Love, Take Two

Most episodes of Love, Take Two end with someone else's story. This time, hosts José Rolón and Jaimie Kelton turn the mic on themselves. The conversation starts with Dolly Parton's death, which hit Jaimie harder than either of them expected, cracking open old childhood memories and a quiet, long buried dream of singing in public instead of just dancing for the camera. What follows is a looser, more personal episode, less interview and more check in, as Jose and Jaimie talk through what almost two seasons of guests have actually taught them.They get into turning 50, and almost 50, and the strange experience of being told by a woman at the gym that she assumed Jose was decades younger. Jose opens up about Thomas, his parter who has shared his home for three and a half years now, what it's actually been like learning to share space and routines after a decade of doing things entirely on his own terms, and how having that support is the only reason this podcast exists at all. Jaimie talks about raising her kids in New York City with her wife Ann, the tradeoffs of city parenting versus what their guest Alexis described, and why, challenges and all, she wouldn't trade it.Woven through all of it is the throughline they keep noticing in guest after guest: Anthony Luciano starting over in his sixties, Jeff Hiller pushing past the shame of still chasing a dream in his forties, their youngest guest Alessandra proving it's never too late at any age. As Jaimie puts it, the lesson is always the same. People stop holding themselves back, and then they just do the thing.This is a conversation about what two people who ask everyone else about their second acts have learned about their own, and what happens when you finally let your own light shine instead of just shining it on others.Key Takeaways- What Dolly Parton's death unlocked for Jaimie, and the dream it's pushing her to finally pursue- Jose's reflections on bringing Thomas into his home and learning to share a life after a decade on his own- The real tradeoffs of raising kids in New York City, and why Jaimie wouldn't trade it despite the challenges- The throughline Jose and Jaimie keep noticing across guests like Anthony Luciano, Jeff Hiller and Alessandra- Why both hosts believe the real lesson of every Take 2 story is simple: stop holding back and just do the thingIf this episode resonated, send it to a friend who needs a reminder that it's never too late to finally do the thing you've been holding back. Come hang out with us on social.

Most people think reinvention means becoming someone new. Margaret Cho found hers by finally becoming fully herself. In this episode of Love, Take Two, hosted by José Rolón and Jaimie Kelton, Margaret takes listeners through the version of her story that rarely makes the highlight reel: leaving high school before finishing, chasing comedy and independence on her own terms, and landing a role that made television history as the star of the first Asian American sitcom, only to watch the network try to reshape her body, her identity, and everything that made her Margaret in the first place. She talks candidly about what that pressure did to her, the eating disorder it left behind, and the years of addiction, anxiety, and depression that followed as she tried to survive fame without a roadmap for how to do it. Margaret gets into what actually changed. Not a single dramatic turning point, but a decision to get sober, one she has now sustained for ten years, and the community and clarity that decision gave her back. She also opens up about her father, a Korean immigrant who felt invisible in 1960s San Francisco until he found the city's gay community and eventually opened a gay bookstore of his own, and about growing up as one of the only visible queer voices on television during the height of the AIDS crisis, a fact that becomes deeply personal in this conversation as José shares his own memory of watching her on TV as a teenager while his family navigated losing his father to AIDS in silence. Margaret also speaks directly about her advocacy for the trans community today, why she has no interest in softening that stance, and what it means to reclaim a label being used as an insult. This is a conversation about reclamation, resilience, and what happens when a decade of sobriety finally lets someone come home to themselves. Key Takeaways How network television tried to reshape Margaret during All-American Girl, and the toll that took on her body and identity What a decade of sobriety has given her that fame and success never could The story of her father's gay bookstore in 1960s San Francisco, and what it meant for him to finally be seen José's personal reflection on watching Margaret on television as a teenager while his family hid his father's AIDS diagnosis Why Margaret refuses to back down from being called a "radical trans activist," and what she believes comedy's role is in the fight ahead If this episode resonated, send it to someone who needs a reminder that surviving your past and thriving in your present are not the same thing, and that the second one is always still possible. Come hang out with us on social.

Most people think a second act means starting over somewhere new. Alexis Kristiana found hers by going back to where she started. In this episode of Love, Take Two, Alexis takes us through the version of reinvention nobody expects: leaving New York for a house in the Texas suburbs with her husband and three kids, doing everything she was told a good parent is supposed to do, and realizing somewhere along the way that it was the wrong life wearing the right furniture. She talks about the backyard nobody used enough, the son who cried in the car every day because he missed walking, and the moment she watched him get quietly, wrongly labeled before he'd even started kindergarten.Alexis gets into what it actually took to admit the move wasn't working, without treating it like a failure at all. No dramatic breakdown, no five year plan. Just three non-negotiables, a new one bedroom, three bedroom apartment ten minutes from where they used to live, and a decision to raise her kids in the noise and chaos she grew up believing you were supposed to escape. She opens up about becoming a mother in isolation during the pandemic, the videos her own mother recorded from across the world while stationed in the Navy, and how becoming a parent herself finally taught her what those recordings actually meant.For Alexis, going back wasn't retreat. It was proof that the life she wanted had been right the first time, she just had to leave it to find that out.This is a conversation about permission, homecoming, and what happens when you stop measuring a good life by the size of the house it comes in.Key Takeaways:-Why the backyard and the bigger house never solved the thing she thought they would-What her son's quiet withdrawal in the suburbs taught her about what he actually needed-The illegal, biased assessment that pushed her into homeschooling, and why she has no regrets-What her mother's recorded bedtime stories from the Navy taught her about presence, decades later-Why she believes the best second act isn't a leap forward. It's the courage to turn back aroundIf this episode resonated, send it to someone who needs a reminder that going home isn't giving up. Sometimes it's the bravest reinvention there is. Come hang out with us on social.

Most people think finding the spotlight means chasing it. Lori E. Seid spent 40 years actively avoiding it, and somehow ended up more essential to New York's downtown arts scene than almost anyone with their name on the marquee. In this episode of Love, Take Two, Lori takes us through the version of a career nobody plans for on purpose: starting out at a copy shop on West 8th Street making posters for broke, brilliant artists, and just never leaving. What followed was four decades of being the person everyone in the room trusted, road managing Sophie B. Hawkins before she'd released a single song, producing for Rosie O'Donnell's talk show, and turning down Blue Man Group's first millions because eight shows a week just wasn't her cup of tea. She talks candidly about coming of age as a baby dyke on Long Island in the 1970s, getting shipped off to Provincetown after her parents read her diary, and how the queer community there effectively raised her. She gets into the AIDS crisis with unflinching honesty, the lesbian safe sex handbooks she helped smuggle across borders, and the friends she lost who never got the chance to have a Take Two at all. Lori gets into what it actually took to finally step into her own spotlight, at an age when most people are told it's too late to start. No rebrand, no reinvention plan. Just a lifetime of material sitting in her tiny, forty-year apartment, and a night on stage that turned into the performance of her life. She opens up about the moment Cyndi Lauper stopped a nervous young singer mid-performance to tell her she belonged there, and how that memory cracked something open in Lori on the subway ride home. For Lori, this chapter isn't about becoming someone new. It's about finally telling the stories she's been collecting, on purpose, her whole life. This is a conversation about loyalty, timing, and what happens when the person who spent decades making everyone else look good finally decides it's her turn. Key Takeaways How a copy shop job on West 8th Street turned into a 40 year career working alongside Rosie O'Donnell, Cyndi Lauper, and Sophie Hawkins Why she turned down Blue Man Group's early success, and how she felt about it later What coming out on Long Island in the 1970s and being taken in by Provincetown's queer community taught her about survival The lesbian safe sex handbooks she helped create and distribute during the AIDS crisis, and the friends she lost Why she waited until now, decades into her career, to finally step into her own spotlight If this episode resonated, send it to someone who's still waiting for the "right time" to tell their own story. Sometimes forty years of being everyone else's biggest supporter is exactly what gets you ready. Come hang out with us on social.

Most people think reinvention has to be a leap into the unknown. Anthony Luciano found his by doing the opposite. He just followed the current. In this episode of Love, Take Two, Anthony takes us through the version of success nobody puts on a mood board: getting fired three times from fashion jobs in his twenties, stitching costumes in the belly of a cruise ship for five years, and finally walking away from a design director job with no plan except to start making bags in his apartment the next morning. What followed was two decades of hand building a luxury handbag business from scratch. He landed in Bergdorf's and Neiman Marcus, all before the industry itself pulled the floor out from under him. He talks about watching retail collapse around him well before the pandemic finished the job, and the moment he realized he would rather close his own business than go work for someone else again. Anthony gets into what it actually took to rebuild, without treating it like a rebuild at all. No dramatic pivot, no five year plan. Just workshops in his studio one night a week that a Today Show segment turned into Sip and Stitch, the leather and wine experience that's now filled with strangers, celebrities, and his own extended family of regulars. He opens up about growing up the son of a carpenter and a homemaker in a small upstate New York town, watching his mother and grandmother sew and embroider by hand, and the tradition his late father kept alive for him: collecting pennies from the whole town so Anthony could put one into every bag he ever made, for luck. For Anthony, turning 60 didn't feel like an ending. It felt like proof that you don't have to fight your way upstream to end up exactly where you're supposed to be. This is a conversation about freedom, patience, and what happens when you stop treating a second act like it has to be a reinvention at all. Key Takeaways How getting fired three times in the fashion industry became the redirection that mattered most What five years of costuming cruise ships taught him about freedom over security The Today Show segment that turned a one night a week workshop into a full business overnight The penny his father collected from an entire town, and why every bag still carries one Why he believes the best second act isn't a leap. It's following the current you're already in If this episode resonated, send it to someone who needs a reminder that reinvention doesn't have to look like a comeback. Sometimes it just looks like paying attention to where you're already headed. Come hang out with us on social.