Over the years, I have had many moving experiences. Nineteen to be exact. I moved out of my parent’s house when I was 21 and over the last 32 years, it’s been 19 moves. I’m sure at some point there will be another, and probably another.
It’s not that I like to live a gypsy lifestyle. Well, I do admit to some liking of it, as a new place to live is so invigorating. There are lots of bonuses to moving around so much, including the chance to rearrange your stuff and in my case, get rid of a bunch of stuff I obviously didn’t need.
As such, I have decided that this is actually a secondary career of mine – moving. I know all the ins and outs, from how to load a car onto a trailer to how to get all those clothes on hangers out of your house quickly and easily without creasing them. But we’ll get to that little tip in a moment.
I know all about the world of rental trucks and the fact that rarely do you need moving blankets or that handtruck you’re sure you’re going to get a lot of use out of, but rarely do. I know that banker’s boxes from the office supply store are the perfect boxes for moving, because they hold a lot of stuff without ever being too heavy and they stack perfectly in the truck like Legos. You never have to think about how this oversized box needs to go on the bottom. Simply load everything in, cross stacking as needed for stability. If you have a big screen TV, put down a single layer of the boxes, put down a blanket and lay the sucker down on it. It will ride all the way to hell and back in complete comfort and safety.
Now, there have been times when I have had too much stuff. This seems to have occurred at three different points in my life when circumstances required that I winnow down all my worldly possessions into a mini-van or worse, a 1972 Pinto. Now, you’d think this would be traumatic to anyone, given the fact that we become pretty attached to our stuff.
I don’t really remember many of the things I ever had. What I needed again, I acquired, often at an alarming pace. When I came from Seattle to Orlando, I had four large UPS boxes of office stuff that was shipped down initially, a suitcase on the plane, and the back end of my Ford Windstar loaded up to the middle seat. That’s it. Everything else stayed behind. When I moved to the island last year, I had a 20′ moving van that was filled to the brim.
Where all this stuff comes from, I don’t know. And you think I would, being a Residential Travel Consultant. I swear that sometimes in the night, people break into my house as I sleep and put stuff in it, not take it away. Before I know it, the stuff won’t fit in a mini van any longer. I need a freaking moving van.
So, as a Residential Travel Consultant, have I acquired any useful skills? You betcha! I know how to sign a lease. I know that it’s really not worth cleaning your apartment perfectly when you move out because they don’t suck that much out of your damage deposit and I hate cleaning toilets and the stove. I understand the importance of having lots of rope handy when you’re moving a long distance. Those boxes love to shift around. I know to that you never pack the box with the toilet paper first. I learned to check all the faucets and plumbing while touring the unit. I know you should never move into the same building that has a mariachi band and an Asian woman who only knows how to cook fish… smelly fish. I never get a ground floor unit if I can possibly help it. I try to buy light furniture, so I can keep my friends longer. When you’re in between relationships go with the premium cable package and always have a DVR. Always get a unit with a washer and dryer or invest in lots of Fabreeze. And parking… be sure it’s plentiful or no one with ever visit you.
As a Residential Travel Consultant, I am a great packer. I love to pack. There is just something so exciting about putting everything into boxes and marking them B1, B2, Kit, Bath1, Bath2, LR and so on. I like to start packing really early, as soon as I know I’m moving.
You’d think as an experienced RTC I would not rush to pack. But packing is very cathartic for me. It’s kind of a Zen experience. And when I arrive at my new place, it’s like Christmas all over again. You rediscover your stuff one box at a time. I think that’s why I can remember so much of my past. I get to visit them regularly it seems.
I’ve also learned that furniture can easily be replaced. So can beds and dishes. The only things I ever haul around all over creation are the things that define me as, well, me. It’s the memories, the souvenirs, the trinkets… things that mean nothing else to another living soul but which create the continuity I need in my life. I like to think of the nomads of the desert. They carry along just the essentials they need during their travels. And while George Carlin once proposed that the only things we need are in our wallet, I profess that I need just a bit more than that.
I still like to kid myself that all my stuff will still fit in the back of a mini van. But I don’t own a mini van anymore. Instead, it’s a Saturn VUE which is pitifully poor for any kind of gypsy nomadic activity.
Fortunately, I have the moving vans on speed dial. I only wish they would give me Frequent Moving Miles… by now I could have moved to Europe on them.
Out on the Treasure Coast, not a banker box in site (oops, sorry, there’s one right here by my foot with photos that have moved with me 19 times),
– Robb
MOVING TIP: Here’s how to move your clothes easily. Lay out your biggest light blanket or sheet on the floor. Take all your clothes still on the hangers and lay them down on it. Change the direction with each layer so the hangers don’t get too bulky. When you’re through, tie it up like a bundle, two opposite sides first, then the other two. It is so easy to move and minimizes wrinkling. If you are on an upper floor (not too high), throw the bundle out the window instead of lugging it down the stairs.