(Lead photo: Justin “Corndog” Cornette)

This past weekend was the fourth-annual Holley MoParty. In case you aren’t familiar with the program, Holley takes the show formula that they perfected with the original LS Fest event in Bowling Green and applies it to the Chrysler-minded folk. There’s plenty of racing going on, there’s some extra events to make life more fun, there’s plenty of show cars to check out, a manufacturer’s midway, an off-road section for you Jeep and truck people to get muddy in, and more that I’m probably forgetting. This year was the first time I’ve just enjoyed the event for what it is. Photography when I cared to shoot, walking when I felt like it, talking when I felt like it. Haley and I set up our shade behind my Charger and we soaked up a great time.

However, if you were to judge this event based on the Internet alone, you’d swear that Holley contracted the same group of mental deficients that put the Blue Ridge Rock Festival together to sort this one out, and frankly, that couldn’t be further from the truth. There’s a lot of anger directed towards this show and most of it is complete crap laid out by people who are just wanting to be angry at every little thing possible. So, let’s give them their moment in the sun.

Full disclosure: as some of you might be aware, between 2020 and May 2023, I worked for Holley. While I chose to voluntarily terminate my employment this year, I hold no ill will towards the company. I actually viewed MoParty as a pet project, something where my idiot savant-level of knowledge could do good. The people behind these events bust their ass every year to put on a show that everyone can enjoy…which is why I’m on the chip about keyboard warriors this year.

The fine print: What you are about to read is my own opinion. Not Chad’s, not BangShift’s, certainly not Holley’s. Mine and mine alone.

Buckle up, bitches.

COMPLAINT 1: “Holley isn’t having the General Lee jump this year! (insert irrational “woke” screaming afterwards).”

Fair play on one hand: a couple of weeks before MoParty, word started to spread that the General Lee Jump, which has been a huge attraction at all prior MoParty events, was cancelled. Whether you agree with their decision or not, it is the prerogative of Holley (a publicly-traded company) to make that call, and they did. James Smith, the stuntman and driver of the General Lee, has said that Holley took care of him for this year even though he wasn’t going to be there, that Holley has been good to him in the past, and that they are working on something for next year. It’s just a Crown Victoria with a ton of AMD metal on it. Calm the hell down. Besides, there was plenty of General Lee stuff to see, from the burnout car to toys in the swap meet.

COMPLAINT 2: “The General Lee should’ve won the burnout contest! Holley rigged it so that the General Lee couldn’t win!”

You’re kidding, right?

If you are unfamiliar with how the burnout contest works at a Holley event in Bowling Green, it’s simple: the circle track is the Roman Coliseum. Chad is your emperor, and the audience determines who wins or loses by how loud they roar. It’s really that simple. Holley picks the cars that get to participate in the burnout contest, yes. But once those gladiators enter the ring for their turn, that’s it. Holley folk could stomp and scream all they want, and it will do them no good.

In the case of Sleeperdude’s Gremlin, his throttle linkage popped off before he even turned a tire. Chad asked the crowd if they would let him fix it, the crowd agreed. The driver of the General Lee Charger that was in the contest, Geoff Bracken, did put on a hell of a show. So did the mid-1960s New Yorker that nobody saw coming, as did Dylan McCool’s turbocharged Diplomat. But in the end, Sleeperdude fixed the Gremlin, fired that thing up and sent the tires straight to Hell in a burnout that even an Aussie would tip their hat to. The audience loved it, end of story.

COMPLAINT 3: “The judging system at MoParty sucks!!! They never looked at my car and the judge picked some crappy thing instead! Waaaaah!”

Where do I begin. Holley’s judging system for the events switched up starting with MoParty 2022. Instead of a panel of judges, Holley put the power of the decision into the hands of two groups: a selection of influencers and professionals in the community who were attending the shows and a few people within Holley. Oh, and for one award, some kids. You want judges to come by and verify that your 1976 Plymouth Valiant has the correct paint marks, or that your 26,000-mile XJ Wagoneer is the best one in the country? Carlisle, Pennsylvania is a little over 700 miles to the northeast, and you’d better bring some water, because it’s a hot mother up there. Trust me, I learned this year. I’d rather see what a YouTuber who busts their ass to bring you free content every week or so likes, or what a 10-year-old thinks is cool versus the traditional choices. And yes, that Stratus was on the grounds, sitting like it was ready for another round of combat in Twisted Metal.

And hand-in-hand with this problem…

Complaint 4: “Why doesn’t Holley separate the cars by model/body/year?”

Because some of you [!]kers need to make new friends. Get over the historical car show mentality. You want to only be parked next to matching clones of your car? Go to Carlisle. Go to the Nats in Ohio. Go ANYWHERE but Bowling Green in September. We’ll have fun without your fastidious asses. If you require a trophy at every car show you attend to feel better about coming out, I can recommend a nice party store near the mall that carries little $5 “You did it!” trophies. Will that help?

Complaint 5: “It rained! It’s muddy! There’s no racing!”

Mother Nature can be a real bitch. Nothing we can do. Nothing you can do. Just be glad that it didn’t flood (like this poor soul got to experience in 2018) and that it wasn’t broiling-ass, swampy hot, like it normally is.

Complaint 6: “For the price I paid to get in, Holley staff need to do more for me!”

Like what? Holley has already created six major events for all kinds of gearheads (Ford, GM, Mopar, even EVs) to come play at in four different locations in the lower 48 States. Every September, the Holley team (and a fleet of extras like media, contract workers, track staff and more) bust their ass just for LS Fest East, MoParty and Ford Fest alone. It’s a whole month. Think of the logistics, the planning, the amount of  behind-the-scenes work that goes on with these events. I promise, you don’t want to know, it’s over a year in advance for each one. If you think that you should be seeing someone every hour on the hour with a fresh bottle of water, maybe you should’ve put more money into your restoration so that you wouldn’t have been denied a parking space at Pebble Beach.

For the most part, it seems like those who chose to attend had a great time, and for everyone who did, I hope you return in 2024 for the fifth-annual event, and if you’re close by, I also invite you to attend Ford Fest (September 28-October 1, 2023) and next year’s events. But for those who are still bent on crying about a show they don’t plan, don’t help with, and feel like owes them the world, stay home. I mean it. Keep your car in your garage, don’t come out. If you don’t know how to have a good time, then keep yourself in the only place you feel happy: behind the keyboard, bitching.