Picture this: me, a wide-eyed shutterbug, snapping a killer shot of the one and only Jesse James at some dusty off-road race years ago. I tossed it onto my Flickr page like a digital tumbleweed, along with a pile of other weekend pics, and didn’t give it a second thought. Just another day in the life of a guy with a camera and a dream, right?
Fast forward a few years, and I’m casually cruising the West Coast Choppers website—y’know, admiring the badass bikes and soaking in the outlaw vibes—when BAM! There it is: my photo, front and center, staring back at me like a smug bandit. Jesse James and his crew had swiped it, slapped it on their homepage, and didn’t even have the decency to toss me a “Photo by That Guy” credit. Rude much?
So, I fired off a polite little email—think of it as a digital “ahem”—asking for a shoutout. Crickets. Nada. Zilch. They kept using it like I’d handed them the keys to my photo album and said, “Go wild, fellas!”
Now, let’s zoom ahead to 2019, where the plot thickens like a good barbecue sauce. I’m at the Stadium Super Truck race in Austin, living my best motorsport life, when I get the chance to visit Jesse James himself at his lair—er, facility. Face-to-face with the man, the myth, the photo thief, I couldn’t resist. “Hey, Jesse,” I say, all casual-like, “what’s up with you guys using my pic?” And this legend, this titan of choppers and chaos, looks me dead in the eye and drops the most gloriously dismissive line ever: “It’s the internet.”
And you know what? The man was right. It is the internet—a lawless Wild West where your pics are fair game, and the only rule is there are no rules. I walked away from that encounter half-annoyed, half-impressed, and fully enlightened.
These days, I don’t clutch my photos like some precious Gollum with a ring. If I put ‘em out there, they’re meant to roam free—galloping across the digital plains, watermarks be damned. I mean, who needs ‘em? Vivian Maier, the nanny-turned-secret-photography-genius, sealed the deal for me. That woman shot masterpieces, stashed ‘em in boxes, and kicked the bucket without anyone knowing. I’m not about that life. My pics aren’t dying in a dusty attic—they’re out there, living their best chaotic internet existence.
So here’s to you, Jesse James, you magnificent photo-bandit. You taught me a lesson with three little words. It’s the internet, baby—hold on tight or let it ride!
Portfolio on Flickr
