play together and feel like they are cousins. Every older lady you meet is your Aunty, or your cousin, every man is your uncle, or your cousin. I mean, you pretty much meet every single person you could have ever imagined was related to you all in one day. Family reunions are honestly amazing. When my sibling and I were kids our parents took us to four or five family reunions that I can remember. I know one of them I don't really remember, I just know I was there because I've seen pictures of myself there as a four or five year old. Another one I remember because it was at this huge park that had what seemed like miles of grass, and big trees to climb, and parks to play on. They rented out the rec room at the park and there was so much good food, barbecue and a thousand potato salads and enough sheet cakes to cover an entire folding table, and that drink that's just sprite with a sherbet ice cream floating in it. Another family reunion in Cincinnati Ohio, I remember because it was so so hot. It must have been 102 or 103 and we were at a park again. I ran around all morning playing with my cousins and then during lunch time I remember sitting down at the table and putting my head down in my arms and falling asleep. My Mom found me and woke me up and made me drink cups of water, I'd straight up just passed out from the heat. The best family reunion I remember took place at a giant man made lake. I was really stuck on the fact that this lake was supposedly man-made. I remember being so shocked to find the pebbles at the bottom were just little pieces of plastic or some kinda astro turf rocks. The best part was my parents bought my sibling and I each a giant water gun. It was like the shotgun of water guns, with the water pumping part where the pump-action would be and we honestly felt invincible. I'm pretty sure we lost those guns by leaving them near the lake and forgetting them by the end of the day though, big regret.

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at: https://www.artlargerthanme.com/links.Episode 21: Witch Hazel, Alcohol, & Witches BrewWhen I was a kid and I'd get hurt in any way that wasn't permanent, or bleeding, my Mom would always always respond, “Just put some alcohol on it!” She'd grab a clean washcloth or some cotton balls and rub some rubbing alcohol onto the bruised knee or kicked shin or stubbed toe and somehow it seemed to dissolve the pain away. Growing up though, we'd always tease her and laugh and say, “Even if we had a stomach, your cure is always just “put some alcohol on it!”” Another one of those childhood things that you wonder where they came from was using witch hazel. I think witch hazel is just like a watery astringent that has a bunch of uses. I think it's good for your skin, like an early form of toner, just to clean the oily layer off before bed? But, the name – when I was a kid, witch hazel just sounded like some kind of potion, and I never believed it actually did anything to make my face any better.When I was like 12 my parents took us with them to Trader Joes and on one of the shelves they had a product called Witches Brew. Wiches Brew is technically a sweet red wine brewed with some fruit and spices and served warm. I think this was a non-alcoholic version that was pretty disgusting, but I begged them to let me try it and we bought it and I was the only one in the house who actually liked it. I still like things that are kinda nasty, or really sour, or bitter, like fernet, or stinky cheeses. Another thing was sleeping in socks with vaseline on my feet. That one actually worked though, I tried it a few years ago and my feet were so soft for like months after that.

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at: https://www.artlargerthanme.com/links. Text version of the episode:Episode 20: My Mom Can SingGrowing up in church, I got the opportunity to hear my Mom sing so many times. She was the praise and worship leader at our small community church, and together with a guitar player, a drummer (sometimes a drum machine), a bass player and a handful of other singers, my Mom made every single Sunday our own private concert. I remember being a kid and just trying so hard to sound like her while the congregation all sang together, trying to emulate her tone and the way she twisted the syllables of the words around the rhythms of the notes. It always seemed to me like she was talking, speaking through every sentence, and sometimes when she would sing on stage she would look down at me, and smile. Sometimes she would cry, too, and it always makes me cry to even think about my Mom crying, even still. I've always loved to listen to my Mom sing. She really has one of the best voices I have ever heard in my life, and even her speaking voice is soft and so full of melody. To this day I'll hear a few songs and swear I can hear a moment in them where it's her voice – when I was a kid I used to tell myself she had gotten into those studios and sang in the background.When I was pretty young my mom took me with her to a gathering of singers who formed a choir, maybe it was a singing club? Or maybe, they were recording an album? I can't remember really, and I don't think I would have understood then even if she told me, but I remember we drove down past Santa Barbara, about an hour from where we lived in Lompoc, and went to this college campus that seemed like it was hidden in the forest. For years after that I used to dream about going back there, its just one of those places your mind holds onto and brings back up when you sleep. She sang and sang and I got to listen to her sing along with some of the most talented singers I'd ever seen. My Mom, can sing.

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at: https://www.artlargerthanme.com/links. Text version of the episode:Growing up I was constantly exposed to music. My parents have always been the type of people who keep music playing in the house, and I've picked up that habit too – it's really amazing to me when I encounter people who don't like music, or don't have the habit of listening to music all the time. My partner likes music, too, it's actually one of the first things that attracted me to her when we met. She'd play her playlists and I'd recognize half the songs – nothing lets you know you align with someone more then liking the same kinds of music.My Dad was really into jazz when I was growing up. He likes all kinds of jazz – smooth jazz, bebop, the stuff playing on NPR – anything. I've always had an affinity for jazz as well, even though the kinds of jazz I've played in the house has grown and changed over the years, and other things will always be favorites.When I think about what my family's favorite song is, it's got to be a long, long list. One song near the top though is definitely “Mas Que Nada”, the Al Jarreau version – its really something special. When I was a little kid and my Mom was working long hours, my Dad would put Mas Que Nada on full blast from the living room speakers, which were four feet tall wooden standalones with black speaker screens across the front, and books or candles or decorates always sitting on top of them. My Dad had what seemed like an entire wall of music equipment all hooked up in the living room, around the TV. I couldn't tell you what half the boxes did – seems like he had a mixer, an amplifier and a CD changer? But when I was a kid it seemed like an entire wall of sound machines that made music come from the sharp plastic disks that were supposed to stay inside their cases when they weren't in the CD player, and turned it into an electronic signal through all the boxes and wires, and come out as something so beautiful on the other side.Through the last 30 years of my life I feel like music has always, always been there, and I'll always be so grateful for the gift of loving music that my parents imparted to me.

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at: artlargerthanme.com/links Text version of the episode:Episode 18: FishingMy Dad is a fisherman. Not by trade, by trade he is actually a quality assurance manager. But, his favorite hobby before riding bikes, and painting, and listening to music, is definitely fishing. I love fishing – I honestly have done it in probably a decade, but I still love it. I grew up in a tiny town of 40,000 people called Lompoc, California. It's basically a suburb of Santa Barbara, which is really just a suburb of Los Angeles, but LA is a three hour car drive south from Lompoc. It's in the hills where now they grow some of the best Pinot Noir in the world, but where when I was a kid was just green in the spring and hay yellow the rest of the year. When you drive from Lompoc to Santa Barbara, there's about half a dozen spots you can either park and fish off a pier, or climb down some rocks of cliffs and fish right on the beach into the ocean. We did both – I feel like when it was warmer, my Dad would go fishing almost every weekend. The night before, on Friday, when we weren't at church and wouldn't have service the following Saturday, my dad would disappear into the garage and I'd find him organizing his tackle box. There were hundred thousand little compartments and trays with separations, and in each one you could find something. There would be hooks, or pre tied knots, or little findings that attach two parts of a fishing line together when you wanted to fix with two hooks instead of just one, or little 1, 2 or 5 ounce weights that you put at the end of the line so it casts out into the ocean further, and sits on the ocean floor and drags along the bottom as you reel the line back in.Dad would look at my sibling and I and he would say, “I'm going to go fishing tomorrow, do you want to come?” And we'd nod, and be excited, and he would say “Okay, but you have to wake up reeealllly early, when it's still gonna be dark.” And we'd be so excited, or maybe actually sometimes we weren't really sure if we wanted to go with him as we got older, but, when we were little we'd be excited. I remember one time, I wanted to get as much sleep as possible and still wake up in time to go with him, so I slept in my fishing clothes. A baggy pair of jeans, a tee shirt, a jacket and a beanie and socks and shoes, and I laid in the bed in a pool of sweat until morning came. My Dad would peak in the room and I would pop up, immediately awake, and help him put the tackle boxes in the trunk and load up the car with like camping chairs and some buckets in case we caught a fix, and try like a puzzle to fit the fishing rods into the truck without having to unfasten them apart too much - fishing poles come in little aluminum sections that you fit together and have good amount of bend in them.One of the best parts of going fishing was that we'd get to stop at the bait shop on the way out of town. It was really just a liquor store that has a deep freezer in the front thats full of frozen bait like squid, and little tiny shrimp, and fish eggs and I feel like sometimes I would see chicken wings? I don't know, I was a kid. And worms! There were like six types of worms, like big juicy earthworms and little tiny red squirmy looking worms, and there was shrimp, and my dad would pick something he thought the fish would eat, and we would get to buy some chips and some cookies and just a few snacks to eat so we wouldn't be too hungry at the beach. Sometimes we'd make peanut butter jelly sandwiches too but they always always got sand in them. At least chips, you can't tell the difference in the crunch. We'd drive out to one of a dozen places, and lug everything out of the car and set up camp, and watch my Dad rig the lines with bait and we'd stand there in a row, sometimes all three of us and cast out into the ocean like 20 to 50 feet and just watch the waves roll in, and wait for the line to jerk just a little bit, the feeling of a fish biting the bait. And then you'd JERK IT, and set the hook, and reel it in and see what was on the other side.

Follow Daren Todd on everything social at: artlargerthanme.com/linksEpisode 17: The Black Happy Birthday SongOne of the best things about being Black is the feeling of culture. There are things that Black people do because our parents did them, because their parents did them, and it just keeps going on. I guess that's the same in every culture, but I'm Black, and so for me when these moments of shared culture would happen growing up, I assumed it was just a Black thing. One of the best ones is the Black Happy Birthday Song, - it's actually just called Happy Birthday, by Stevie Wonder. When I was a kid as far back as I can remember, whenever it was anyone's birthday and my Mom was around, after singing the regular Happy Birthday Song, “Happy Birthday to you”, my Mom would immediately bust out the “Happy Birthday to ya” version, and clap, and only the Black people would join in or know what she was alluding to.What's funny is, when I was younger, I didn't realize that this wasn't just a song that Black people were all born knowing, but that it was written in 1980, 11 years before I was born, by Stevie Wonder, who is literally a music genius. I'd never heard the original song because my parents didn't play very much secular music and somehow it just never landed in my lexicon of songs your parents play when you're a kid, even though they ALWAYS had music playing in the house. Two years ago when the pandemic hit and many of us found ourselves with loads of extra time, I went back and listened through all of Stevie Wonder's music, and the Happy Birthday Song came up. For some reason, it didn't sound anything like I expected it to, except for the hook part that my Mom would always sing.

Follow Daren Todd on everything social at: artlargerthanme.com/links Text version of the episode:Episode 16 Five Flavored CakeI still remember the first time I ever had Five Flavored Cake. My family decided to take a road trip from California all the way to Kentucky, where my mom was born and then to Ohio, to see my Aunt. We must have driven for what seemed like a month! We did the grand canyon (it's just a big ass canyon) and we saw the arch in St. Louis, and somewhere in Texas maybe, we saw a giant 19 story cross with some statues of Jesus around it. Eventually we got to Kentucky, and then to Ohio where my Aunt, who I am named after and share a birthday with, lives. She lived alone, in a really nice neighborhood in Columbus, Ohio. I remember when we stayed with her we watched GoodTimes and The Golden Girls on her TV and I think I slept on a cot in one room at night. One of the days we were there my Dad and my Aunt went to the store and when they came home they had bought some steaks to barbeque that had been marked for sale accidentally. They paid like six dollars for six steaks – I don't remember if they were good or not, but I remember how excited everyone was at the unexpected bargain. Honestly, I'm still like that today – I love buying things on sale, even sometimes when they're things I don't really need. We helped my Aunt clean out her pantry one day we were there – she was from a generation of people that saved everything they could, in case times got hard. She had a can of peaches in the pantry that had been there since before I was born! When my Dad picked up the can, he shook it, and it was empty like the peaches inside had rotted away and turned to dust. We laughed so much about that, and we still do. We went fishing with my Aunt at a city pond – my Dad is obsessed with fishing and it has always been his favorite hobby. I don't think we caught anything there though, we didn't have the right bait.Another day, my Aunt made us all her five flavored cake. I could smell it baking in the oven for hours before we ate dinner and all I wanted to do was bury my face in the cake, I'd never heard of a cake with FIVE flavors before. It was almond, lemon, vanilla, rum and coconut all packed into a moist point cake in the shape of a bundt, which sort of looks like an upside down seashell. My Aunt frosted her five-flavor cake with this really thin white frosting that hardened after pouring and created like the perfect glaze. This cake, and a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, is one hundred percent the best dessert I have ever had in my life. Sometimes my Mom would remake that cake over the years, or I'd ask for one for my birthday. She got the recipe from my Aunt and every time she made it, the whole house would warm up with that same smell of cake baking. The cake pan always had the leftover crispy bits of cake in the bottom and around the edges and we'd eat the little pieces together before dinner or singing happy birthday – it was heavenly cake. But, my Mom could never get the glaze to set the same way my Aunt had.

Follow Daren Todd on everything social at: https://artlargerthanme.com/links. Text version of the episode:Episode 15 The House PhoneFor all of my childhood and most of my adult life, my parents have always had a house phone. We never had cable when I was growing up, but we always had a home phone line and it was always the same number – 735, 8109. Even now, just saying that combination “seven three five eight one oh nine” takes me back. One of the best parts about having a house phone was being able to change the greeting on the answering machine – I wish I had used it way more than I did. I'm pretty sure when we were younger my parents had us do the cute little “You've reached the Todd family, we're not home right now. Leave a message and we'll get back to you!” In our little kid voices, but then when we got older I feel like my mom or my dad just replaced it with something simple. When I moved out after high school and my parents had their own cell phones (which still have the same numbers after all these years too), I would call home to talk to my mom and she would always let the phone ring all the way to the answering machine and make me say “Hey Mom, its me” before she would answer, like an early version of caller ID. I think eventually it got too expensive to pay for a phone line that only ever rang for telemarketers anymore, and my parents got rid of it, like everyone else these days.

Follow Daren Todd on all things social at https://www.artlargerthanme.com/links!Text version of the episode coming soon!

Follow Daren Todd online at https://artlargerthanme.com/linksText version of the episode coming soon!

Follow Daren Todd online at https://artlargerthanme.com/linksText version of the episode coming soon!

Follow Daren Todd online at https://artlargerthanme.com/linksText version of the episode coming soon!

Follow Daren Todd online at https://artlargerthanme.com/linksText version of the episode coming Soon!

Follow Daren Todd at: https://www.artlargerthanme.com/linksText version of the episode coming soon!

Follow Daren Todd online at https://artlargerthanme.com/links Text version of the episode:Last March I had top surgery. It was definitely one of the hardest things physically that I have ever been through. I've ran a half marathon once, that was painful. I've never even broken a bone. I guess I've had a pretty easy life when it comes to physical things for the most part, and I am grateful for that. Top surgery was something that I had dreamed about and planned for for many years.The surgery went fine, and I remember waking up from it and for the first day, there was no pain. Lots of stiffness but I was still pretty high and out of it from the medications. But the first night, and the next day, and the second night, and every day and night for the next week were terrible, and so incredibly painful. NIghts were the worst. I had to sleep sitting up and my butt would go numb and my feet would tingle and fall asleep and every time I would wake up from ten or fifteen minutes of sleeping, I was stiff and hurting and just overwhelmed by pain. But one of the worst parts of the recovery process was the fact that I wasn't allowed to take a shower for the first week.I'm a very clean person and I really value being able to clean myself daily — I have a skin condition that causes me to need to stay as clean and dry as possible. So this was really a specific type of torture for me. One of the most poignant memories of the recovery time was the fifth day. I woke up and just decided “You know what, I need to shower. I can't take this anymore.” And I got up and got myself into the bathroom, and I had to ask for help to turn on the shower and get the attachment into my hands, because I wasn't able to lift my arms above chest height, or pick up anything heavier than a piece of paper. But I finally got into the shower and I remember standing there under the water and washing the bottom half of my body and then just stood there, sobbing tears of relief, frustration, joy, and pain the entire shower.I'll never take the ability to move around freely and without pain for granted, ever again. Subscribe Sign up with your email address to receive weekly updates on new episodes! Email Address Sign Up We respect your privacy. Thank you!

Follow Daren Todd online at https://artlargerthanme.com/links Text version of the episode:So, another way that I'm pretty positive that the church that I grew up in was a bit over the top was, for Halloween, we weren't allowed to celebrate Halloween. And, I can kind of understand this. Halloween is about like, witches and goblins and death and the devil, kind of, or at least that's what they said. I can see how if you're religious, you're saying “no” to Halloween. Instead of Halloween, us kids got Hallelujah Night.We'd dress up as a non-scary thing and come to church, and there'd be candy and games and bobbing for apples, and we'd spend the evening kind of soaking wet, and then we'd go home. Honestly it was a safe option, and all my friends were in church anyway so I was never mad about it.One year, though, I distinctly remember that while there was Hallelujah Night going on, there was also “Fake Hell”. And I don't know if they called it like “Hell-lelujah” Night? Probably not, they probably just called it Hell. It was basically like a haunted house for adults. I snuck in, because my Dad was in there, and I wanted to know what was going on. So, I poked my head in through the back door behind a curtain, and I remember seeing like adults that I knew from the church all dressed up like demons. They'd all painted themselves red or were wearing red shirts and red face paint and, I'm not sure I remember who it was but someone was dressed up like Satan - and they were all screaming and moaning and pretending to be burning alive and in pain. Basically, they wanted to simulate what Hell was like so no one would do anything bad and get sent to Hell.What a weird, weird church. Subscribe Sign up with your email address to receive weekly updates on new episodes! Email Address Sign Up We respect your privacy. Thank you!

Follow Daren Todd online at https://artlargerthanme.com/links Text version of the episode:I spent a lot of my childhood going to church. My parents were really into it, and at the time (I've asked them about this) they thought that they were doing the best thing, keeping us safe, teaching us good values – you know. It happens to a lot of people.The church that we went to was a little bit over the top. One of the ways that they were over the top was that on Friday night, after already going to church Sunday morning, Sunday night, Monday night bible study, Tuesday night was praise and worship practice, Wednesday night was church, Thursday night was men's bible study sometimes, and on Friday night we would spend the night at church. Me and my parents and my little brother and a handful of other families would spend the night and pray until the sun came up, at church. And now that I'm an adult and I look back, this seems really ridiculous to me. But as a kid, I really looked forward to Friday nights because it was the one time in my life where I didn't have to go to bed at 8:30. All the kids would get together while the parents were praying, and we would build all these elaborate tunnels underneath the church seats and crawl up and down every row like a huge maze. We would go make ourselves terrible coffee or black tea and chug it all down, and then crawl back and forth under the chairs again and again and again until about 4am we would pass out and our parents would get done praying at sunrise and take us home. So, yeah. That church was really over the top. Subscribe Sign up with your email address to receive weekly reminders about new episodes! Email Address Sign Up We respect your privacy. Thank you!

Text version of the episode:5. The smell of the GATE test teacherI think I was probably six or seven years old when I recognized that everybody has a different smell. Like, when I come home to my house, I don't really smell anything unless there's food cooking, or I need to do laundry or, there was just a big party last night. But, when I go over to someone else's house, sometimes it smells like dogs, sometimes it smells like lettuce, sometimes it smells like spices and coffee, and sometimes it just smells like humans that are not me.The first time I realized that people have a smell, it was in third grade. It was the middle of class and I got a slip to call me out of class from the office, and the slip said “Go to room 26”. And so I went to room 26 and I walked in, and it was kinda dark in there, and there was just one teacher sitting there. On his desk he had a bunch of puzzles. He told me to sit down and we were gonna work through all these puzzles, and he was going to time me and see how good I did.So I came closer and I sat down, and the first thing that I realized was that he smelled overwhelmingly like microwave Chef Boyardi ravioli – which is gross. It was kind of like the smell of ketchup and barbeque sauce, and fake meat, and he was probably sweaty, too. But, in any case, that was the first time that I realized that not everyone smells the same way. Long story short, I tested into the GATE program and I didn't even tell my parents that I made it in until like two months later when they found out I was going to be bussed to a whole different school.The only thing I really took away from this was that ravioli stinks, and some people are smelly. Subscribe Sign up with your email address to receive daily/weekly updates with new episodes! Email Address Sign Up We respect your privacy. Thank you!

Text version of the episode:4. Getting yelled at by teacher without knowing whyWhen I was in fourth grade I got sent to a different school. I went to that same school for fifth grade too, because I tested into GATE. GATE is “Gifted and Talented Education” Program – it's basically just advanced placement classes for younger kids. Up at the school it was all of the “smarter” kids who had tested into GATE, and for fifth grade, I had a teacher named Mr. C. Mr. C was kind of an asshole. He was never really happy, never really funny, kind of just a strict disciplinarian-dad-type teacher, who maybe was passionate about science at one point, but was probably due for retirement, even though he wasn't that old. I just didn't really like him. But, I don't think I went out of my way to get on his nerves any more than any other kid did.One day, during math, I remember like getting a lesson and not really understanding most of it – and I also probably wasn't paying attention. But, Mr C didn't' really go out of his way to check who was listening and catching on. Then all of the sudden, as class is going, I realize that Mr. C is raising his voice – and, he's not only raising his voice, he's screaming! Veins are popping out of his head, and he's turning red, and the entire time that this is happening, I'm turning around and snickering at my classmate who I thought Mr. C was yelling at.Then, Mr. C keeps yelling. And I turn my head to look at him, and I realize that he's yelling at ME?! And not only is he yelling, but he's cursing at me, a fifth grader, saying “You're an idiot, you're worthless, you don't know anything, you don't pay attention, you don't even deserve to be here!”And I honestly was too shocked to cry or be upset, because I didn't even realize that I was being yelled at until everyone turned around to look at me being yelled at. I think I ended up getting detention, but, to this day, I still have no idea what I could have possibly done to deserve to be yelled at like that, in school. Subscribe Sign up with your email address to receive daily/weekly emails with new episodes! Email Address Sign Up We respect your privacy. Thank you!

Text version of the episode:For most of my childhood and into my teen years, my parents went to pretty much the same church. It was called Word of Grace, and it was a small town church with a handful of families. We had a building in the early years that was sort of on the way out of town. We would drive to church, and turn down this road, and then park. My parents were really active in the church so, my brother and I would find ourselves there an hour or two before service even started.Out in front of the building there was this tree, and underneath this tree there was a little hill, and we would stand on the little hill and hang off this tree and play, like kids do. Me, and my brother, and this other kid named J. One day, J and my brother decided to really get to swinging on the lowest branch of this tree and it started to rip off. We didn't really know anything about destroying trees and, we didn't really care that this tree was in front of the church and we were making the church look kind of run down. But my Dad came outside and yelled at us and said, “You broke this tree, and it's a living thing! How could you do this?” And, my brother and I stopped playing. And then when my Dad went back inside, J grabbed the branch one more time and just ripped it off. I wonder if that tree is still there today? I wonder if you can see the spot where the branch used to be… Subscribe Sign up with your email address to receive an email about each new episode. Email Address Sign Up We respect your privacy. Thank you!

Text version of the episode:When I was in second grade, my mom decided to homeschool me. We used to live right next to an elementary school, and I would always see the kids playing during recess but I could never really join them, because I'd have to climb the fence. One day, when I was playing outside and I'd already done all my lessons, I saw some of the kids playing, and I leaned up against the fence and watched them. Until, this teacher in an orange vest, came running full speed all the way across the soccer field towards me.“Hey!” She yelled, “Get back over the fence! You're supposed to be in school!”And I didn't know what to say! I didn't go that school, I didn't know that teacher – was homeschooled. So I effectively got in trouble for being on the other side of the fence. And, I don't know if my mom came outside or if I just ran away but, I've always felt like someone who lived on the outside of the fence.Subscribe to The Daily Daren and get a daily email when a new episode is released: Subscribe Sign up with your email address to receive a daily update for The Daily Daren Podcast by email! Email Address Sign Up We respect your privacy. Thank you!

When I was a kid my parents put me into a Christian private school – I had to wear a uniform: khaki pants, white shirt. And, the classroom was definitely the side room of a church that we didn't go to, we went to another church. I don't know wher ethey got the curiculum from, if it was something that they made up or leased or licensed but, it wasn't that good. I have this memory of class one day, we all got a piece of paper and on the paper there was a circle, a square, a rectangle and a triangle.My teacher said “Okay, everyone sit down and we're gonna take a test. You need to color the circle green, the rectangle red, the triangle yellow and the square blue. And I'm gonna leave the room and when I come back, I'm gonna check your test.”And she left, a room of us kindergarteners alone.I was looking at the paper - I'd already forgotten what she said to do - and I noticed that at the bottom of the paper, upside down, the answers were written. So I read them out loud to the class who had also forgotten. Everyone got a perfect score.When the teacher came back, she was shocked. I don't think she expected 30 or 40 of us kindergarteners to all remember what she had said.She looked around, “Who – how did ya'll know what to do?”And of course, good Christian kids, they all snitched and pointed right at me. And I thought I was going to get in trouble.But it turns out, I was the only kid in the class who knew how to read.And the next day, I found myself in the first grade. Subscribe Sign up with your email address to receive a daily update for The Daily Daren Podcast by email! Email Address Sign Up We respect your privacy. Thank you!

Welcome to The Daily Daren Podcast. The Daily Daren is a non-linear storytelling podcast where Daren Todd (me) tells the story of his life, one short moment at a time. In it you will hear ups and downs, challenges and accomplishments, and so many things in between that may seem small, but all add up to make me who I am today.