|Well, this is as good a time as any to vent:
I MIGHT go next year, but I'm not putting ANY effort into dealing with the BM bureaucracy.
I started contacting them last April about artcar camp. There was a lot of interest among the artcar community, and I didn't see anyone else coming forward, so I thought it best to take on the task myself. I was as diplomatic and cooperative as is humanly possible.
I asked the BM bureaucrats repeatedly what they needed from us. What I got back was a pithy email saying that artcar people were too disorganized, that we couldn't be counted on, that we weren't communicating.
What the fuck was my contacting them about? Was that not communication? And pulling out bullshit that was literally years old and had been discussed ad nauseum and using it to make decisions about how to place us or treat us this year? I assured them that the mistakes of the past wouldn't happen again, that I would be responsible, that I wanted things to work out to everyone's satisfaction.
I kept on the diplomatic front for months. To no effect. I couldn't get them to clarify just where the hell the camp was. I couldn't get past the illiterate morons in charge of theme camps to anyone who knew what was being planned for us.
After finally getting some info on placement, I busted my ass to show up early on Monday to make sure we had our space. Very little contact from the organizers for this effort.
Then, to top it off, they put people entirely outside of the artcar community in the position of being artcar critics. Being told my car "wasn't an artcar" was the last fucking straw. Yes, my car is subtle.
It doesn't hit you over the head. But it has won awards at three different artcar shows, one of them a major award to the tune of many $$$. Literally hundreds of people have come to talk to me to tell me how much they liked and appreciated my car... okay, enough of that, my "humility" light is coming on.
All I really wanted in return was a bit of acknowledgement, maybe some thanks for setting things up for them, and a measly fucking permit to drive around a bit with my other artcar pals. That was all. Nothing else.
No dice. After kissing BM bureaucratic ass over and over, repeatedly begging them to contact me, to fill me in, to let me know what they needed, this was the thanks I got. That, and our camp being stuck out in the middle of goddamn nowhere.
Fuck that shit. I might go to BM as a social occassion, but they used up every last ounce of my patience with this last round, they will get no more effort from me. I intend to stay far away from the BM organization. If that makes me a spectator, so be it. That'd put me in good company with the other 90% of people who've attended these last few years.
God, that felt good.