Ryan Seacrest: Rehab Addict? He’s the Guy! - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 50

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 49 - May 18, 2026

There is a commitment on my part to be sensitive to the feelings and reputations of others. And with that is ebbing and flowing that goes with asking and receiving. Viewers have invested time watching the shows, leading to questions I’m left to answer. This post, and the others before it in this Response series, have been attempts to bridge some gaps. I’m not quite finished, yet getting close to the end of what I’m writing for a diverse group of others, but as I’ve discovered, also myself.

Standard advice cautions people of following in the footsteps of giants. Although it can apply to women, I’ve most often heard other dudes warning, “You don’t want to be the guy to follow the guy,” But in 2026, I’ll add, “Unless your name is Ryan Seacrest,” who’s been modern-day iconic enough to fill the legendary shoes of Dick Clark, Casey Kasem, Regis Philbin, and now Pat Sajak on Wheel of Fortune.  

On my first day working with the production company out of Minneapolis, the showrunner casually directed me to look into the camera and say, “My name is Trent, and I’m addicted to rehab.” 

In the moment, my response had come naturally. I shook my head, like a pitcher wanting a different sign from his catcher.

Was it Midwestern values hovering over me?

Had my faith, the Golden Rule, been activated?

Was it American ideals of right and wrong instilled by the Brady kids and Happy Days gang?

It wasn’t just that I saw that claim as belonging to Nicole Curtis. It was also how the showrunner had reacted in this moment. It seemed insincere, disingenuous, as if she was straight up lying to me, and because I was unfamiliar to television she treated me as if I should swallow her excuse of ignorance.

But that horse pill would not go down.

It seemed in a flash as if she was part of something below board and involved with trying to suck me into whatever was happening. And to me that was very uncool.

Starting in 2011, when people told me my approach to my project houses reminded them of Ms. Curtis, I started to get more familiar with the HGTV and DIY networks blitzing viewers with her episodes. The lineups of both channels were full of shows focused on remodeling properties and showcasing inspirational real estate. Some programs were on either one network or the other, but a select number, like Rehab Addict, were featured on both, sometimes even at the same time.

Yard Crashers was another show that had been so popular that it earned time on each of the Scripps’ home improvement channels. For a lot of folks, the original host Ahmed Hassan was synonymous with this series. But starting in 2011, a new guy named Matt Blashaw was leading the efforts in people’s backyards. The show moniker and format stood, but save for repeat episodes, the old host had seemingly disappeared.

Something similar happened with ratings darling House Hunters. Suzanne Waing was the beloved face on the much-appreciated series from 1999 until disappearing from new airings in 2007. In 2013, Suzanne would pass on, so the replacement might have been in response to her cancer battle. Still, in the wake of what had happened with Hassan and Yard Crashers, and the lack of some type of explanation, HGTV viewers were left to wonder why the longtime hostess had been replaced with a collection of other talent.

Property Virgins serves as another example of a popular series with an established host where the show continued to move ahead when the mainstay was swapped out. Sandra Rinomata was virgin’s established guide into the sexy world of real estate from 2006-2012 until she was replaced by radio host RE agent Egypt Sherrod.

Yard Crashers, House Hunters, and Property Virgins were titles in plural, referencing more than one crasher onto a property, a tiny troop of people hunting houses, or novices new to the real estate market. To me, and I’d imagine more than a few others, Nicole Curtis was the Rehab Addict. Singular. The one and only.

Considering network commander Kathleen Finch, I couldn’t see myself directing the showrunner to look into a camera and introduce herself before declaring she was “the President of HGTV.” I wouldn’t have felt right doing that nor would I have expected the young woman to be okay saying it.

If the name of the show had been “Rehab Addicts,” I may have felt and reacted differently. If Nicole Curtis had been in the mix and let me know my saying I was addicted to rehab was alright by her, I think I would have taken a swing. Or if they were going to veer in some fresh direction, with more than one host on the show, then perhaps it would have unfolded into something productive.

The behavior in that moment was a red flag that in some ways I was sorry to have spotted, at least so early on. And once it had grabbed my attention, I was unable to unsee it.

I am not saying that things had been bumpy because I’d lost trust in the production company after the way they’d put me on the spot, asking me to cross something that I saw as a bright line. It factored in, but I put it out of my mind and kept taking steps on the path being laid out. And yet it may actually have been that things had been chaotic and disorganized due to the production company being distracted by turmoil created by them losing their brightest star and her hit program. Trying to get me to say I was addicted to rehab like Nicole Curtis hit me as strange, and it was even odder, at least to me, when her and her show names suddenly became taboo sixteen months after the executive producer had bragged about her before sending me Rehab Addict DVDs to watch.  

I don’t think anyone should replace Nicole Curtis as Rehab Addict, especially now, except maybe, Ryan Seacrest. But then that would derail the nickname I’ve given him, “The guy who can follow the guys,” in plural. 

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 51 - Coming Soon

The Nicole Curtis/Rehab Addict Ban - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 49

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 48 - May 15, 2026

I realize that the TV show Rehab Addict starring Nicole Curtis is currently shelved. I saw the video and have read a few articles on this situation. As I consider it, as I think most should, it looks as if it was a fatigued attempt to be cheeky and she awkwardly said the N word instead of something creatively funny like “Oh, fart knockers!”

Rehab Addict Nicole Curtis

What’s happening to her now might seem like news to other people, but I see as same-old since I was caught within a Nicole Curtis/Rehab Addict ban of my own over a decade ago. It’s time in this series to share this part of my story. Coincidentally, her recent news merges with what I started in January of this year.   

Back in February, I explained how people compared me, my houses, and how I approached them to what they’d seen Nicole Curtis doing on her hit TV show Rehab Addict. That was 2011. I watched the show and in 2012, I wrote about it and its blonde rehabber. She commented and I began to post more articles about RA and other shows on HGTV/DIY. In the fall of 2013, I received an unsolicited email from a programming director with the dual networks, leading to this young woman sending the production company behind Rehab Addict to come meet and film me in November 2013.

In my first phone conversation with the production company, they’d glowed about working with Ms. Curtis and producing her show. They sent me rough cut DVDs of Rehab Addict to study and understand.

So, because of the comparisons to and similarities with Ms. Curtis, the fact that we both took on the worst of the worst houses and this cool opportunity, I held some natural loyalty, even without ever meeting or speaking with her. Beyond these folks going AWOL and getting wishy-washy at me balking over imitating Ms. Curtis, I’d made an effort to remain open-minded because they produced Rehab Addict, and I thought that made them uniquely qualified for a show about me reviving the Summerville, South Carolina project house. And in March 2014, I filmed a pilot episode for what became American Rehab Charleston.

To get better acquainted with me, producers said they read my blog, trying to understand how I related to Curtis, my take on her approach and attitude toward this work we both loved. And yet even with this, as well as the other background and history, it amazed me how no one had taken a few minutes to call in 2014 to let me know that the rehabbing dynamo had stopped working with them. She was still on HGTV and DIY, but by way of different producers. I suppose, it may have been hard to explain. Perhaps the details were embarrassing. However, as difficult as it may have been, I’d have thought someone would have found a way to clue me in before we began to film the pilot. It might have been like so many other things, that the network thought the production company did it and the people up in Minnesota thought the decision makers over in New York had.

Yet I’d been overlooked.  

I don’t want to make it seem like this was all on producers. There was something going on, something about me, that made them unable or unwilling to be more transparent. And that’s a shame.

In January 2015, I had a front row seat to this oddity, left to just figure it out through body language, facial gestures, and between-the-line readings. It was as if key producers were anxious about the names Nicole Curtis and Rehab Addict, or maybe it was just loyalties opposite of mine, what I had thought were ours, shared, something we all had in common. They avoided both names, hers and the show, changed the subject sharply or wincing whenever either came up. After they’d sent me those DVDs, this baffled me. They’d been so proud of her and her breakout show, but for me, this attitude was out of the blue.

This eggshell walking wasn’t necessary for everyone on the crew, but a few were ultra-sensitive.

It was fascinating.

As one example, there was a piece of equipment that had been shipped down from Minnesota. It was marked boldly with two letters: RA. I asked if they stood for Rehab Addict. It tracked, and for me, it would have been a fun thing to know. But the crew member became unusually quiet. And this normally smooth young woman got squirrely, taking too long to answer the simple question. Finally, she said something like “Uh... it stands for another show we were thinking about doing called… Renovation America.” Maybe that was true, but I didn’t believe her. I still don’t, especially with all the other weirdness about NC and RA.  

Eventually, I began to get a grip on this split-up between this production company split and Ms. Curtis. And even though I didn’t know her or had ever met her, it was like I was her friend, on her side in this divorce. And I didn’t really mind that. It was just a wacky connection for someone to make when none existed. Not an actual one. But it was one of those circumstances that made me feel like I was in, even though I wasn’t.

Still, my loyalty seemed to be an issue. Again, as when I’d been unwilling to say, “My name is Trent, and I’m addicted to rehab,” I think my imagined alliance with Nicole Curtis was a positive to most of the crew. But the saddest part of this may have been how some producers seemed to have been put in the position of supporting their boss, choosing that person’s side over Curtis or neutrality.

It was three months of this zaniness, and it gave me some stuff to mull over. 

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 50 - May 20, 2026

What’s With Charleston in the Titles? - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 48

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 47 - May 12, 2026

To viewers far away, or people who’ve never visited this area, Charleston being in both show titles doesn’t raise eyebrows. Or at least none of these folks have ever asked me about it. However, people who live here or who’ve been to this tri-county region of the Palmetto State, those who know the geography, have opinions more than any questions for me regarding the loose use of Charleston, not just in the show titles, but also as I’m referencing the historic city as I talk throughout the series. And for the most part, I understand and agree with where they are. There was a lot of misuse of the name. And I get why some see it as disrespectful from many angles.

Before getting into that, I think I should point out, that although I have owned property in Charleston, I’ve never lived there, and not really even spent a lot of nights in Charleston County. I’ve lived in Berkeley or Dorchester Counties since moving down here for a new job in 1999. And although I’ve written about the Charleston projects and worked down there, I’ve not claimed to know that city all too well. I have some knowledge and appreciate being called an amateur historian. And when I was asked to speak about Charleston and some of its history on camera, I was happy to comment and share opinions—like how saving old houses and buildings isn’t easy, but it’s worth it, especially when the end result preserves the historic charm of a city like Charleston, somewhere that’s adored and appreciated, equating to recoupment for the effort from things like tourism dollars.

In addition, I made a remark about earning a living working in Charleston when it would have been better to say Berchador. But the thing is, the three-county composite is not used by nearly anyone, so that would have been wacky. They needed me to say it in a particular way, for specific reasons, and I repeated it as asked. I was being agreeable, accommodating those thinking they were doing what was best for me and us. That’s on me. I shouldn’t have gone along because it’s misleading and I’m sorry. I have been a licensed general contractor since 2001, renovating my own project houses in Berkeley, Charleston, and Dorchester Counties. That’s a mouthful, but absolutely, inarguably accurate.

Using Charleston in the titles created a need to tie what we were doing in Dorchester County back to the city throughout both series. That’s the most unfortunate part. I was driving a point home in a way that most here find objectionable.

When I started my blog in 2011, I was knee deep in my Charleston projects. So, I blogged about being down there quite a bit. Perhaps, this gave the impression that I was more imbedded than I was. Candidly writing, I was not trying to do that. Some good things happened as a result of those rehabs/rebuilds and I enjoyed writing about those circumstances. Maybe enthusiasm about Charleston and its Board of Architectural Review added to this confusion and I apologize for that too.  

There was some talk in 2013 and ‘14 about the abundance of Canadian hosts dominating HGTV and DIY. And at that time, it seemed as if there was consideration to showcase Americans to balance things out a bit. I’m not sure it this is why the American Rehab shows were named like they were or not. I’m just saying that for some people this title was locked down and happened without and away from me.     

To be honest, I didn’t think too much about the title of the first show. When I heard it, I was still hoping to just get on TV, even if it was once, for half an hour. If calling the first show American Rehab Charleston or the second Restoring Charleston had been my ideas, and I heard from someone who was unhappy with these names, I could and would apologize. However, I was not involved, so I can’t take blame or credit.

However, I don’t have my head in the clouds, unaware of what people in the area think and say and write online. And, at the risk of seeming critical of or ungrateful toward network producers, I can’t say I disagree with those who have stated emphatically how Summerville and St. George are not Charleston. I’ve been here for twenty-seven years. I get it. The Holy City, Flower Town, and the small village of St. George are special in their own unique ways. It was hurtful to the people of the Dorchester towns to have me rambling on about the gloriousness of Charleston rather than Summerville and St. George. Those people are right to be disappointed and displeased. I do understand. I wish we’d named both shows differently and celebrated where we actually were even more instead of where producers wanted us to be working and filming.   

Now, in defense of the network, Charleston being a historic city, well known for tourism, reaches a lot further than the lesser-known places. But still, they named one of the seasons American Rehab Virginia, so I can see why some might question why our season wasn’t American Rehab South Carolina. And I would have been down to name Summerville, St. George, or even the region of Berchador. Those other options may have made a better impression locally, but American Rehab Charleston grabs the eyes of a wider, even international audience. So bigger picture, even though a different title may have been better for my reputation and how I’d be considered in this part of the state, the use of Charleston was certainly best for HGTV and DIY at the beginning, and then eventually Discovery, Magnolia, and HBO Max. 

In considering the network’s position even further, Dorchester and Charleston Counties do form what is called the Historic Charleston and Resort Islands region. Plus, when we all travel to another state or farther away, we keep it simple, saying, “We’re from Charleston,” or “from outside of Charleston.” So perhaps, American Rehab Historic Charleston and Resort Islands or Restoring Outside of Charleston may have been more accurate, but producers tightened it up, rather than some alternative. 

I understand what they were trying to do but also still got caught between that and what I knew made sense to those of us living here. How things played out, this casual use of the Charleston name, inadvertently eroded credibility the network was trying to establish. But it’s just an unanticipated cost that's part of me agreeing to do the shows. However, regardless of this price, I’m still honored to have been able to brag publicly about this cool place I’ve lived near and worked in and around for a large chunk of my life. 

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 49 - May 18, 2026

Making it onto HGTV - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 47

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 46 - May 6, 2026

 

As I’ve sorted through questions leading to these response posts, I’ve been reminded of the award-winning author’s words, but more so the understanding they aptly express.

Rather than producers getting quick approval for the first sequence, what they needed to return to finish in May 2014, communication dwindled within a fresh waiting period that lasted four months.

Perhaps attitudes and perspectives changed in the wake of August 1^st when I told the programming director I’d been contacted by another production company back in March. I’m unqualified to say what impact my news actually had since I just didn’t and still don’t know.

This wasn’t boasting nor bluffing, just sharing facts I felt needed to be more widely known. There hadn’t been a strong reaction over the phone, nothing bolder or more expressive than something like, “Oh really?” But activity picked up in other corners of the country—the production company in Minneapolis finished the twenty-one-minute pilot and the producers in New York had a date and probable time slot for the introductory episode.

Weeks later, and then also in 2015, we made it onto HGTV. And that counted to a lot of people and still seems to. Friends, family, and strangers let me know about watching in other parts of the country, abroad, or even on airplane seat screens. And although DIY was great exposure, HGTV seemed to be more well known in Berchador, so those airings held stronger significance in this region.

After hurdles, pitfalls, and wipeouts, it felt pretty great seeing myself on our television. It was an 11pm airing, a school night, so the kiddos were asleep. But my wife Diann and I watched it together, and surreal is a fitting word to describe this half hour. But the days and weeks after were what lingered and lasted longer. I floated blissfully after coming through the trying stretch, feeling good about what I’d seen. I knew I didn’t do all that well as we filmed, but the producers had made me watchable. They’d smoothed out my roughness. They’d cut out my most embarrassing flub-ups. Rather than an untrained nobody, I looked like I had a sense of what I was doing, even though I’d been lost and confused much of the time. I seemed tuned in and aware, and I appreciated all they’d done to pull off this impression.

From here, there was another gap, September thru December, a mixture of knowing bits and pieces, waiting more, and hoping the series would get picked up. And that did happen. Five more episodes.

Some eyes and minds watching from the outside may have considered the time, November 2013 until the return of the production at the beginning of 2015, as some indicator of HGTV/DIY having large plans for me. Yet, the details behind this extended period make it clear how this wasn’t the situation.

Instead of this being a year of careful planning, fine tuning, and mind melting, or like the comparison to a building foundation phase prior to erecting something new and substantial, it had been months of futility and minimal productivity, a span that could be described as dysfunctional.

Speculating from my position away and outside, I think there was debate between those who were excited and others who may have been overly indifferent regarding me. This opinion was formed by inconsistencies in evaluations and directives; the network said one thing, the production company something else.

Early on, growing sizably, valuable time was wasted because I had not taken steps to lead the effort appropriately; to nail down specifics so others could move forward. Sure, I didn’t know what I didn’t know about TV. But I knew enough and better. I should have applied past experience to those current circumstances so all could move ahead as needed with documents to use as a road map to guide and plan.

*

I have been described as a hippy-ish sort of renovator. I’ve got a scrappy style, with a methodical process, being resourceful and practical as best I can. I appreciate much more than is necessary before and beyond the final paycheck while getting where I need to in my own roundabout way. And for a while, it seemed as if this chance to renovate for Scripps was kicking off comparably—free flowing, not textbook or ideal, but eventually, step by step. In the early months, it felt like we might be getting to something noteworthy, even if the path hadn’t been typical.

But I mishandled this break. I needed things and people I didn’t have. One-man-band didn’t cut it and the opportunity got away from me; I began to spin before sliding into the ditch. It’s hard to say that I went up in flames since the shows are still on, being seen and enjoyed by some even today. Yet I can admit to myself, and hold an understanding I must own, that I’m aware how I didn’t measure up as many had hoped. I failed to reach the heights others wanted and prayed I would. I made mistakes. And thinking out this response series has even made some new ones clearer.

In the end, I was reminded how I was not much more than a home renovating husband, father, and step-father who loves the challenge of resurrecting a house left for dead, thinking my way through, working late, getting up early, stretching my budget and beating the bushes for help along the way, no acting lessons or media training—just gripping and ripping for cameras and editors. I’d used a free blog to write and coach and teach others about what and how I do and did something I really love. And more than planned, I accidentally ended up getting to do it on the four-letter home improvement channel. 

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 48 - May 15, 2026

Post-Wrap of the Pilot Episode - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 46

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 45 - May 4, 2026

In the spring of 2014, I was making an effort to put on a faithful face, to be an example of hope and optimism. But on the inside, being sensible, practical even, I had to own up to the truth that I hadn’t knocked this opportunity over the fence.

And it was getting even further away from me.

I’m not being overly rough on myself now as much as I am sharing details to satisfy those still curious. To more than a few, I come off as supremely certain within the episodes, and some feel they need to set me straight. Perhaps, in sharing this response series, I’ll make it a little clearer that I realize I don’t have all the answers.  

Even now, over ten years down the road, there’s a whole lot I don’t know about what happened after the producers left South Carolina. However, in May of that first year in TV, I had post-filming involvement in the form of voiceover work and am able to write some about that.

Within the two weeks of the filming and interviewing to create the pilot that would eventually kickoff all of the American Rehab series, I learned that producers had much more quantity than they’d anticipated. The introductory half hour episode we’d all been working on would be paired down to twenty-one minutes. However, the math of it all showed that they’d actually accumulated enough footage to produce the six episodes after only ten days!

An expectant producer had let me know that they were ready to “fast track” the first segment, requiring executive producers and editors to comb through what they had to make a compelling initial seven minutes. That creation would take a week or so, they’d get anticipated approval, then circle back so we could finish the house and filming before August.

However, by mid-April, I was again being reminded of how dissatisfied producers had been with me, how despite their professionalism, I’d witnessed expressions and posture that served as feedback. I hadn’t been delivering as hoped. Weeks after their exodus, it became clear that the quantity wasn’t equating to quality. And as a result of my ineffectiveness, they needed me to begin logging time in a local recording studio to provide usable dialogue to bridge gaps and sew up holes.        

These sound booth sessions brought back comparable satisfaction felt while filming the first day of the test reel on November 7 of 2013. I had producers in other parts of the country coming through my headphones, listening to me repeat many of the things I’d said back in March, but this time I was alone, talking into a microphone in a soundproof room with audio technicians behind the glass partition. I was living out a scene I’d watched in movies and television, with the highlight of this experience being the session when my star-eyed daughter came along to watch and listen.

This voiceover work spilled into May, telling me without saying so that they would not be returning before our kid’s schools let out for the summer. These studio sessions then carried over into June, solidifying even more substantially some of my natural, privately held evaluating over my performance on camera at the end of March.

Through the headset, producers directed and encouraged me. Although unable to read expressions, I could hear their tones of voices. They seemed taken aback— unexpectedly surprised in a good way—as if I was coming through beyond what they’d anticipated or been prepared for. This was the opposite of how I’d felt filming for the two weeks, an ease inducing, necessary moment. And this collection of hours added up to an uplifting end to my part in creating the pilot episode.

Although I was encouraged that they'd be able to cobble together enough, as the weeks of summer formed months, I began to once again think that our chances of getting onto HGTV were back to slim. 

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 47 - Coming Soon

Wrapping Up the Detached Garage - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 45

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 44 - May 1, 2026

In home rehabbing, the value of extra space to work out of and store materials in is immeasurable. A garage, basement, and detached outbuilding like a barn or shed make a reno easier, which over the course of the project, whether it’s weeks, months, or longer, saves time, which likely also benefits the budget. And these are major biggies.

I’d overlooked this value early in my career, until I had a rehab with nowhere to overflow into.  This meant moving things around my available space on the inside a lot, more than would have been necessary if I’d had space that didn’t need to be reworked and rebuilt.

Eventually, this asset on prospective properties was just one of others that I learned to factor in as I combed through listings and cruised for next projects. And by 2013, it was something I no longer had to be hyper-aware of.

The Summerville property had two garages: a detached one-car in back under the live oak that was older than the house, and the other next to the kitchen that was enclosed as part of filming the pilot. Although it was supposed to have been completed, time ran out and it was ready for me to finish. It wasn’t a lot of work, but enough to keep me busy throughout the month of April 2014 as I waited.

The completed effort had included a sweet new garage door replacing an old one that dramatically fell from its tracks while pilot cameras had been rolling. Along with this fancy unit, the two-sides of this building facing the back of the house had been painted yellow. But that was it. The rest was ready, beckoning me to freshen it up.

Along with addressing rotten wood and buttoning up the paint job, this shed needed soffit, fascia, and new trim. But there was potential to make a larger, more impactful splash. So, while I was completing this part of the property’s makeover, I decided to move the man door from the back corner to a new spot that lined up more ideally with a rogue section of concrete jutting out from the pad under the grand tree. Not only was I able to capitalize on a mysterious, inherited quirk, it would also allow me to make better use of the space inside. In addition to moving this door, I installed another entrance on the back side and popped in some windows. Then to top this enjoyable make-work off, I installed what would be a brick border up to the relocated door and then mixed up a little over a yard of concrete to complete the walkway.     

In the wake of the time spent waiting, and the two weeks of filming the pilot, I appreciated the authenticity of completing the detached garage, on my own, without anyone needing my narration and commentary or to be feeding me dialogue that may be used to tie scenes together in post-production. More than when the people from LA and Minnesota had been working with me, I felt comfortable, assured, and like my old self. And that time, in a great town, under the canopy of the beautiful tree on my property with so much potential, was a good place to be.  

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 46 - Coming Soon

Pride in the Dumpster - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 44

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 45 - April 29, 2026

Answering the biggest questions generates more curiosity. Here’s a logical follow-up to me sharing how I failed to adequately respond to learning that the carport, side porch, and reroof had been surreptitiously nixed.

I could, and maybe should have responded with, “Your bosses said that you would be doing Plan C, but you’re doing Plan D instead, sidestepping the big three things I really need after waiting three months? No thanks. I’m sorry to have to tell you that we’re not going to be making a pilot after all.”

But then what?

That had been a gamble I was unwilling to take. Even though they’d not done what they’d said up to that point, I still trusted the dual networks and their Minneapolis production company. I really wanted to believe in them. I needed for those who were capable to get me on HGTV, even if it was one time, one episode.

Knowing now, what I didn’t know then, I had leverage I could have used that would have helped everyone involved. As much as I didn’t like or appreciate it, downgrading to the pilot episode first would have actually been the best thing if we’d gone with Plan C. I thought we’d made a minor breakthrough when I laid out the value of a potential win-win scenario. As I explained it, as I sincerely felt about it, gutting the interior, building the side porch and carport, and replacing the leaky roof would have been ideal for everyone. Now I know it for sure.  

Although I thought we’d ended this conversation in logical compromise territory, it may have changed when the other side had time to consider what we’d settled on. I realize that for some people, win-win feels uncomfortable, because they genuinely believe that in order to come out ahead, the other party must decidedly not get all that they’re after. But I know from experience how that doesn’t work in the long run.

I thought it was clear how Plan C would be the best for all, but once again, I didn’t tie them down because I had an inflated regard. But more importantly, I feared that doing that would scare them into not showing up at all.

Instead, I rolled the dice with my fingers crossed, and that was on me. I suppose deep down I felt that I deserved to live with Plan D, the exterior spruce up in lieu of what had been discussed and orally landed on over the phone since I had been more trusting than was prudent.

This is on me. I’d messed up again. And the reason we started on the outside, as much as I hated it then and cringe about it even today, and as detrimental as it was to my chance to renovate my houses on television more substantially, circles back and points to me. And as I’ve already said, I’m sorry to the people I let down and all those who had high hopes and big plans for me.  

*

Besides me taking my lumps for rolling the dice on the lead producer, something slightly magnanimous is also worth understanding.

The crew on site was not to blame. They were just doing what they’d been directed to do by the people they answered to.  They’d told their friends and families how they would be working in Charleston, South Carolina for two weeks. They’d passed on other jobs in order to come work with me, to help me have a chance at the series pickup that would finish the rest of the house.

If I sent them home when I realized what was happening, they’d likely feel as if I was to blame. Right or wrong, this was where my mind went since I lacked the background to fully understand the consequences and implications if I took a hard line. In that way, I was in too far. I didn’t know what to do other than to try to keep my head above water and get a little further along with this opportunity.

At this point, regardless of how screwy and unappetizing this process had become, I had to do whatever I could to squeeze out a time slot featuring me on HGTV.

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 43 - Coming Soon

Trent on a Fast Track - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 43

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 42 - April 29, 2026

To be clear and transparent, the filming for the pilot was a cool experience when the project implications were overlooked. I was the focal point of attention and full-on adoration for two straight weeks. Production assistants offered me water and fetched me coffee. Producers fed me lunch every day and oversaw the two weeks of pilot filming that ran like clockwork. And the network picked up the lion’s share of the costs for the initial improvements made to the house.

Getting to that point of being in the spotlight as I was, felt like its own special accomplishment. I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant big picture or long term, but it seemed noteworthy after almost fizzling multiple times during the long stretch of waiting.

However, I was not great, at all. I thought I’d be better but wasn’t confident when speaking and my enthusiasm was inauthentic. My energy level was more from caffeine than organic excitement over what we were doing. I was sincerely disappointed, more in the talent than anyone else. I talked over people, tripped on my words, and often used the same description too many times. I had not shined as hoped. I’d let myself down and understood that the producers felt the same. I saw them wince, picked up on their hard-to-hide indifference. They were steadfastly professional, but these were not actors. They couldn’t pretend that I was brilliant when I muddled day-to-day in full view.    

Although getting the initial green light had happened quickly, and may have seemed easy to others looking in, perhaps even as I’ve written about it here in this Response series, it had been rough and bumpy and taken a long time, with the last leg, December through March, being supremely dicey. But I’d come through without losing my mind off camera and without melting down, venting frustrations while being filmed with every word recorded. It hadn’t been an Ironman triathlon or completion of a marathon, yet at the end, I was drained. I’d endured and it was a milestone to get to that point and then through this experience working with the producers on site and remotely throughout the country.

As I’ve said before, they treated me nicely. But I could tell I wasn’t saying what they wanted me to say, how they wanted it said, even after they tried to tell me. They were positive when they could be, like letting me know I had a knack for knowing where the camera was, opening up and adjusting as needed. And they seemed to appreciate my personality and sense of humor.

However, there were producers who seemed super-duper pleased, very impressed, making me feel genuinely optimistic of chances at being picked up for the series. The high point of this enthusiasm was when a producer pulled me aside and said, “You’re doing great! We have enough for the first segment. We’re gonna fast track it, get approval for the pick-up, and then we’ll be right back.” That was news that had me standing a little straighter. And he added, “It won't be April. But what we have is looking really good and we’ll be back by May for sure.”

Of course, they didn't want me to work on the house until they returned, and I had some privately held mixed feelings about this. But if they were coming back, I could find ways to be productive for four or five weeks that would surely buzz by quickly.

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 44 - Coming Soon

Hanging Tight onto the Juggernaut Notion - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 42

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 41 - April 23, 2026

To use the word reluctant, rather than openly admitting my fears, would soften things up to make the mishandling of my opportunity to be on TV different than I should. Without a doubt, I was in a precarious position because I’d moved ahead with the networks without having clear, spelled out plans, or at the least, some form of vague parameters on what we were moving ahead with together spelled out in a documented form.

That was the opposite of wise. It would be like driving to the west coast without a map or navigational system for guidance, just being okay asking people which way to go enroute. Even the uber faithful would set off with a reasonable strategy.

My handling, or lack of, might be an example of the warning about not meeting your heroes. I revered HGTV and that created a weak spot in my ability to evaluate circumstances. That’s an excuse I’m willing to own.  

Big picture, looking ahead down the long road, and even now in hindsight, sticking with our thought out and talked over planning would have been better for all involved—my family and I, contractors and tradespeople, the production company and its employees, and the dual networks. Victories around the table. Ignorantly, I just thought we’d gravitate back to where we needed to be. But in the end, it falls on me to admit that I knew to put things down on paper, at the least so that the network and the production company could have a written record of what each of them were saying to me.

In benefit of the doubt concluding, producers had a lot going on, many more rehabbing shows than ours in South Carolina. Which only goes back to the responsibility being on me, even if I realized it too late. From the point of in getting turned upside down, I was in salvage mode: doing whatever I could to still get on the home improvement juggernaut to save face.  

*

In the final days of pilot filming, a Charleston news crew was dispatched to come visit. They wanted to grab a few minutes of footage of the activity, maybe interviewing me and members of the production team or contractors.

On one hand, this development sounded really good to me. I wanted as many of our friends and neighbors as possible to have some confirmation that I hadn’t been blowing things out of proportion for three months, that I actually was working towards an opportunity with HGTV/DIY. Local news coming to see me and us would legitimize what we’d been telling people, not because we were tooting our horns, but because we had to explain as part of getting ready. Although not everyone we’d told would have seen me on the news, word would have spread and that would have been long overdue enough.

Yet, being candid for those reading as well as myself, this possibility made me uneasy. What I said and how I said everything on camera for this pilot episode would be edited by the network producers. But if I was interviewed by one of the local stations, they’d have been able to craft it however them deemed appropriate and necessary. And that made me uncomfortable, and probably the showrunner as well because the network needed to control the tone of the episode and they didn’t know just what they had on film yet.

We were starting on the outside and this really had me off balance from day one—I’d never really gotten over the start-at-the-end plan-of-attack. I’d been trying to explain someone else’s, or some committee’s choice, but it had been a two-week struggle.

Sequencing of a rehab is critical to its schedule and budgeting. Some wiggle room is alright, but wackiness like starting on the outside costs a lot of time and money. I’d been solidly stoked about the project before everything was flipped. But my enthusiasm and confidence were shaky, rocked off my point-of-view foundation.

Typically, interior demolition is an exciting phase, my first chance to really see how the house is built or has been added onto. Potential to utilize natural light becomes clearer. I begin to understand the history of the home better by seeing what’s beneath plaster and sheetrock.

And building the carport for the pilot would have been such a fresh gust of life onto the half acre site. This addition was over five hundred square feet of area to work under. The completed, connected side porch would have created a covered thoroughfare into the front part of the house that was being reestablished as the heart of the home just inside from the one-of-a-kind front porch. And having the new roof on, a leak free interior was also something that would have thrilled me, organic energy I needed on camera.

I could have easily talked to local news folks about this approach, but what we were doing really made me jittery, frail without concentrated effort, and lacking the needed conviction that was lost within the surprising change of plans.

So even though I’d been shooting straight about this chance to rehab my next house for producers, and local news would have made it all known right then, I was okay that they been told to stand down. The production company reps called the station, discouraging reporters from making the trip. It was made adamantly clear that local newspeople would not be given access to the project, me, or anyone else working on behalf of the networks. They didn’t really need to explain why. I realized it was for the best.

It was one of many missed opportunities and another example of my own, private over-optimism.

*

The pilot filming wrapped on schedule, a week before the Flowertown Festival kicked off, when the town of Summerville would be flooded just a few blocks away with thousands of visitors. Even though producers had heard about this event, as well as the Cooper River Bridge Run on Saturday of that same weekend, the film team was back to their homes in Minnesota and Southern California before they were able to see any of this excitement for themselves. This is another situation where I fell short, unable to keep them in town for the region’s big weekend.

I’d thought I was more prepared for this moment than I really was. Maybe it was hopefulness eclipsing actual certainty. I’d been outmatched and outmaneuvered, wilting when I needed to emerge and thrive. 

This had me in an unenviable position, just trying to scratch and grind out enough out enough to get HGTV, at least once, to avoid going down in flames as some laughable fraudster who'd tried to get people around him to buy into silliness. 

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 43 - April 29, 2026

Charity Case Spruce Up - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 41

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 1 - January 23, 2026

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 40 - April 22, 2026

In November 2013, I agreed to renovate the project house in Summerville, South Carolina with film crews on site. It would be for an untitled TV “series,” a vaguely defined concept where over the course of four episodes, I’d show viewers, aspiring home rehabbers and curious enthusiasts, how I resurrected a seemingly irredeemable house, or as my circle of peeps called it a “pig’s ear.”

Unlike many of my other jacked up messes, this home had not been condemned, nor was it abandoned and unwanted. However, it’d been placed back onto the market after failing inspections required by the lenders of other buyers, creating a win-win scenario that has been key to most of my projects—eager seller(s) and chomping-at-the-bit prospective buyer named Trent Fasnacht.  

Yet this is where my story detours, creating another lesson others can learn from. When verbal planning and prepping were scrapped and then altered, this should have been my off ramp back to normal, my walking away from discussions that had been presented as a golden opportunity.

However, my position was weak, my leverage flimsy. I’d been getting ready for over three months, without anything in writing, which as I’ve explained previously, was my first major misstep. Readiness, which included telling people this prep was all part of an opportunity to renovate my house with TV producers, painted me into a corner. The only way I saw out of that spot, was to be on television, ideally HGTV, somehow, some way. That meant taking whatever producers were willing to give me in mid-March 2014. And take whatever, is easy to imagine as less-than-ideal, far from admirable.

The series that had grown to a likely six episodes, three months rehabbing the entire house and positioning me to have a finished home to sell at the beginning of the busy spring buying season, real estate in one of the best school districts in Berchador, was suddenly scaled down to one—a pilot. A big maybe-for-more. I was disappointed, but still grateful. The film and construction crews would spend two weeks setting me up for the rest of the project.

My team of tradespeople had never laughed at me in person or over the phone, but they’d stopped waiting for me toward the end of January. And I was now telling myself this had been for the best. since due to the tight schedule, the producers preferred to bring on a general contractor to build the side porch and carport as I’d designed. And I wouldn’t have to work on the roof either since they’d subcontract its replacement as well. More good fortune as consolation.   

I really wanted to also demo the inside down to the studs, what was typical in the initial phase of any renovation. But because viewers would expect a payoff at the end, I agreed to us painting the exterior instead, from chocolate brown to something brighter.

It wasn’t what was laid out back in the fall, but it was still more than I could have imagined before any of this had started. I remained faithful that things would work out, and when my wife voiced her concerns, I reassured her that no matter what, we’d be alright. More than confident, I remained hopeful that I could take the project from however they left me and it.

Diann trusted me and I needed the producers to come through.  

*

It may soon read as if I’m whining and making excuses for not being great at my TV gig and capitalizing more on this opened door. And I have no issue preemptively apologizing for that. Yet, in order to explain how we started with the outside of the house, and answering some other questions, I’m aware that I have some explaining that could be interpreted as overly justifying or even something less venerable.

Here goes.

Once the film crew mobilized on my Summerville site and the Charleston peninsula, reality sank in how fun and interesting this would be with the challenge of having cameras on me steadily.

However, a new layer of haziness began to lift with it becoming clear that producers were taking on things differently than had been laid out for this one-episode long shot, or more importantly, what I’d been anticipating. The teams and crews on site seemed unaware or prepared for the agreement to include the carport, side porch, and roof as part of this pilot filming.

I’d changed, adjusted, and reworked my approach and expectations a lot. So, this latest situation was more than a hiccup for me. This was a giant crater in my newest revised plans.

In order for producers to stay tucked within their two-week window, they were driving everything, and this was far from all bad. They oversaw the schedule, budget, and lunch for me and producers. On some mornings, they even had donuts and coffee waiting when I arrived on site. And who doesn’t appreciate that sort of thoughtfulness? The production side was micro managed pretty thoroughly. Not to the minute, but strictly, impressively really, to each hour of every day excluding the one weekend, day one through ten.    

They also had an associate producer assigned to tell me what I should be wearing throughout each day. Although it was a fun distraction, this seemed unnecessary to me. In the Rehab Addict DVDs I’d been sent, Nicole Curtis worked in jeans or shorts and t-shirts, typical on sites like ours. But at show’s end, she was always dolled up, more like a realtor than a hands-on renovator, with fancier hair, makeup, and dressier clothes.

But the biggest issue that really threw me off more than I enjoy admitting, was that even though it was my house, for some show/series that had been described to me by others as mine, I was out of the loop, on the outside of any circle of collaboration. This meant that along with work on the production side, what I knew nothing about, I was also excluded from the planning, scheduling, and coordinating of the construction team and their scopes and activities, where my background was rooted and what had gotten me to that moment. And these were hearty punches to my gut, insulting and hurtful.

And with the revamped scope, this lack of inclusion was even more impactful since the people I’d spoken with on the phone the most, were not in the mix on site, but rather were off and hundreds of miles away working on other projects. What I’d been told was “a big deal,” was seeming less significant as this filming progressed.  

The reroof, side porch, and carport were all critical to my redesign, as well as interwoven with the logical sequencing and my perceived, altered progression of my rehab. I was expected to talk on camera about the project, but I was now uncomfortably nervous realizing I didn’t really understand what we were doing since it was so different than what I’d agreed to the week prior. I was confused, leading to obvious uncertainty I once again felt embarrassed over.  

Instead of a genuine effort to make a pilot that might be a chance at my own show or series pickup, it felt as if producers were trying to complete some sort of charity assignment to appease me and satisfy folks in Manhattan. Their focus was beyond brighter siding, and in lieu of the big three things I’d been regrouping over, causing me to wonder if network decision makers had redirected them to do other, alternative exterior improvements.

I needed to make up for the time I’d lost waiting—meat and potatoes, nuts and bolts, the early phase necessities. Yet producers were showering me with sizzle—a decadent arbor, French doors I wouldn’t need until the finish phase, landscaping and masonry that should come at the end, a new, super fancy garage door that would need to be protected from there on, etc.

Rather than an authentic home improvement show to teach and inspire viewers, producers were treating me like I was the winner of a once-in-a-lifetime experience to be a TV home renovator—they called me “the talent” and my clothes were “wardrobe.”

I’m not sure how else to describe it. It just seemed off, with me in this sea of smiling faces working hard at something so different than what I’d been prepped for.

Although I appreciated the kindness, generosity, and hospitality, starting the project on the exterior sent my mind racing over how this beginning at the end would impact my actual real-life plans and approach to continue on with the project afterwards.

I was up for facing this latest unexpected challenge. But to me this starting-on-the-outside-first approach was unnecessarily frustrating. Resurrecting an old, rotten, multiple addition house is hard enough without making unforced errors that just add to the difficulty. It was clear that a lot of time and money and effort was about to be wasted. Compounding this was the lost chance to recoup even more down the road by having the roof done now, as well as the carport and side porch as covered areas to work under and out of. Instead of me teaching people how to take on a challenging house, I was the main face on this featurette on how not to do it.

This approach was all made even more surprising with these being Rehab Addict people. They’d worked for years with Nicole Curtis. I’d just expected them to know all this even better than I did.

Starting with the initial redesigning of the house back in November, and then all the other misdirecting that had happened since, I’d reorganized so many times in the last three-plus months that I had lost track of revisions. My attitude of thankfulness was becoming cluttered with the reality of all the scopes that were being made harder and the beautiful new work that would have to be torn out and redone. To be honest, my fun and exciting experience was something of a heartbreak and I couldn’t understand why, other than my lack of experience and my over eagerness to start as usual—as soon as I left the closing table.

*

I hope this is coming out fair to all involved. To be crystal clear, the team of producers and contractors filming and working on the house could not have been nicer to my family and I. Given the three-month history creating these jumbled up circumstances, they did the best they could. However, I was out of sync on too much and it did feel as if they were patronizing me, just on the edge of being tolerable. Again, not their fault. There are reasons for this that all go back to me, things I did wrong that I knew of, but also mistakes lost in the fog.

It was absolutely thrilling to be the focus of all the attention, and I sincerely appreciated the effort being put forth on my behalf. But being honest with myself as I write, I was angry for botching this opportunity, for being so wide open to network and the production company just because they produced Rehab Addict. I shouldn’t have told Diann or anyone else what might be happening until I had written, signed off on agreements as a basis for my planning before starting.

But the thing is, I was afraid to push for anything binding, fearful that if I tried to lock down specifics, that my chance to see what it was like on the other side of the camera would disappear like a fleck of sawdust in the wind. I suppose that I’m now conceding that my faith had borders I was unwilling to recognize.

Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 42 - April 27, 2026