Thoughts on a moving experience

For those of you contemplating moving in the near future, a word of advice. Don’t!

Even if your house is burning down around you and your moustache is getting singed as you stand there (women readers may disregard this last image – well, unless it applies, I suppose). Don’t fall into the moving trap. It truly is a trap. Oh, is it a trap!

My wife and I are in the process of moving from our small place to a larger place (it looks as though this “process” we are “in” will last at least 28 or 29 years – by the way, when you move from a small place to a large place aren’t you supposed to have more room, not less?).

When I was a bachelor, moving was easy. A lot of people don’t know this, but the key article in moving for a bachelor is a of keg of beer. The first step is the keg is placed at the location to be moved to.
Then, you invite friends over to the old location and tell them that a full keg of beer is waiting at the new place and as soon as the U-Haul is full, you’ll all head over to the keg where it will be tapped and enjoyed. You will see things fly into the U-Haul.

If you own any expensive breakables that “flying into the U-Haul” part may not be a positive, but basically, bachelors don’t own breakable things except a television and probably a DVD player, and if the individual being moved is smart, he has already taken those over to the new place and has hidden them in the closet farthest from the keg.
It should be noted if you are contemplating using this technique, don’t get confused and have the keg at the “moving from” house. That can cause problems. I did that once, and while we found the driver of the U-Haul a few days later two states away wearing one of my shirts, a fencing mask and a lime green Nehru jacket I had forgotten I owned, we are still looking for the truck.

But after you have married, everything changes. You are expected to move in a civilized fashion (“civilized moving” – isn’t that an oxymoron?). My wife has numbered, lettered and color-coded all of our possessions. Apparently the number stands for what room it comes from, the letter stands for what box it goes in and the color stands for how important the stuff is and when it is to be opened.

I just saw her cat walking by and it was not happy. Apparently its food dish is not scheduled to be unpacked for a couple days. Actually I’m a bit worried about telling the cat even more of the specifics of the move.
You see, it is wearing a red “3”,”C” sticker on its hind end. Which if I read the moving booklet, that my wife has now compiled, it means the cat is scheduled to be unpacked about three days later than his food dish and as near as I can figure he is scheduled to be packed with the china.
Who knows, he may be angry because he has figured out the color, letter, number coding and already knows where he is going to be placed.

I have a friend that said he has come up with an ideal way of avoiding the problems associated with moving.

“Every time my wife decides we need to move, I go on a two day drunk,” said my friend knowingly.

“How does that help with all the packing, loading, schlepping and unpacking?” I asked in all innocence.

“Well,” he said, winking at me, “she always kicks me out of her life for a week whenever I go on a bender, so by the time she’s ready to take me back, all the moving is done.”

While this may seem like a good idea for next time, it’s probably too late for me on this move.

I do have a question about this move, though.

Why do I have a black sticker with the number “4” and the letter “R” on my forehead?