So Long, Thanks for Putting Up With Me

I hesitated writing anything to mark this occasion, as the risk of verbal diarrhea — some of it potentially maudlin — is ever-present. Yet here I am, typing a farewell missive to you, dear reader.

The time has come to try something else, something new, so this will be my last post at a publication that’s been my home for the past four years or so. 

Sometimes impostor syndrome doesn’t let up. It didn’t in this case, and many — readers, those in the journo sphere — might say “with good reason.” You’ll notice I never referred to myself as a journalist, only as a writer or your author. There was a reason for that, and not just because of my feelings about some of the Borg-like sermon deliverers in this business.

None of those here at TTAC, though. I’m not being disingenuous when I say the good people I’ve worked with here are some of the best I’ve ever met. Their presence was a reassuring balm for the soul; shelter from the storm of our fractured and polarized culture. Our discussions were lively and varied and hilarious, and no one had to fear ostracization or expulsion for expressing a dissenting opinion in our Slack chats — be it about cars, politics, or life. Maybe that makes TTAC special.

Scratch that, I know it does.

No, I won’t reappear at some other outlet, nor in a politician’s office (God forbid), nor deep within the bowels of an automaker I’ve always carried a torch for, so you won’t get to hear me mouth something about exerting my will as a relative nobody to make the industry better from within. It’ll carry on doing what it does — chasing mobility projects that drain my arteries of hot plasma and leave me fearing the future.

So, having said all that, I leave you in the hope that something I wrote over these past many months and years caused you to crack a smile.

It’s been a privilege.

[Image: Steph Willems/TTAC]

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