friends


30
Jul 10

We hereby resolve …

… To never move in July or August again.

The heat index was 108 at one point. We are so glad we hired movers. This company sent two young men who worked hard, sweat a lot, were courteous, extremely careful and did a terrific job. Those two guys were worth every penny.

The company did the estimate based on our self-reporting and then a phone call. The person that conducted the phone call interview erred in a big way. We did not have a big enough truck. The company couldn’t see beyond this error, and I couldn’t see allowing the company to profit from its own mistake.

Meanwhile, those two guys were doing a great job moving a lot of stuff on a ridiculously hot day.

So we scrambled for Plan B, which is hard to do on a Friday, at the end of the month just as college kids are getting ready to go to campus. There aren’t a lot of extra trucks sitting around.

Finally we found a little van which ably handled the overflow. The day started at about 7:30 and ran far, far, far too long. Even though we were well organized and fairly streamlined, even though The Yankee did an insane amount of work and I did my bit too, it still was not an uneventful day.

Moving is a nightmare, everyone knows this. But at least and at last you’ve made it to the point where the nightmare is upon you, rather than a pensive weight. Finally, you can just move stuff, move it again and then be finished with the exercise. Even if it seemed you’d never be finished during the preparation. Especially if it seems you’ll never be finished on the fateful day.

I picked up a late lunch on the way out of town. I complimented the guy at the Chick-fil-A window for doing me an extra little favor. He seemed surprised by that, but the day was such by then that I needed to compliment someone as much as he needed to hear a compliment. And the move wasn’t even bad, really. We had the help, who were indispensable. We had the heat, which was ridiculous. We had the mad scramble to solve a problem, where we lucked out. Still: it was a day of serious moving.

We’ll be ready, soon, to never speak of it again.

But we must speak of our friends. On the days when you find you need your friends the most, you are at your most grateful for whatever thankless task they are willing to endure with you.

RaDonna came by in the late morning and was able to spend a few hours with us. She was a big shot of momentum when we needed the help, in between her own big day of chores.

Brian came after he finished work for the day and did his usual Brian best. I’m hard pressed to think of anyone who’s ever been more giving to friends than Brian has always been to us. Moving someone in 100-plus temperatures — always with a smile, always with a good suggestion and always ready to work hard —  has to be up there.

Oh, sure, he’d tell you it got him out of a baby shower, but he didn’t have to spend the day moving boxes to avoid that.

On the other end of the day Fin helped unload boxes. He said when and where, we told him, he showed up and he sped the second half of the process along in smooth fashion.

We still had to change a car battery and run another round of errands, and it was a long, late, bruising, lacerating, sweaty day. But we’re done with it. We’re moved.


29
Jul 10

The pre-move

The heat index only made it up to 99 degrees today. And I did my part, I tried, to get that last extra degree so I could say “Hey, I moved furniture in triple-digit temperatures today.”

Because 99, somehow, doesn’t sound impressive.

And that’s when you know sunstroke has set in.

So the recliner went downstairs to the garage. One of the rocking chairs joined its mate. The living room chair found its way safely into the garage. Numerous boxes, all of our books all made it downstairs. The plan, since the move is tomorrow, is to sling everything from the garage onto the truck and call it a day.

This evening we packed up the kitchen. All of our clothes have been dutifully stored in wardrobe boxes. Later I’ll tear down the network and pack up the televisions.

Even still, I managed to do three voiceovers this morning. But the place looks entirely different from that, even 12 hours later. Now it looks like a cardboard factory explosion.

Pie Day

We had our last regular Pie Day with Ward tonight. (Incidentally, that’s the banana cream pie, which is new to Jim ‘N’ Nicks, and quite tasty.)

Ward

I’m a fairly sappy and sentimental person, and waxing on about it is possible, and would be silly. Ward, there, has looked after us for a long time. We’ve been coming here for five-and-a-half years. This is as much a part of our history and social culture as anything else we do. And we’ll still make it here when we are in town visiting, but this was our last regular visit.

Yes, barbecue means that much. Pie means that much. That it was the first excuse I had to get my eventual wife to have a bite to eat with me means even more. (As I’ve mentioned before, it was a competitor’s waitress’ line about how “Friday is Pie Day” that cinched the deal. When The Yankee and I were standing in a parking lot one afternoon I impulsively invited her for a barbecue sandwich. She hedged. And then I invited her for pie. Friday, I said, is Pie Day. You just can’t argue with logic like that, friends.)

We’ve had untold celebrations here. Birthdays, graduations, quiet nights of dinner for two, loud nights of dinner for a dozen. This has always been our date night and we’ve always incorporated everyone that wanted to come. I used to keep count of the people, stopping somewhere around four dozen, that joined us for Pie Day.

And now when I mention it — or even when I don’t mention it — on Twitter people respond to it even people I haven’t yet met in person.

Sure, The Yankee and I will still have Pie Day. Yes, I’m looking forward to finding the new home for the event. But, still, I hold onto things, tightly and closely. And this has been a wonderful event worth holding onto for a long time now.

We managed to sit in the same table where we ate there the first time.

And now, so I don’t waste any more of your time on it, cute cat pictures:

She's helping.

She’s helping.

She stopped helping ...

She stopped helping.

And now for a late night and early morning of last minute panic packing…


25
Jul 10

On the road again

So we drove down to Auburn this afternoon. We’re spending a few days there, which meant packing in the midst of packing. Meta-packing, by the way, is a task best left to the professionals. Where are those extra pair of socks, anyway?

We’re spending the night in an extended stay hotel, where a very nice young woman checked us in. She asked us about our visit. We’re moving here.

“I would live in Birmingham over Auburn,” she says.

Why?

“There are no jobs here,” she replies.

It is a college town, small place, lots of young people willing to work jobs with flexible schedules and low pay. She had lime green hair. Fortunately The Yankee and I long ago outgrew that stage of life where you move somewhere first and found the job second.

Mellow Mushroom

We hit Mellow Mushroom for dinner. We split a sausage, house special pizza and pretzels. I love Mellow Mushroom and that is the best wood carving in any of their restaurants. Each one of the franchises has one, most relating to the local mascot or, failing any particular ties to sport and culture a giant psychotic mushroom. The eagle-on-tiger motif is the best of the bunch.

During the eventual post-apocalyptic period some enterprising young college student will burn precious fuel to make his way there, break into this place, sample the beer taps and load that sculpture onto the back of his pickup truck. Sure, he might lose a friend or two to the zombies in the process, but it will look so sweet in the fraternity house.

Fin joined us for dinner. We’ve drafted him to help us unload things when the truck makes it to town. It is good to have free labor at the other end of your long day.

We had leftovers for our refrigerator in our little room and DVDs to watch. Tomorrow we’ll wake up and hit the realtor’s and then the lawyer’s office where, I’m told, I’ll sign approximately 97,000 pieces of paper.

I forgot my signature stamp.


22
Jul 10

Remembering radio

Of the many things that have recently floated to the surface in the cleaning and packing are stacks and stacks of cassette tapes from my years in radio. I broadcast for eight years, what seems like a lifetime ago. When I consolidated the tapes in the cleaning of the garage it turned into one impressive box full of old material.

I’ve been hanging onto them because I’ve promised myself (for years, now) that I’d one day listen to them and digitize the good stuff. Somewhere in all those many tapes there has to be two or three good air checks. The world needs, I figure, dated jokes, aging soundbites and hard news leads delivered in a young man’s voice.

Mostly I keep the tapes to keep me humble. Putting one in and pressing play would crack me up, or make me grimace, for hours.

While I learned early on I was no disc jockey, thank goodness, I did turn into a strong news anchor and sports reporter. I had another dip into that memory today, when I had dinner with my radio mentor Chadd Scott. He taught me a lot, because he learned from a great one, who learned from two greats. We learned a lot together because when we worked together Chadd and I found ourselves in a position where the bosses left us alone to make mistakes. We created more successes than failures, though.

He’s in town from Atlanta for SEC Media Days. Since he made the trip, we’d asked him to pick us up a bookshelf from Ikea. He drug it across the state line, crammed into his car with his colleague and intern. I think he made his intern go fetch the bookshelf from the store, which would be the silliest thing I’ve ever had an intern do.

My own internship at ACES, once upon a long time ago, was an excellent experience. There were three communication specialists and me doing the job of six or eight people. I built web pages, produced television, practiced photography and dark room skills, wrote for newspapers, cut audio for radio and more. The least consequential thing I ever did was to collate photo copies, and that was a necessary thing for my projects. My internship was so useful I’ve always been conscientious to help interns have the opportunity to receive a similar experience.

And now some young man has been sent to Ikea to pick up a bookshelf in my name.

We had dinner with Chadd and Chuck Oliver and others tonight.  We talked Internet, where just maybe I returned the favor and gave Chadd a little practiced advice.They are working on a big project, one I’m looking forward to seeing this fall.

The Yankee and I each enjoyed a frosty for dessert. I recorded two voiceovers. (Anybody need voice work? I used to be in radio, you know … ) We watched a bit of television and packed more. We’ve only a week more of this to go!


16
Jul 10

Pie Day

Clinkies at Pie Day

Brian took this on his iPhone. Sad, happy times, since Pie Day will be changing and this one will be the last with the regulars for a while. Love you guys, mean it.