When I first started chasing, one of the things I found most awesome was the ability for a chaser to have a direct impact on climate data through reporting. Not just real-time, life-saving, dire straits kind of stuff, but post-event, detailed analysis submissions. Writing up a report, and sending that email along with the video. I found that often, forecasters were impressed and quite grateful for the extra effort. Back in those days, we didn't have any equipment at all, including a cell phone. So, all of my reports back in the day were always after the event had happened, which gave me time to gather the facts and present them in a very meticulous fashion. I was of course happy to contribute, but the simple fact my actions had helped shape the climate data (which was forever) was the main draw. For example, my very first tornado is officially the narrowest in Oklahoma during 1996, at a whopping ten yards. This is of course an estimate, as no survey was ever done, but still...that's kinda cool.
As the years started to go by, and I kept reporting with almost ridiculous vigor, I began developing a relationship with some of the southern region offices, most notably Norman, Wichita, and Amarillo. My correspondences were now moving beyond simple report submissions, they were back-and-forths consisting of follow-up questions and sometimes, just a "thank you" and small talk. I enjoyed working with the NWS, because I felt it was important that tornado climatology be as accurate as humanly possible. I still do.
As I learned more and became a better chaser, my reports improved as well. I was able to add details and answer questions that sometimes, were invaluable to the forecaster because it shed light on storm and tornado behavior in conjunction with real-time radar observations. One example was our tornado from June 4, 2005. There had been no tornado warning at the time of the tornado, and when I submitted my report and video, the WCM emailed me back to ask if I thought this had been a landspout tornado, because during the time their radar had shown no signs of a possible tornado. I explained to him that it was very much in fact a mesocyclonic tornado, and hypothesized that perhaps all the heavy precipitation and the storm being so close to the radar might have masked the circulation. For whatever reason though, he didn't seem to fully accept what we'd seen was a true supercell tornado. I always got the impression he felt like I'd stepped on his toes, for whatever reason, but all I was doing was simply providing the information as it was, to try and help him understand why their radar missed the tornado. In any case, our working relationship was never the same afterwards, and I don't think we've corresponded since.
There was a time, back when the energy center was all the rage in Norman, when many scientific/meteorological people began to scoff at lower-end tornadoes, as they pertained to overall tornado climatology. They began to include only F2 and stronger tornadoes in their data, when charting frequency maps and other climate information. The reasoning was that these weak and often brief events weren't significant enough to include. This is the same type of mindset observed with chasers, when they scoff at weak tornadoes by calling them "bird farts", a term I have always hated. Basically, the opinion that a tornadic event has to be "worthy" of scientific attention or inclusion or, to chasers, a photo or video. Maybe I'm just a "tornado apologist" or whatever, but I love the process of a tornado as much as the aesthetic beauty. Dust whirls don't bring me down.
Because of the growing dissension towards including weak/brief tornadoes in the overall data among some groups of both scientists and chasers, my attitude towards reporting them began to change. I was still very adamant about my reports, and thus a lot of effort went into them. As the weaker tornado reports began to be scoffed, I stopped caring so much about presenting them. All through this, the NWS was always cooperative, but I just began to think it was a waste of time. I'd had a few instances in the past where my reports were taken, but the tornadoes were never introduced to the storm data. I began to feel jilted, having put forth so much effort (when few other chasers did) only to have my reports seemingly ignored, as far as long-term data inclusion. I publicly spoke about my feelings on a few grouplists and forums, and the overall reaction, at least from the scientific community, was to stop whining and not let a few bad experiences stop me from reporting.
I went back and forth over the next few years about whether I wanted to continue reporting the tornadoes I saw post-event. By this time we'd had cell phones in the field for years, and always made real-time reports when we could get a signal (some of these proved to evoke negative responses/experiences as well), but my desire to spend the time putting together post-event reports was waning. Another big reason (along with my perception the interest on the part of the NWS just wasn't there like it had been before) was the fact that by then, there were so many chasers out there reporting that it seemed everything was already known about by the time I called it in. Almost every event I called in was met with "we are aware" or something to that effect. In all actuality this was a good thing, because it meant tornadoes were being reported far more often and accurately than in the past. The down side to all of it was, it was making my old, meticulous, post-event reports obsolete.
Fast forward to today. I've long since stopped sending in video post-event, mostly because it's more of a pain in the butt to create a DVD versus a simple VHS tape that only required one step for the recording process. But also it's because, like so many other things that were vital when I started chasing, it's simply no longer needed. For several years, I've been over the novelty of personal enjoyment from putting post-event reports together. Between my lack of interest and the lack of necessity, it was a natural process of extinction. Sometimes I think back to those old days and miss them, but then my current day laziness kicks in and I'm glad I no longer bother. I'm happy to contribute real-time reports when we can, and in today's chasing world those are really all that matter.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Crawl Before You Walk (or not)
There was a time when I was vehemently against anything business-related regarding chasing. Selling video in any form other than personal productions, participating in television programs, or operating chase tours. My stance was that chasing should be an endeavor of passion, not money, otherwise its purity is tarnished. The downfall of this opinion was, it was a perfectly acceptable attitude for myself, but didn't fairly translate over to people in general. I was blinded by emotion and passion, a narrow-minded individual who felt my own perception of what chasing should be was good enough for everyone else too. Arrogance, basically.
Over the years, I started to understand this, and gradually backed off my very public and frequent musings on the topic. I began to understand why others would want to pursue chasing as a potential profit-generating activity, despite still maintaining that it was not for me personally. After even more time, I began to come around to the idea that perhaps Bridget and I ourselves could benefit from any revenue-creating chase projects. Though we were novices, we were open-minded, and eventually got involved with a few resourceful individuals, who, over time, have helped us generate an occasional sale through various means.
We don't chase to make money, and quite often we don't actually attempt to make money, but it's nice to know we're in a situation that creates the potential for profit if we're willing to do some extra legwork. It's taken years, but we have more or less "caught up" to the world in this regard. Even more recently, new avenues of chase-related business opportunities have risen, and we've taken advantage. It's created an extra sense of financial security, as it applies to chasing, the value of which has only been magnified the past few years, as gas prices have risen and our life situation demands more of our income. But even though I've finally come around to the idea of chase-related business ventures and their potential value, there are still some related things that I continue to find ridiculous and worthless.
Many businesses have what are known as "store fronts" that are nothing more than a professional-style website template with generic links. It's basically a digital billboard, which serves as advertising far more than providing information. What I find eternally bothersome are the ones related to chasing. Obvious pro-style, pro-built sites that were designed specifically for presentation and the "professional" look, to impress visitors and potential clients. The issue I have is not with the sites themselves, but what they represent. What good is a snazzy website dedicated to a storm chasing team, if there's no product? Some of these sites have "about us" pages that somebody obviously put a lot of time and effort into. They read like fortune 500 CEO bio pages, complete with professional studio photographs of team members dressed to the nines as well as individual job descriptions/titles. Like a corporation website. But when you dig a little deeper, you don't find much.
Various websites of this nature sometimes advertise chase tours, and you can find a wealth of well-designed pages with information on what to expect, what to bring, and - most importantly - how much it costs, The bios are there, the FAQs are there, and the schedule charts are there. What's not there is much if any actual evidence that they've seen tornadoes or have satisfied customers. Now, if chasing in a group and needing each individual member to serve a sole, specific purpose is how people want to chase, more power to them. But when there's nothing there beyond that, why the need for the flashy website? What's the product? What's the service?
The obvious answer to that question is video, and the supplying of said video to various news and other media outlets. But that doesn't include private individuals who are often directed to these sites via various forms of promotion. What's the reason for driving Joe Public traffic to a website that's clearly geared for professionals? And why are there not several, clear-cut examples of a group's ability to provide the services they claim to? I wouldn't be bothered as much by the lack of quality, unquestionable tornado images and videos if there hadn't been such care and detail spent on the lesser portions of the site. To me, this says a bunch of folks who have obvious IT and media connections are having fun with their toys and fledgling buisness venture, while not really succeeding at at. It's more important to establish a cool web presence than to establish you actually know how to find tornadoes consistently. I've touched on this before.
I keep revisiting this topic because it keeps astounding me. I'm continually amazed at how much effort people are willing to put forth to create the image of something while not actually becoming that something. It's really a simple case of crawl before you walk; build your resume first then worry about how to present it to the world. I don't understand how flash and smoke-n-mirrors can trump experience and proof of experience. I don't get building a website or producing a video or starting a gallery before you have captured enough quality material to fill them with. It seems people are in such a rush to be accepted as something, with not a thought for demonstrating they actually deserve the title. My own website is a dinosaur by current standards, and will never win any awards for presentation or ease of use. But the one thing that stands out about it is, when compared to many new "storm chasing" websites, it's full of examples of tornadoes I've personally intercepted. Of detailed accounts explaining how those images were obtained. My website doesn't speak for me through style. It speaks for me through content.
Was a time when people chased simply because they loved to chase storms. I know many still do, but probably even more chase for reasons I still (obviously) don't understand. It does no harm to myself or others, but to the faint of mind it can be fairly misleading. To this I say "whose fault is that?" The reason these popup sites and chase teams and weather companies keep sprouting up is because they have an audience. It's just that somewhere along the line, building the audience became more important than building credentials. And then eventually, credentials weren't even necessary. Strange indeed.
Over the years, I started to understand this, and gradually backed off my very public and frequent musings on the topic. I began to understand why others would want to pursue chasing as a potential profit-generating activity, despite still maintaining that it was not for me personally. After even more time, I began to come around to the idea that perhaps Bridget and I ourselves could benefit from any revenue-creating chase projects. Though we were novices, we were open-minded, and eventually got involved with a few resourceful individuals, who, over time, have helped us generate an occasional sale through various means.
We don't chase to make money, and quite often we don't actually attempt to make money, but it's nice to know we're in a situation that creates the potential for profit if we're willing to do some extra legwork. It's taken years, but we have more or less "caught up" to the world in this regard. Even more recently, new avenues of chase-related business opportunities have risen, and we've taken advantage. It's created an extra sense of financial security, as it applies to chasing, the value of which has only been magnified the past few years, as gas prices have risen and our life situation demands more of our income. But even though I've finally come around to the idea of chase-related business ventures and their potential value, there are still some related things that I continue to find ridiculous and worthless.
Many businesses have what are known as "store fronts" that are nothing more than a professional-style website template with generic links. It's basically a digital billboard, which serves as advertising far more than providing information. What I find eternally bothersome are the ones related to chasing. Obvious pro-style, pro-built sites that were designed specifically for presentation and the "professional" look, to impress visitors and potential clients. The issue I have is not with the sites themselves, but what they represent. What good is a snazzy website dedicated to a storm chasing team, if there's no product? Some of these sites have "about us" pages that somebody obviously put a lot of time and effort into. They read like fortune 500 CEO bio pages, complete with professional studio photographs of team members dressed to the nines as well as individual job descriptions/titles. Like a corporation website. But when you dig a little deeper, you don't find much.
Various websites of this nature sometimes advertise chase tours, and you can find a wealth of well-designed pages with information on what to expect, what to bring, and - most importantly - how much it costs, The bios are there, the FAQs are there, and the schedule charts are there. What's not there is much if any actual evidence that they've seen tornadoes or have satisfied customers. Now, if chasing in a group and needing each individual member to serve a sole, specific purpose is how people want to chase, more power to them. But when there's nothing there beyond that, why the need for the flashy website? What's the product? What's the service?
The obvious answer to that question is video, and the supplying of said video to various news and other media outlets. But that doesn't include private individuals who are often directed to these sites via various forms of promotion. What's the reason for driving Joe Public traffic to a website that's clearly geared for professionals? And why are there not several, clear-cut examples of a group's ability to provide the services they claim to? I wouldn't be bothered as much by the lack of quality, unquestionable tornado images and videos if there hadn't been such care and detail spent on the lesser portions of the site. To me, this says a bunch of folks who have obvious IT and media connections are having fun with their toys and fledgling buisness venture, while not really succeeding at at. It's more important to establish a cool web presence than to establish you actually know how to find tornadoes consistently. I've touched on this before.
I keep revisiting this topic because it keeps astounding me. I'm continually amazed at how much effort people are willing to put forth to create the image of something while not actually becoming that something. It's really a simple case of crawl before you walk; build your resume first then worry about how to present it to the world. I don't understand how flash and smoke-n-mirrors can trump experience and proof of experience. I don't get building a website or producing a video or starting a gallery before you have captured enough quality material to fill them with. It seems people are in such a rush to be accepted as something, with not a thought for demonstrating they actually deserve the title. My own website is a dinosaur by current standards, and will never win any awards for presentation or ease of use. But the one thing that stands out about it is, when compared to many new "storm chasing" websites, it's full of examples of tornadoes I've personally intercepted. Of detailed accounts explaining how those images were obtained. My website doesn't speak for me through style. It speaks for me through content.
Was a time when people chased simply because they loved to chase storms. I know many still do, but probably even more chase for reasons I still (obviously) don't understand. It does no harm to myself or others, but to the faint of mind it can be fairly misleading. To this I say "whose fault is that?" The reason these popup sites and chase teams and weather companies keep sprouting up is because they have an audience. It's just that somewhere along the line, building the audience became more important than building credentials. And then eventually, credentials weren't even necessary. Strange indeed.
Monday, December 17, 2012
A Whore No More
I've been making DVDs since 2004. During the years since, I've experimented with several different types of marketing gimmicks. With the chaser DVD market being so small, I've always tried to discover ways to expand that demographic. Partly because I've needed the money much of the time, and partly because advertising/marketing has always been an interest of mine (though I seem to suck at it). Throughout my experiences, I've learned two things: (1) my ideas don't work, but (2) it's not because they're all necessarily bad.
I've spent year after year scratching my head, trying to understand what I've been doing wrong. Despite its small target audience, the chaser highlights video seems a product poised to expand its viewership, with the right promotional backing. I've done discount pricing, worldwide free shipping (real free shipping, not the shipping absorbed into the unit price), multiple item discounts, and even a box set discount. I've promoted on social media, weather forums, this blog, and even physical advertising with decals on my vehicle. My videos have been pushed by others as well on several different mediums. All to no avail. I was to the point where I thought perhaps the fly in the ointment was actually me. After all, there seemed to be no other explanation for my sales to falter while others' offering similar products flourished. But these days, I don't believe I'm relevant enough to chasing for that to even factor in. So, what's left?
My conclusion, after years of analyzing, researching, and idea crunching, is simple. The gimmicks, promotions, and other marketing ploys fail simply because the people who buy my DVDs do so because they want the DVDs, period. They aren't attracted by flashy sales or silly promotions or discounts. They're attracted to the product itself. All this time I've felt I was failing to reach my maximum audience, but I wasn't. I've been reaching it the entire time. It's just very small.
So from that, I've decided to pull all of the bells and whistles and extras from my DVD sales page. It was a lot of extra work for me, with no payoff. I don't regret doing it, because I believed at the time it was the right idea. I believed I could expand my audience purely through exposure. But another thing I've learned through internet marketing is, the notion that increased traffic equals increased sales is a myth. Numbers don't count unless they are within your demographic, and the chaser video is a product that naturally attracts its own audience, with minimal promotion. The type of people who want a discount, a sale, a gimmick, aren't the kind of people who will buy a chaser DVD...at least one of mine.
Perhaps the best part of this is, I no longer have to promote my videos, with the exception of future new releases. Almost anyone who would purchase a video knows they exist, and those who don't, will likely find them through internet searches on "tornadoes" or "tornado videos" or "tornado chasing websites". I'll admit, I do feel a twinge of actual shame each time I promote my product, because it's against my nature to "sell out" or "whore" anything. But when trying to expand your audience, this is a must. I felt the shame, but at the same time thought to myself: "I have to at least try." Fortunately, I no longer have to do that. The good news for you all is, no more annoying posts from me about DVDs.
I've spent year after year scratching my head, trying to understand what I've been doing wrong. Despite its small target audience, the chaser highlights video seems a product poised to expand its viewership, with the right promotional backing. I've done discount pricing, worldwide free shipping (real free shipping, not the shipping absorbed into the unit price), multiple item discounts, and even a box set discount. I've promoted on social media, weather forums, this blog, and even physical advertising with decals on my vehicle. My videos have been pushed by others as well on several different mediums. All to no avail. I was to the point where I thought perhaps the fly in the ointment was actually me. After all, there seemed to be no other explanation for my sales to falter while others' offering similar products flourished. But these days, I don't believe I'm relevant enough to chasing for that to even factor in. So, what's left?
My conclusion, after years of analyzing, researching, and idea crunching, is simple. The gimmicks, promotions, and other marketing ploys fail simply because the people who buy my DVDs do so because they want the DVDs, period. They aren't attracted by flashy sales or silly promotions or discounts. They're attracted to the product itself. All this time I've felt I was failing to reach my maximum audience, but I wasn't. I've been reaching it the entire time. It's just very small.
So from that, I've decided to pull all of the bells and whistles and extras from my DVD sales page. It was a lot of extra work for me, with no payoff. I don't regret doing it, because I believed at the time it was the right idea. I believed I could expand my audience purely through exposure. But another thing I've learned through internet marketing is, the notion that increased traffic equals increased sales is a myth. Numbers don't count unless they are within your demographic, and the chaser video is a product that naturally attracts its own audience, with minimal promotion. The type of people who want a discount, a sale, a gimmick, aren't the kind of people who will buy a chaser DVD...at least one of mine.
Perhaps the best part of this is, I no longer have to promote my videos, with the exception of future new releases. Almost anyone who would purchase a video knows they exist, and those who don't, will likely find them through internet searches on "tornadoes" or "tornado videos" or "tornado chasing websites". I'll admit, I do feel a twinge of actual shame each time I promote my product, because it's against my nature to "sell out" or "whore" anything. But when trying to expand your audience, this is a must. I felt the shame, but at the same time thought to myself: "I have to at least try." Fortunately, I no longer have to do that. The good news for you all is, no more annoying posts from me about DVDs.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Best of Both Worlds
Anyone who's followed my chasing exploits or knows me personally can tell you I've never been a big fan of technology. Not that I abhor it completely, I've just never had the mind for it, and thus, have never felt entirely comfortable with it. Obviously over the past several years, I've been exposed to the ever-changing technological advancements used in chasing, be it by friends or even something I myself discovered. But the super-techno setups that many chasers use today have just never been my thing. However, the times eventually force a person to keep up or be left behind.
Bridget has a knack for multi-tasking and has always been good with computers. Naturally, once she and I formed our alliance and created our own chase setup, a laptop computer was the major component. It worked well, and despite my complete technical retardation, Bridget managed to keep things running smoothly which allowed me to just do what I do. One thing we never did though, mainly due to my laziness, was construct a permanent setup inside the car for everything we use during a chase. Phones and scanners are small and easy enough to place just about anywhere while still being out of the way yet functional, but the computer itself was always the issue. The one we use is rather large, and as many laptops do, tends to get very warm on the bottom side during use. Because we've never had a permanent mount, the computer is always in Bridget's lap, which can occasionally be a problem.
We'd been loyal Sprint customers since 2009, because in our experience, their mobile internet was second to none (at least when we signed our first contract). For reasons I won't go into now, we had a rift with them towards the end of the Spring chase season. This meant we were without a mobile internet provider, but because it was the beginning of Summer, we didn't worry about it. I'd always chased without a computer during my formative years, and am quite comfortable going out minus mobile internet. However, when the Fall season rolled around, we naturally sought out an alternative to the Sprint mobile internet we'd always known on the road. That alternative was my little Huawei-M835 Bumble Bee phone. Technically a smart phone, but in my hands, more like a "good enough to pass" phone.
We chased southern Oklahoma on October 13, during which we decided to test the bee phone out and see what it could do. Because my provider is MetroPCS, we didn't expect much coverage off the main roads. But surprisingly, the gaps were smaller than anticipated, and since I incorporate visual chasing into a large majority of my style, we didn't need it to run a dozen sites at once. Bridge simply pulled up two windows, one with an NWS radar, and the other with surface data. Between what I could feel and see in the sky, a radar update only once every 15-20 minutes was sufficient information.
On our return journey that night, Bridget and I discussed how the convenience of a smart phone mixed perfectly with my simplistic chase style. With a major provider and better coverage, the smart phone completely eliminates the need for a bulky laptop. Bridget still brings the laptop on chases, but it's simply for entertainment and to work on homework assignments. Even when we had mobile internet, 90% of the usage was for those two purposes. A few glances at surface data and radar every hour or so is all I really want. Constant information beyond that, as has been proven time and again throughout the years, messes with my mojo. I don't like a lot of information once I leave with a forecast; the major changes I'll either see or feel if my target was good. Otherwise, I missed the mark so severely, constant data would do nothing more than serve as a continuous reminder of what we're missing....and who needs that drag?
So moving forward, we look to downsize our physical equipment space and consolidate into a more basic setup, while still maintaining a slight technological advantage. The perfect mix of Bridget's love for technical/electronic devices and my passion for pure visual chasing along with a NOAA radio backdrop. We'll see how this works for us in 2013.
Bridget has a knack for multi-tasking and has always been good with computers. Naturally, once she and I formed our alliance and created our own chase setup, a laptop computer was the major component. It worked well, and despite my complete technical retardation, Bridget managed to keep things running smoothly which allowed me to just do what I do. One thing we never did though, mainly due to my laziness, was construct a permanent setup inside the car for everything we use during a chase. Phones and scanners are small and easy enough to place just about anywhere while still being out of the way yet functional, but the computer itself was always the issue. The one we use is rather large, and as many laptops do, tends to get very warm on the bottom side during use. Because we've never had a permanent mount, the computer is always in Bridget's lap, which can occasionally be a problem.
We'd been loyal Sprint customers since 2009, because in our experience, their mobile internet was second to none (at least when we signed our first contract). For reasons I won't go into now, we had a rift with them towards the end of the Spring chase season. This meant we were without a mobile internet provider, but because it was the beginning of Summer, we didn't worry about it. I'd always chased without a computer during my formative years, and am quite comfortable going out minus mobile internet. However, when the Fall season rolled around, we naturally sought out an alternative to the Sprint mobile internet we'd always known on the road. That alternative was my little Huawei-M835 Bumble Bee phone. Technically a smart phone, but in my hands, more like a "good enough to pass" phone.
We chased southern Oklahoma on October 13, during which we decided to test the bee phone out and see what it could do. Because my provider is MetroPCS, we didn't expect much coverage off the main roads. But surprisingly, the gaps were smaller than anticipated, and since I incorporate visual chasing into a large majority of my style, we didn't need it to run a dozen sites at once. Bridge simply pulled up two windows, one with an NWS radar, and the other with surface data. Between what I could feel and see in the sky, a radar update only once every 15-20 minutes was sufficient information.
On our return journey that night, Bridget and I discussed how the convenience of a smart phone mixed perfectly with my simplistic chase style. With a major provider and better coverage, the smart phone completely eliminates the need for a bulky laptop. Bridget still brings the laptop on chases, but it's simply for entertainment and to work on homework assignments. Even when we had mobile internet, 90% of the usage was for those two purposes. A few glances at surface data and radar every hour or so is all I really want. Constant information beyond that, as has been proven time and again throughout the years, messes with my mojo. I don't like a lot of information once I leave with a forecast; the major changes I'll either see or feel if my target was good. Otherwise, I missed the mark so severely, constant data would do nothing more than serve as a continuous reminder of what we're missing....and who needs that drag?
So moving forward, we look to downsize our physical equipment space and consolidate into a more basic setup, while still maintaining a slight technological advantage. The perfect mix of Bridget's love for technical/electronic devices and my passion for pure visual chasing along with a NOAA radio backdrop. We'll see how this works for us in 2013.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Perspective (You Can't Change the Facts)
One thing that has always bothered me about the new generation of chasers is, it's become less and less about the storms and more and more about them. It's all to do with how great they are, how cool they are, and how amazing their forecasts are (that never seem to precede those from the SPC). Chasers today are sometimes even "calling" their chase before they hit the road. This would be like Babe Ruth pointing his bat towards the left field wall before swinging. Boisterous, pompous, and plain old-fashioned spoiled. But at least Babe's predictions were (1) based on actual ability and (2) often accurate.
Continuing with this topic, one thing that really stands out to me is the perception of how a given season/year was. Good, bad, average, amazing. There was a time when chasers agreed on what a tornado is. That's long gone. Now they can't even agree on what type of season it was. Why? Simple, because the "me" generation has even made something as pure and "actual" as climatology about them as well. It's no longer about what type of storm season it was, it's about what type of storm season it was for them. As if their personal accomplishments are what I'm really asking about when posing the question, or defying by making a general observation. Too often, when an obviously downer year is being discussed, some individual will pipe up with the "it wasn't as bad as people say" or "I don't know why people say so-and-so year was crappy" lines, both of which are clear indications that the person(s) uttering them had a good year personally. And therein lies the perspective problem.
If a person is able to chase anything he or she wishes, by the logic of self-perspective, a bad year is not possible, because you chased everything. This is of course folly, as bad luck and stale weather patterns can ruin a year for even the most able-bodied chaser. But often that seems to be the case in situations where one chaser speaks out against the perception that a given storm year was bad. And that's a skewed perception, because it only allows for one person's point-of-view. Chasers seem to be lost to the fact they are able, in some years, to encounter much more luck than many others, creating what, for them, is a pretty decent season inside an overall crap year. This is consistent with the "me me me" line of thinking; they didn't simply luck out more than everyone else, they were better than everyone else, because of their skills. They are in the minority, but don't see it as good fortune. They see it as superiority.
Back in 2006, I had one of my best seasons ever, as far as chase-to-severe storm ratio. But overall, 2006 was one of the worst Plains chase seasons of all-time. There is no denying this fact. Because I understand that, I have always said "I had one of my best years in 2006, even though, overall, it was one of the worst seasons ever." A generation "me" guy, describing the same year, would say "I don't understand why everyone keeps saying 2006 was so bad. I did great." An example in the other direction: "I had one of my worst years ever in 2011, even though, overall, it was a fantastic year." The gen me person: "I don't understand why everyone thinks 2011 was so great, it sucked for me."
Is any of this really important? Of course not. Few offerings on this blog ever have been. But it's another example of how many of today's chasers are about themselves and not about storms, or in this case, even climatology. I sat for a month watching a ridge destroy half of April and most of May; 2012 was, overall, a very disappointing year. Many of the dates people point to in debate of this fact were nocturnal events, or were fluke/surprise events that no one expected. Granted, I didn't take advantage of some early setups because I either made mistakes or didn't chase, but even through that, I considered 2012 a decent year to that point. But after the April 14 event, the Plains shut down. April 27-28 offered very marginal setups that busted, and April 30 was an after-dark event. May was a no-show until the 19th, which even then, was a complete fluke that nobody saw coming (even those who were right beneath those storms). The 25th was another nocturnal event, and by then, most of May was wasted. Regardless of how a person did themselves, you can't tell me with a straight face that April 15 - May 31, 2012 wasn't a wretched stretch for convective pursuit. Chasers worth their salt who saw all (or even some) of the events in that period worthy of mention consider themselves fortunate to have been so successful, because overall the year was shit. And then there are the small minority who have mistaken their own good fortune during a crappy year for superior talent during a great one. Whether they gleaned that good fortune by having more resources or making good decisions on the days that counted, good fortune it was. Nothing more.
Continuing with this topic, one thing that really stands out to me is the perception of how a given season/year was. Good, bad, average, amazing. There was a time when chasers agreed on what a tornado is. That's long gone. Now they can't even agree on what type of season it was. Why? Simple, because the "me" generation has even made something as pure and "actual" as climatology about them as well. It's no longer about what type of storm season it was, it's about what type of storm season it was for them. As if their personal accomplishments are what I'm really asking about when posing the question, or defying by making a general observation. Too often, when an obviously downer year is being discussed, some individual will pipe up with the "it wasn't as bad as people say" or "I don't know why people say so-and-so year was crappy" lines, both of which are clear indications that the person(s) uttering them had a good year personally. And therein lies the perspective problem.
If a person is able to chase anything he or she wishes, by the logic of self-perspective, a bad year is not possible, because you chased everything. This is of course folly, as bad luck and stale weather patterns can ruin a year for even the most able-bodied chaser. But often that seems to be the case in situations where one chaser speaks out against the perception that a given storm year was bad. And that's a skewed perception, because it only allows for one person's point-of-view. Chasers seem to be lost to the fact they are able, in some years, to encounter much more luck than many others, creating what, for them, is a pretty decent season inside an overall crap year. This is consistent with the "me me me" line of thinking; they didn't simply luck out more than everyone else, they were better than everyone else, because of their skills. They are in the minority, but don't see it as good fortune. They see it as superiority.
Back in 2006, I had one of my best seasons ever, as far as chase-to-severe storm ratio. But overall, 2006 was one of the worst Plains chase seasons of all-time. There is no denying this fact. Because I understand that, I have always said "I had one of my best years in 2006, even though, overall, it was one of the worst seasons ever." A generation "me" guy, describing the same year, would say "I don't understand why everyone keeps saying 2006 was so bad. I did great." An example in the other direction: "I had one of my worst years ever in 2011, even though, overall, it was a fantastic year." The gen me person: "I don't understand why everyone thinks 2011 was so great, it sucked for me."
Is any of this really important? Of course not. Few offerings on this blog ever have been. But it's another example of how many of today's chasers are about themselves and not about storms, or in this case, even climatology. I sat for a month watching a ridge destroy half of April and most of May; 2012 was, overall, a very disappointing year. Many of the dates people point to in debate of this fact were nocturnal events, or were fluke/surprise events that no one expected. Granted, I didn't take advantage of some early setups because I either made mistakes or didn't chase, but even through that, I considered 2012 a decent year to that point. But after the April 14 event, the Plains shut down. April 27-28 offered very marginal setups that busted, and April 30 was an after-dark event. May was a no-show until the 19th, which even then, was a complete fluke that nobody saw coming (even those who were right beneath those storms). The 25th was another nocturnal event, and by then, most of May was wasted. Regardless of how a person did themselves, you can't tell me with a straight face that April 15 - May 31, 2012 wasn't a wretched stretch for convective pursuit. Chasers worth their salt who saw all (or even some) of the events in that period worthy of mention consider themselves fortunate to have been so successful, because overall the year was shit. And then there are the small minority who have mistaken their own good fortune during a crappy year for superior talent during a great one. Whether they gleaned that good fortune by having more resources or making good decisions on the days that counted, good fortune it was. Nothing more.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Moving Forward
Well, 2012 wasn't quite the year I had envisioned. On many levels I would describe it as bittersweet. It wasn't horrible, and it wasn't spectacular. Maybe most of all, it really wasn't enough. I'm thankful for what we did see and capture, but the rug was pulled out from under far too soon. Our season seemed to be taken away just after it got started. And following a great year which we missed out on with a dull one we sat through waiting and waiting, isn't the double act I wanted. But every time I start to feel poopy or sorry for myself, I think back to the late 80s and what chasers back then endured...and I feel better (and thankful).
I hate not seeing many tornadoes or having many tornado days, but what bothers me most of all is, for the first time since I started making DVDs, I won't be releasing a new one after a two-year absence. No, it will be at least another year before DVD #7 sees the light of day (and I hope it's not any longer; that would indicate a dreadful 2013). I'm starting to feel like the Def Leppard of chasing, with an ever-growing gap between my last work and whatever is forthcoming coupled with no standout intercepts the past few years (April 14 was awesome, but our results are just one set in a sea of video from this event). But what can I do about any of this? Nothing.
I've been taking a fairly huge break from "chasing life" (by my standards), not having done or said much at all regarding my passion, minus a few random social media musings. Bridget and I have been busy just living our lives, she working ever-closer to completing her education while I continue to churn away at work. But I miss it. And I think it's because chasing, largely the past year, has missed us.
Unless something completely insane happens weather-wise, 2012 will go down in the record books as the least-chased year of my career. It's December 7 as I write this, and we've chased 10 times in 2012. That's ten. What's even worse, it's not because we couldn't chase more. It's because there was nothing to chase. I'd been suspecting, upon checking models in the few days after April 14, that we were possibly looking at an extended ridge type of pattern, bordering on catastrophic proportions. I hoped that the models would eventually change, eventually break this ridge down and show something more typical of the season. But each day I looked, and each day the ridge persisted. I looked at the calendar one day and two weeks had gone by....and there it still was. By the second week of May it was obvious that 2012, largely, was going to be an - I hate to say - epic failure of a season.
I suppose part of me took comfort in knowing the reason we'd not see tornadoes in 2012 wasn't because we couldn't chase, but because there simply were no tornadoes. Then again, I was hungry, and April 14 had just wet our appetites. It was like being given a bite of steak, and then having the rest taken away from you. I've not had two years like 2011-2012 back to back before. But when I look back over my career, it's littered with instances where one tiny mistake or choice could've changed what ended up being a great year. So 2011-2012 is the Universe getting even with me, by its pure unadulterated, unbiased randomness. I've never been the best, seen the most, been the greatest, but I've always been consistent. Even with the past few years, my overall body of work still reflects this consistency....but I admit, when you isolate just the past few seasons, they cast quite a blemish on that steadiness. But oh well, shit happens.
So yeah, I'm quietly excited about the future. Hell, what chaser worth their salt isn't always excited about the upcoming season? We'll move forward, prepare the best we know how, and hope that fate and a little luck will help guide my decision-making (and the weather itself) into a bountiful campaign in 2013.
I hate not seeing many tornadoes or having many tornado days, but what bothers me most of all is, for the first time since I started making DVDs, I won't be releasing a new one after a two-year absence. No, it will be at least another year before DVD #7 sees the light of day (and I hope it's not any longer; that would indicate a dreadful 2013). I'm starting to feel like the Def Leppard of chasing, with an ever-growing gap between my last work and whatever is forthcoming coupled with no standout intercepts the past few years (April 14 was awesome, but our results are just one set in a sea of video from this event). But what can I do about any of this? Nothing.
I've been taking a fairly huge break from "chasing life" (by my standards), not having done or said much at all regarding my passion, minus a few random social media musings. Bridget and I have been busy just living our lives, she working ever-closer to completing her education while I continue to churn away at work. But I miss it. And I think it's because chasing, largely the past year, has missed us.
Unless something completely insane happens weather-wise, 2012 will go down in the record books as the least-chased year of my career. It's December 7 as I write this, and we've chased 10 times in 2012. That's ten. What's even worse, it's not because we couldn't chase more. It's because there was nothing to chase. I'd been suspecting, upon checking models in the few days after April 14, that we were possibly looking at an extended ridge type of pattern, bordering on catastrophic proportions. I hoped that the models would eventually change, eventually break this ridge down and show something more typical of the season. But each day I looked, and each day the ridge persisted. I looked at the calendar one day and two weeks had gone by....and there it still was. By the second week of May it was obvious that 2012, largely, was going to be an - I hate to say - epic failure of a season.
I suppose part of me took comfort in knowing the reason we'd not see tornadoes in 2012 wasn't because we couldn't chase, but because there simply were no tornadoes. Then again, I was hungry, and April 14 had just wet our appetites. It was like being given a bite of steak, and then having the rest taken away from you. I've not had two years like 2011-2012 back to back before. But when I look back over my career, it's littered with instances where one tiny mistake or choice could've changed what ended up being a great year. So 2011-2012 is the Universe getting even with me, by its pure unadulterated, unbiased randomness. I've never been the best, seen the most, been the greatest, but I've always been consistent. Even with the past few years, my overall body of work still reflects this consistency....but I admit, when you isolate just the past few seasons, they cast quite a blemish on that steadiness. But oh well, shit happens.
So yeah, I'm quietly excited about the future. Hell, what chaser worth their salt isn't always excited about the upcoming season? We'll move forward, prepare the best we know how, and hope that fate and a little luck will help guide my decision-making (and the weather itself) into a bountiful campaign in 2013.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
The Debris Show: BuhBye
We decided to end the show a while back, with one last, impromptu episode, that generated little excitement or even mild interest: a good indication that we'd waited too long to say so long. I'll admit, I was very surprised by the lack of response, but it didn't upset me because I had been ready to quit for a long while. We had our small group of die-hard loyalists (which kept the show going the last year), and not much else. The numbers were telling. People just didn't care anymore. Neither did we.
Like everything in both chasing and the internet in general, The Debris Show came and went in just a few short years. The idea in 2009 was a novelty, spear-headed by Steve Miller OK and myself. It probably always had a limited shelf-life, but it was more to do with people than technology. Live streaming, somehow, is still wildly-popular, despite the fact few make truly decent money at it consistently and it's still en vogue to stream without audio. No, what killed the show was people. Or the lack thereof.
As chasing continues to devolve into a business-first, passion/hobby-distant second endeavor, the personable aspects continue to disappear. It began with the demise of grouplists like WX-CHASE, followed by the decline of open forums like Stormtrack. As more and more people began to forsake chasing solely for personal pleasure by attempting to turn a profit, people stopped being so open with one another. Nobody wanted to discuss details or targets, for fear the "cheaters" or "followers" would use this information to "steal" targets (a notion I've always considered ridiculous and a little pompous). This was, after all, years before the implementation of the often-maligned Spotter Network.
But as the intimacy of chasing itself was slowly fading, social media came along and picked up the slack. This served two purposes. First, it brought back a popular medium for chasers to once again interact, and secondly, this eventually led to open flame wars, as the internet always does, but on a brand new level. This coincided with the influx of newbies who knew little about the weather or how to chase, but could do 13 things at once in a vehicle. The result? A whole lotta people running around with resources to find the storms but virtually no experience in knowing what to do with one once they got to it. The infighting, the gimmicks, the gadgets, everything but chasing tornadoes. Social media and technological advancements had created a chasing scene more akin to Jerry Springer than NOVA. Purists and traditionalists like me hated it, but found it entertaining at the same time. And the Debris Show was born.
I've always said, especially to haters, the only reason the show ever existed was because the chasing community allowed it to. All we did was report on what other people were saying and doing. We never sat around and dreamed up bullshit stories to recruit viewers. Nope, everything ever seen and heard on the show was the direct result of someone else's actions. We were basically chasing's TMZ
But money matters most to most people, and as that continued to weed out passion, curiosity, and other motives for chasing storms, people once again cared less about the silly stuff and instead chose to focus on their business ventures. Once in a while we could bait a big name into making an appearance via phone, but it was always on the condition of pimping their products or services. No major players in the chasing world ever wanted any part of the show for the show's sake. We even had one big name chaser come to us and ask to be a guest sometime on a future show (which we very eagerly-approved), but this was followed by a series of particularly-racy episodes. We never heard from the person again, and I've always felt either this person decided on his own, or was told by others being associated with us would hurt their reputation.
The few times I wanted to maybe take the show in a deeper, more serious direction, I reminded myself that a dozen shows like that already existed. What made the show was the fact it wasn't politically-correct, it wasn't technically sound, and it wasn't educational. It was something chasing had never seen or had, but needed....at least in my opinion. Basically, the Debris Show was the show I'd always wanted to watch myself. But no one ever created it. So we did.
Money and commerce have been the driving force behind the popularity of live streaming, not entertainment. People, obviously, will sit and watch a silent stream of less-then-stellar weather for six straight hours, hundreds at a time. But few will tune in to see real live personality, insight, debate, and emotion. Because, for the time being, those simply don't sell. So most people aren't interested. They'd rather focus on things that make money, self-promote, and further the myth they actually matter and stand out in a world saturated with gimmicks and re-hashed ideas based on original ideas that also did nothing. In short, nobody has time for fun anymore. For passion. For anything not drenched in the almighty dollar.
I feel the same way, except I'm not about money. I'm just realizing that chasers today are fucking boring. They're like NASCAR drivers. Back in the day, there were personalities. There was nerdiness, rough-around-the-edges imperfection, and most of all - humility. Chasers today are cardboard cutouts, light versions of the real chasers they came up idolizing. They all look alike. They all dress alike. They're all white. They're all 20-something. They're based in IT and that is the draw to chasing for them. They all use every possible advantage to garner as much ROI as possible. Chasing isn't a passion or even a hobby to them. It's an investment. A venture. They have gimmick vehicles, gimmick agendas, gimmick associations. They have everything except a recognizable, discernible passion to chase tornadoes.
There's simply nothing left of the chasing world to make fun of that we haven't already covered. And by now, overall, this group of people is so uninteresting, there's no desire on our part to even try to keep on top of what they're doing. We don't care.
So in closing, I'd like to thank everyone who watched, especially those who called in or were guests on the show or otherwise participated regularly. We got to know some of you through doing the show, and we still consider those people friends. Last, and absolutely least, I'd like to thank all the people who create such needless, pathetic drama, because without all of you, there never would've been a Debris Show. I had hoped someone else would take the torch and go forward, but clearly nobody wants to. I guess chasing's changed so much to the "pro" aspect, there's just not time to let your hair down and be real for a few minutes (and not get paid for it).
Like everything in both chasing and the internet in general, The Debris Show came and went in just a few short years. The idea in 2009 was a novelty, spear-headed by Steve Miller OK and myself. It probably always had a limited shelf-life, but it was more to do with people than technology. Live streaming, somehow, is still wildly-popular, despite the fact few make truly decent money at it consistently and it's still en vogue to stream without audio. No, what killed the show was people. Or the lack thereof.
As chasing continues to devolve into a business-first, passion/hobby-distant second endeavor, the personable aspects continue to disappear. It began with the demise of grouplists like WX-CHASE, followed by the decline of open forums like Stormtrack. As more and more people began to forsake chasing solely for personal pleasure by attempting to turn a profit, people stopped being so open with one another. Nobody wanted to discuss details or targets, for fear the "cheaters" or "followers" would use this information to "steal" targets (a notion I've always considered ridiculous and a little pompous). This was, after all, years before the implementation of the often-maligned Spotter Network.
But as the intimacy of chasing itself was slowly fading, social media came along and picked up the slack. This served two purposes. First, it brought back a popular medium for chasers to once again interact, and secondly, this eventually led to open flame wars, as the internet always does, but on a brand new level. This coincided with the influx of newbies who knew little about the weather or how to chase, but could do 13 things at once in a vehicle. The result? A whole lotta people running around with resources to find the storms but virtually no experience in knowing what to do with one once they got to it. The infighting, the gimmicks, the gadgets, everything but chasing tornadoes. Social media and technological advancements had created a chasing scene more akin to Jerry Springer than NOVA. Purists and traditionalists like me hated it, but found it entertaining at the same time. And the Debris Show was born.
I've always said, especially to haters, the only reason the show ever existed was because the chasing community allowed it to. All we did was report on what other people were saying and doing. We never sat around and dreamed up bullshit stories to recruit viewers. Nope, everything ever seen and heard on the show was the direct result of someone else's actions. We were basically chasing's TMZ
But money matters most to most people, and as that continued to weed out passion, curiosity, and other motives for chasing storms, people once again cared less about the silly stuff and instead chose to focus on their business ventures. Once in a while we could bait a big name into making an appearance via phone, but it was always on the condition of pimping their products or services. No major players in the chasing world ever wanted any part of the show for the show's sake. We even had one big name chaser come to us and ask to be a guest sometime on a future show (which we very eagerly-approved), but this was followed by a series of particularly-racy episodes. We never heard from the person again, and I've always felt either this person decided on his own, or was told by others being associated with us would hurt their reputation.
The few times I wanted to maybe take the show in a deeper, more serious direction, I reminded myself that a dozen shows like that already existed. What made the show was the fact it wasn't politically-correct, it wasn't technically sound, and it wasn't educational. It was something chasing had never seen or had, but needed....at least in my opinion. Basically, the Debris Show was the show I'd always wanted to watch myself. But no one ever created it. So we did.
Money and commerce have been the driving force behind the popularity of live streaming, not entertainment. People, obviously, will sit and watch a silent stream of less-then-stellar weather for six straight hours, hundreds at a time. But few will tune in to see real live personality, insight, debate, and emotion. Because, for the time being, those simply don't sell. So most people aren't interested. They'd rather focus on things that make money, self-promote, and further the myth they actually matter and stand out in a world saturated with gimmicks and re-hashed ideas based on original ideas that also did nothing. In short, nobody has time for fun anymore. For passion. For anything not drenched in the almighty dollar.
I feel the same way, except I'm not about money. I'm just realizing that chasers today are fucking boring. They're like NASCAR drivers. Back in the day, there were personalities. There was nerdiness, rough-around-the-edges imperfection, and most of all - humility. Chasers today are cardboard cutouts, light versions of the real chasers they came up idolizing. They all look alike. They all dress alike. They're all white. They're all 20-something. They're based in IT and that is the draw to chasing for them. They all use every possible advantage to garner as much ROI as possible. Chasing isn't a passion or even a hobby to them. It's an investment. A venture. They have gimmick vehicles, gimmick agendas, gimmick associations. They have everything except a recognizable, discernible passion to chase tornadoes.
There's simply nothing left of the chasing world to make fun of that we haven't already covered. And by now, overall, this group of people is so uninteresting, there's no desire on our part to even try to keep on top of what they're doing. We don't care.
So in closing, I'd like to thank everyone who watched, especially those who called in or were guests on the show or otherwise participated regularly. We got to know some of you through doing the show, and we still consider those people friends. Last, and absolutely least, I'd like to thank all the people who create such needless, pathetic drama, because without all of you, there never would've been a Debris Show. I had hoped someone else would take the torch and go forward, but clearly nobody wants to. I guess chasing's changed so much to the "pro" aspect, there's just not time to let your hair down and be real for a few minutes (and not get paid for it).
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