Sometimes people move. And on occasion, when the celestials lineup, these moving people need help. And sometimes they need a lot of help.
And so, here I am, going to California, to make a trip out of saying farewell to some truly golden amigos (Dave and Syd) who will call L.A. their new headquarters. I might do a spot of driving along the way too. We'll see.
We roll out on the morrow, U-haul style. We got the 12-footer. It has a big walrus on the side of it. I feel this can only be a good omen. Like the ancient eskimos of the north used to say: "a walrus a day keeps the engine trouble at bay." Or something like this. It doesn't translate so well.
So goodbye, Sooner state. I'll be back soon enough, but sans two compadres. But we don't have to get to that part just yet. There's still about 1,600 miles to go.
Super Dave, loading miscellaneous crap for a killer last-minute Goodwill run.
I'm taking the more managerial, supervisor role in this whole thing.
We're also gonna spend New Year's Eve at the Wigwam Village in Arizona. Boss. I'm excited. Nothing like a concrete tee pee motel room to ring in the new year, eh? I find I'm easily amused. Cheap thrills, people. The best kind. Oh, and we're gonna have fireworks too. The deluxe accommodation package, most def.
As a side rant, I'm realizing more and more my hatred for owning stuff. Perhaps it's the fact that I've helped a good number of people move this year (a good remedy for accumulation). I don't know.
The ownership of material goods feels emotionally oppressive to me. And when you're straining your back over the matter, physically oppressive too. Here are some rules I think the congress should usher right into the law books, effective immediately:
1) If you own china, for the love, use it! If you don't use it X amount of times per year, you must get rid of it by means of violent destruction in the shaming presence of famous homemakers (i.e. Martha Stewart).
2) You shall never own anything made mostly of glass. This is a terrible furniture material and should by no means be moved lengthy distances to subsequent dwelling places. Melt it down. Shatter it. Turn it back into sand. But just. Don't. Move it.
3) Futon mattresses will hereby be forbidden on all accounts. They are hellishly un-wieldly and unfit for manual human transportation.
4) Adopt the motto: "We don't need this much flipping crap!" Use it often. Catechize yourself with it. You will learn to like the results it produces.
5) Follow the above rules in accordance to the law, BUT: In the end, it's really better to SELL ALL and start with NOTHING in said new location. Trust me. It's the best option.
These should be the rules. Our country would be a better place. Our backs would be healthier. Our spirits lighter. Our moving-buddy friends happier. And our homes more blissfully modest.
Seriously. We don't need this much flipping crap. Do we?
NOTE: this post in no way reflects the negative moral character of Dave and Syd on account of them owning stuff. and honestly, they are quite modestly loaded. praise the good fortune gods.