“Hope Laurence is doing well. Miss his photography & writing.”
I get sincerely really annoyed when I see things like this on Curbside Classic each time some old musty content I wrote is unearthed. It’s pretty easy to see that I’m doing well if effort were made to seek out where I’ve been or what I’ve done. I absolutely loathe being dragged back into a graveyard as a ghost.
It always happens when there’s resharing of material I Curbside Classic, some of it a decade old at this stage. It’s been 5 years since I requested Paul Niedermeyer stop re-sharing my old material. It never was labor I was compensated for. I had stopped sharing content on Curbside Classic because of toxic behavior on the behalf of Paul towards me and other contributors to Curbside Classic. Never mind the fact that vintage automobilia is typically a toxic environment for anyone that isn’t white, conservative, CIS-Gendered and Male. I’m sure if I went into CC’s comment section and capitalized Black but not white all hell would break all (blue)-lives-matter loose.
I’ll try to give some consideration of your request, but I’m not going to promise that there won’t be any more, although I think a fairly high percentage of your CCs from this period have already re-run.
A am willing to add a line about your new site and a link at the bottom of any further re-runs.
All the best,
It’s been 5+ years since he sent the above response to my request, yet this week, there’s still re-running of the content I wrote, majority of it using photography I took as well. It irritates as it happens in contrast to places where I get paid for writing, such as my current work for Tasteful Rude. Writing I can take pride in, writing that seems to push forward in dismantling narrow perceptions of existence rather than basking in a very narrow nostalgic revisioning of the past. Often that rose colored recollection of the past is wholly influenced by self importance and defensive emotions that have no understanding of boundaries or respect.
Laurence is beyond redemption with me. I wasted an hour and a half to bare my books to prove to him that the amount of money generated by his (or anyone else’s) posts here is absolutely peanuts. I did it because he’s been grinding away at some monetary injustice.
Turns out it was much worse than that: I “berated” him in numerous e-mails! And other emotional injustices. I have absolutely no clue what he’s talking about. When Stephanie and I were in the Bay Area back in 2012, we made a huge point to go out of our way to invite him to a nice dinner, and fawned over him. I always treated him with courtesy and professionalism.
His neediness is obviously way beyond what I can (or could ever have) met. I don’t know what his problem is, but I’m moving on.
End of subject.
That was a back end email shared with me. If I am “beyond redemption” wouldn’t one just like, stop recycling that person’s content? Why would someone subject themselves to past trauma unless a personal/professional vendetta gave someone some visceral thrill, some kind of almost erotic charge? For the person on the receiving end, the level of vitriol is ridiculous, sad, pathetic. Yet at the same time, the dedication to extend the grievance by holding onto control of material for a decade and counting is impressive in how pitiful it is.
There’s a lot of people that wonder why I’ve written far less about cars in the years since. The sad truth is the car enthusiast world is filled with sad boys in full grown men’s bodies that throw massive tantrums about facing any responsibilities or realities beyond their toys. My understanding and love of Automobiles has always been intersectional with the complexities, the doom and delight of the motor vehicle. The implied freedom, the realistic prison of them and the nuances of delight and danger they encapsulate with each explosion of a cylinder or rotation of a wheel.
The way we’ve delegated space, decided who has and has not because of The Car™ in the United States is a rich story. Often white men sitting in the corners of the internet reliving their pasts have no bandwidth to understand their ultimate fantasy of manifest destiny via a Small Block Chevrolet might be peak white mediocrity bolstered by mindless, marketed consumerism. The automobile is the most beguiling tool of American Capitalism. As we watch late stage capitalism crumble and bury more than 500,000 Americans in its decay, where does it fit?
As you know, it’s against our commenting policy to make overtly political comments. And this comment was hardly borderline.
If you want to retain commenting privileges at CC, I ask you to respect that policy and refrain from any further ones with a political message. This is not the place to vent your political frustrations.
As seen, it’s not a fit for Curbside Classic.
Or many other places, be it say, The Freewheeler’s Car Club I was a member of, or Malaise Motors, another space I tried to be physically present in but found unwelcoming for being more than someone that could talk about shitboxes that could barely get out of their way ad nauseam. I’m tentatively active in the local Corvair club cause, well, Corvairs are weird, and still appeal to weirdos on the fringe in still fringe-proud Bay Area California. It’s not a phenomenon that’s rare. It’s the norm.
So I don’t write as much as I used to. I use my energy towards the gift of the word wisely, in other places of interest I love, like old music, astrology, or concern about social justice causes.
If you wonder whatever happened to….
….I’m not dead. Maybe what I wrote about that stroked your interest might be dead, and your curiosity might be a little dormant.
(And be a doll, and ask that asshole Niedermeyer to let whatever I wrote for Curbside Classic live in the cemetery with the rest of the bones of contributors past instead of trying to re-animate it like a new version of Weekend at Bernie’s).