Moving day, or why we have friends...

I dreaded Saturday, and looked forward to it.

On Friday, a friend of mine reminded me that I had agreed (provisionally) to help with a move.
That was my second mistake. Having friends was the first... But both these guys have been watching my back since the early 80's; so there's NO way... and it's Ken's dad... who really needs the help. (At 80, the only thing you should be lifting is the tv guide, and maybe a golf club... if you're really in good shape).

So, Friday night I'm in the local bar (McGees) having a beer, salad and making arraingments to drive out to Palmdale (about an hour) to meet up at 7 am. That was my third mistake...
... and my ex-boss/friend tries to hook me up with a couple local ladies that he's talking to... (because he can); and I'm just happy to hang... 'cause I know how this goes. (I escape at midnight... or did they?)

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The only good thing about the morning, is I remembered to not only load the two dolly's; one with air-tires and the pump. I did say early morning...?

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Up at O-dark hour; and off to Palmdale an hour from Chatsworth. I arrive; my friend gotten a 24 foot lift-gate truck! (Overkill?) we drive over to the storage place... and it's standard height/width (like a 10x12 room; excepting it's DOUBLE-deep!). Oh crap. We start out (rusty at this) inefficent as hell, and get our swing back after a bit... the place is FILTHY. Dust clouds just by walking past the boxes; let alone picking any of them up.

We moved, records, books, old tube-electronic equipment, magazines, unopened domestic items (paper toilet seat covers? -- wtf?), old mail from 10 years ago... and massive quantities of undefinable *stuff*. Remember George Carlin talking about stuff versus crap? There was also lumber; apparently left over from various projects including a re-roof sometime in the distant past. No, I'm not kidding...

And there's more...

WE FILLED a 24 FOOT TRUCK.

Floor to CEILING; Front to Back; and packed reasonably well considering. Then, we drove it all the way to Lake Los Angeles...

Can't get the truck up the driveway; it's steeper than the back of the truck allows; can't back up the driveway, same thing; ... we spend an hour plus trying. The only thing we succeded at (immediately) was busting the hydraulics line that runs the liftgate. Dammit. The truck bed is 5 feet above ground. And, it Gets better.

See, now we can't lower the liftgate, can't position the truck near the destination to unload, and have to muscle all the load out of the truck by hand...

and we find that we have to dolly the load around the back about 100-200 feet via a gravel path. Ever try to run a dolly on a gravel path? Serious arobic workouts have nothing on this. It's like pulling a volkswagen beetle on a rope; thru the sand at the beach.

Some one can figure out how many loads we did (approximately) given that the truck cargo area was 10 feet wide, 7 feet tall, and 24 feet deep; and the only non-moving box items in it were two metal mechanics benches (locked, with stuff inside); three bicycles of rusted ancestry, a big 6' high rolly tool box and some wood. Enough wood to keep your fireplace burning brightly all winter.

Whatever.

I'm a software engineer, dammit. I gave up swamping trucks after college. I'm old, tired and not used to this!

My friend's Dad... really did appreciate it. And said so, and meant it.

I really do love these guys; but...

I hurt. I hurt ALL over.

And remember the law enforcement concept "scared straight"?

I'm going to clean out my garage. Now, before it's too late.

(maybe now they'll help )...