Moving is among the most stressful things that can happen in the average person’s life. It may not be at the top, but it makes the list and I have yet to talk to anyone who is overjoyed at the prospect of boxing up their lives and living the chaos of not having access to your junk at one residence and reorganizing at the other.
MM: “Where’s my underwear?”
Mrs. MM: “You packed them. You ought to be able to find them. If not, you just go commando?”
So those are the minor details and time will get us organized again. The real fun is getting people together, filling up that Uhaul and all the goofiness that goes along with a bunch of non-professionals pretending to know what they are doing. Me...I drive the truck and pack the back like a Tetris pro. King size bed at the back, couch here, desk there, fill holes with boxes and try not to break stuff or scratch Mrs. MM's furniture. Remember those luggage commercials with the gorillas tossing around bags? Well, we just can't allow that.
Packing the truck goes pretty well. We manage to get everything we wanted into it plus quite a few items we thought would have to go on a second trip. Down goes the back door of the truck. Our friends start taking off to meet us at the new house and I hop into the cab of the Uhaul, slip the key into the ignition, fire that baby up, put it in gear and step on the gas. Rrrrrrrrr spin the tires as I go nowhere. "What the..." I say to myself as the stench of burning rubber wafts through my nostrils, "how come I'm not moving?"
Out I jump from the cab. Mrs. MM looking not too pleased informs me that we seem to have the trailer hitch stuck on the small rise in our driveway. Shit! High centered in my own drive. I am pissed that I've done something stupid....again.
At this point everyone involved in the move becomes an expert engineer. Neighbor Brian grabs wood planks and a hammer from his garage and starts shoving them under the tires that just don't seem to want to touch ground completely. My mother-in-law starts randomly shoving two by fours around the end of the bumper and calls her husband asking him to drive over with a big length of pipe. I grab a pry bar from my garage (thank God I didn't throw it in the back just to fill a little more space). Mrs. MM puts her driving expertise to good use.
We rock and push and pry and smoke tires and try more wood and gravel and chanting and do an 'unstick my truck' dance. Nothing. We huddle and try more of the same but this time I stick my pry bar under the trailer hitch and stand on it. We move about a half an inch. No one notices but me. So we try more rocking and pushing and gravel. I stand on the pry bar and start jumping up and down on it. Miraculously and through all our efforts we sccccraape off the rise in the drive and are ready to move again....45 minutes later.
Mrs. MM drives the truck around the corner and parks it. When she returns neighbor Brian is putting his detective hat on and analyzing the scrapes the truck's hitch made in the driveway that have left a clear 'N' like shape.
"Looks like he backed up once, scraped just a little on this rise then moved forward and backed up harder a second time to get further up the driveway," he surmises. "That's why it high centered. He made two runs at it to get it more stuck the second time."
Yes, I used my best testosterone laden punch to the gas to see how far up the driveway I could get this baby when I parked it. The first effort wasn't good enough, so I did it again. Truth be known I wasn't really surprised when it was high center, I was just hoping to get enough traction to pull it off the rise. As Homer Simpson said in his sing-song fashion - "I am smart SMRT, I mean SMART."
What would a move be without a memorable moment to tell the grandchildren. I bet you've had your own memorable move. Wanna share?