So well, in fact, that after a couple dates she invited him up to her bedroom. Why not? After all, 24-year-old Justin is a Yale grad with a major in physics and philosophy. He was also successful, having pocketed some decent cash after selling an Internet startup.
Justine Ezarik, 23, has become one of the most popular "lifecasters" on the Web.
There was just one hitch: Justin had a live webcam mounted on his hat, making his every move viewable by anyone who happened to be watching his site, Justin.tv.
But voyeuristic viewers of Justin.tv ended up disappointed that evening.
"I put the camera off to the side and turned off the microphone," Justin says. "I wanted to keep it, kind of, like, kid safe. And you know, I don't really have any desire to be a porn star on the Internet."
Justin may not be a porn star, but he has become a web celebrity of sorts since attaching a camera to the brim of his baseball cap and live-streaming every moment of his life through the cellular WiFi-connected Sony Vaio notebook computer in his backpack.
Well, not every moment. "I've stopped taking it in public bathrooms," he says. "That's criminally prosecutable in California."
Justin.tv is one of new breed of live video sites that feature people doing... whatever it is that they are doing, live. Sites like Justin.tv, Stickam, Operator 11, and Ustream offer home-made reality TV, uploaded by users around the world.
The idea isn't necessarily new — in 1996, Jennifer Ringley set up a webcam in her college dorm room. "JenniCam" documented her daily life, whether she was painting her nails or having sex with her boyfriend. She continued the practice, wherever she was living, for the next seven years. But Justin is taking it to a new level, thanks to wireless technology that allows the live feed to go mobile.
Justin.tv started with just one "channel" — all Justin, all the time. Now the site features numerous other "lifecasters," such as a guitar-strumming, underwear-clad minstrel in New York City known as the Naked Cowboy. It's even had a presidential candidate: Ron Paul has been doing a bit of lifecasting on Justin.tv.
The site also has a burgeoning star, Justine Ezarik, a 23-year-old graphic designer from Pittsburgh area.
It's easy to see why she's already had so much success. She has model good looks and easy cyber savvyness that attracts both technophiles and casual users alike.
I met up with both Justin and Justine at an outdoor mall in Santa Monica, Calif. While Justin's trucker cap headcam seems to peg out the nerdy-meter, Justine pulls off the tech-heavy setup with style, wearing a green sundress and camera mounted to a floppy Greek fisherman's cap which, despite the dangling cables, still allows her to appear more woman than Borg.
They were lifecasting as we spoke, simultaneously answering my questions and addressing their viewers, who ping them via live chat. Justine's viewers were urging her to head to the nearby beach, in the hopes of seeing her in a bikini.
"Guys, can you just be nice?" she said, addressing her webcam. "Come on. Why does this always have to be like that?"
Justine says she gets a lot of those kind of messages, but her "channel," like Justin's, is strictly PG.
While 24/7 live streaming is an obvious burden for the "lifecaster," it's also not always the most compelling for viewers either. Justin and Justine both turn the cameras on themselves during the day, but much of their streams are point-of-view shots of them sitting at their computers or walking. The images lack drama and can appear muddy when there's a lot of movement.
Justin Kan, 24, has been wearing a live webcam since launching Justin.tv in March.
When viewers don't like what they're seeing, they sometimes take matters into their own hands.
One person called 911 with a false report of a stabbing at Justin's apartment. Police burst in with guns drawn — and it could all be seen online.
Other prank calls involved suicide jumpers and fires. Worse was a bomb threat. "We were at a convention-type thing," Justin recalled.
For Justin and Justine, wearing a live camera can have unintended consequences. While we were talking at the mall, a thief swiped a man's cell phone and darted right past us. Justin caught the incident on his headcam and told the victim he could use the video to identify the crook.
I mentioned to him that the cam could potentially make him a tool for police — a sort of mobile, public, closed-circuit television camera. He conceded it's something he hasn't given much thought to.
We turned away and began watching a young violinist playing for passersby. It occurred to me that Justin now was a potential promotional tool for this musician.
It was a dizzying array of funhouse mirrors all within a few hours of one afternoon. Sometimes, while these lifecasters are occupied with capturing the moments of their lives — they are also missing them completely.
"I'm, like, ‘Wow, I really wish I could have actually enjoyed that moment,'" Justine said. "But instead I was too busy."
As an experiment, I asked Justine to briefly shut down her camera. She gratefully complied and pulled of her cap. At once the conversation seemed more relaxed and natural.
She admitted that it was difficult to have people watching her all day — and judging her, in public. And she said that viewers can be cruel.
So why lifecast at all, then?
Well, there's the money. Justin and his partners received startup financing from an Internet investment group to launch Justin.tv. Viewership has grown; Justin says the site currently gets between 30,000 and 40,000 visitors a day.
And then there's the fame. Justin.tv may not have a large audience compared with "The Real World" or "The Surreal Life," but consider this: within weeks of launching her channel on Justin.tv, Justine was in Los Angeles, meeting with one of Hollywood's most powerful and influential talent agencies.
-Producer: Robert Padavick
-Video editor: Didrik Johnck
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