The Debris Show: The Early Days

As we began our early phase of planned shows on the CTV stream service, Bridget took over all the technical aspects so I could concentrate on the show content and performance. We experimented with different setup locations, so we could give the audience a little bit different look each time (which consisted of one actual location: the same setup spot in our living room, just facing opposite ways depending on our mood).

As for the show itself in that first month, it was pretty basic but still structured. I'd write down ideas all the previous week leading up to a show, and when it was time to do the broadcast, I'd just pick whatever topic I thought was most interesting first, and simply work my way down. I might only have three or four ideas on a piece of paper, but I could spin each one into 10-15 minute bits. I did this on purpose, because I wanted a show that was structured enough to be interesting, but still free-style so the audience would keep coming back. It didn't take long to learn that what people loved most wasn't necessarily what I was saying, but how I said it. I would get emails and talk to people in live chat during the week between shows, and the opinions were all pretty much the same: they loved my angry, honest rants.

It made sense, because I'd built my name in the chasing world years earlier (quite unintentionally) by being blunt and honest on chasing forums and grouplists. To outsiders, I was this nobody with no credentials but a million and one opinions. To me, I was just a new chaser who was absolutely obsessed with any and everything to do with chasing, and usually had an opinion about it. Another thing that helped mold me into what I am today, was the fact no one took me seriously. I would get scoffed at by veteran chasers, because (1) I didn't have much of a chasing resume yet and (2) most chasers back then had left-brained, passive, almost-introverted type personalities; I'd always been the polar opposite. When I came onto the chasing scene, most chasers, away from chasing, could be found programming, doing math equations, or staring through a telescope. I was more likely to be found at the local watering hole, reveling in drunken bliss and scoping chicks. So from the very moment our two worlds collided, I was beyond the atypical storm chaser. That they wouldn't take me seriously didn't help matters.

But I digress...

I held little back on the early shows, except mentioning actual names. I would talk about anyone I wanted, as long as what I said was the truth. People used to warn me about silly legal things like "libel" and so forth, but I stood by my principle: If what I'm saying is true, and I don't mention names, fuck'em. If the person (s) I'm talking about realize it's them, and they get pissed, even better. The beauty in that is, if someone should come forth, suspecting I'm talking about them, they immediately mark themselves "guilty" to a viewing audience who otherwise would've been none the wiser. It's a can't-lose situation. And I used it to my every advantage on the show.

Not long into the early phase of the show, real-world issues began to arise. I would get angry emails, even phone calls, regarding show content. But I stood by my principles. In fact, if someone started causing me a headache away from the show during the week, I'd lay into them even harder the next week; if I was going to have to deal with issues in my personal life regarding a silly one-hour show where sometimes the truth hurts, I was gonna earn those headaches. Over the course of the first six weeks of the show, it had cost me a few admirers as well as a professional tour guide gig. But I didn't care. The show was real, honest, and entertaining. As more and more issues arose for us because of the show, the more of a life the show began to take on. We had found something, and it was starting to affect people (for better or worse). We weren't going to stop now. Chasing needed a different kind of voice, one that nobody had ever provided before. Oh sure, weather shows were a dime a dozen, and all were successful and had their own audience. But nobody in the world of chasing or weather had ever done anything like Debris. We were breaking new ground.

Certain aspects of the show became fun for the audience. I almost always drank beer during the early shows, but out of respect to Scott and Steve at CTV, I would drink from a cup, so as not to promote the consumption of alcohol on their professional streaming service (which had a lot of heavy-hitting customers who were far more important than The Debris Show). Because of this, I would joke with the audience and say I was drinking "Orange Juice" or simply "OJ". It became a running joke for a while, as people would randomly ask "how's the OJ?" We were building a relationship with our viewers, and I loved that, because that's all we had. Without the people watching, I was just some nutbag screaming at a 16-inch monitor. I think people began to relate to us, because the entire point of the show, down to the name, was reflective of our laid-back style and approach. The show, technically, was less-than-stellar. But we used what little technology we had to the fullest extent, and made it fun to watch. We didn't need the professional setups of shows like High Instability and Weatherbrains; our appeal wasn't our technical prowess or smooth-operating shows. It was content.