Moving To Florida

MOVING TO FLORIDA

We were living in New York and fairly content when Nana announced that she wanted to relocate to Florida.  Geoff, my nine year-old son, was horrified at the thought of his grandmother living so far away so I rented a truck – the biggest I could get.  My Mother’s household and ours would surely fit in a 24 footer, with room to spare.  I had friends who would help me load the truck.  However, when loading day came, I had no friends, they had disappeared.  Geoff and I could load the truck.  We had some furniture and a lot of boxes.  How hard could it be? 

* * * * *

It was July 31.  We started at 8 AM with the antique armoire.  It’s 5’ tall and 4’ wide - it weighs more than I did.  Geoff and I slid it to the stairs.  We lived upstairs in a two-family house.  (We never do anything easy.)  I got on the steps, tipped the armoire and wrestled with it until it rested on my back then told Geoff to get the hell out of the way in case it fell.  Down the steps we went, one step at a time,  thump, step, thump, step, until we reached the landing.  Geoff was ready with a blanket, and we slid the armoire to the next set of steps.  Again, I leaned it against my back and down we went.  We dragged it to the truck still on the blanket, and hoisted it in on its back.  We braced it against the inside of the truck and lifted it upright.  This whole operation took an hour and a half.  We high-fived and began bringing the rest of our lives down the stairs.  I was exhausted. 

About 4 o’clock we took a break, drove over to Nana’s and loaded all of her belongings, then came back and emptied the rest of our house.  By midnight, we were finished.  By the way, there was no room to spare.

6:00 AM found me trying to attach my car to the back of this truck with a tow bar.  I didn’t know how, and the truck rental personnel couldn't give me a hint since it was “Against Regulations.”  I struggled with it until my neighbor took pity on me and came to help.  He didn’t know how to attach it either, but two heads and all that.  We got it attached, sort of, and the safety chain hooked to the frame of my Pacer.  (Yes, a Pacer.)  We, (Nana, Geoff, our dog Cleo, our cats, Sepia, Mischief and Oscar,  and me) were finally ready to start our moving adventure.  It was noon.  Yay, us!

* * * * * * * * *

The car fell off the first time in Alexandria, Virginia.

I pulled off the road, called AAA and got us a room at a Ramada Inn for the night.  I dragged the car by the safety chain, driving slowly so as not to sway into any parked cars, and decided to worry about hooking the car back up in the morning.  This Ramada was the only motel in the area that would accept pets.  We had been driving for six hours, but it seemed like several days. 

Dressed comfortably for the trip we looked like Woodstock leftovers.  This would not have been a problem, but for the fact that there was a fancy convention going on with a black-tie event in the penthouse.  We rode the elevator to the 23rd floor with tuxes and evening gowns. Nana was in a house dress that looked like her nightshirt, Geoff was in shorts and shirt but barefoot since he couldn’t find his shoes. Cleo was on a leash, the three cats were in two carriers and I was in cut-offs and a halter.  The Beverly Hillbillies suddenly came to mind. Cleo was half Doberman/half Collie and loved men but hated women.  She tried to make friends with one particular tux, but when his partner bent to pet her, she snarled and showed her pearly white teeth.  It was a tense few moments.  I heard a collective sigh as we exited at our floor.

The next morning I called AAA again and they sent a service man to attach my car properly.  He didn’t know how this particular tow bar worked either.  Really?  He had never seen one quite like it, but he did his best, and the car looked secure.  We were on our way after breakfast!  Our next stop would be Florence, South Carolina.  We arrived without incident about 3 PM and Geoff was anxious to take a swim in the pool that looked so inviting.  The desk clerk told me to take the road at the edge of the parking lot and it would take me around to the door of our room.  She lied. 

The road she indicated ended in a cul-de-sac of sugar sand which was too narrow to turn a 24’ truck around.  When you’re towing a vehicle behind a huge truck, you cannot back up.  I unhooked my car, turned it around out of the way, then turned the truck around and tried to hook the car up again.  I had Nana and Geoff at the hitch while I attempted to drive close enough to hook it over the hitch.  It didn’t work the first several times.  My Pacer was a shift stick, and no sooner would I get right up to the hitch, I would let off the brake and it would roll back an inch or more.  It was 95 degrees in the shade, and there was no shade.  We were tired, out of sorts and out of patience.  We finally got it hooked up without killing each other. 

I was on my back under the car, being eaten alive by sand fleas, trying to re-attach the safety chain when a HUGE wolf came sliding under the car to join me.  I jumped and hit my head on the muffler.  I couldn’t escape since he laid down with one foot on my hair and the other on my throat.  Upon closer inspection, (no choice there,) he was a Husky puppy who decided I was his long-lost friend and proceeded to lick my face - repeatedly.  There wasn't a lot of room under the car and my space and patience were shrinking with each wet kiss.  All the while, Cleo is barking her brains out, unable to protect me.  We had her chained to the door of the truck, in its shadow. 

Geoff was astute for his age and he quickly realized the pup would live longer if he intervened.  He encouraged the pup to jump on him instead. I hooked the chain, we shooed Gigantor puppy away and got going.  We took the correct road and finally got to our room at 6 PM.  After we blow-dried Oscar (Geoff dumped a cooler full of ice water on him as we were getting out of the truck,) we went to dinner.  It was still about 80 degrees after dinner, so Geoff finally took his swim.  Gigantor puppy showed up and went for a swim too.  The manager told us to get our dog out of the pool.  We explained he was not our dog in spite of the fact that he greeted us like old friends.  I brought Cleo out to show him.  She saw the puppy, started barking hysterically and the pup took off, as did the manager. 

Five o’clock the next morning we were ready to hit the road again. I gave Geoff the truck keys to unlock the door so we could load up, and he promptly dropped them in the bushes outside our room.  Our flashlight was locked in the truck, our room light was too dim, and I was on my knees in the dirt feeling around for the keys.  Nana used her lighter so I might see and set fire to an azalea.  We killed the bush stomping out the fire, but I did manage to find the keys in the firelight.  After leaving our room key and money to pay for the bush in the drop box, we were on our way.

We made it all the way to Macon, Georgia, before misfortune caught up with us again.

My car had a flat tire.  To my dismay the spare was also flat.  I pause here to mention that I am a responsible traveler.  I had my mechanic go over my car, to make sure that all was well.  I paid him handsomely for this service.  I assumed he would have checked the spare tire, knowing as he did that I was about to embark upon a lengthy road trip.  Never assume... I drove slowly, with flashers flashing, to the Macon exit, about a mile. 

We pulled into a gas station and a man walked up to the truck and said,

“Mumble jumble blah, blah, blah, blah?” 

“Excuse me?”

“Mumble jumble blah, blah, blah, blah?”

I looked at Nana and said, “I don’t know what he’s saying.” 

She said, “He wants to know if he can help you.” 

“Oh. Yes please.  We have a flat.”  Obviously...

He said, “Mumble jumble blah, blah, blah?” 

I looked at Nana inquiringly and she said, “He wants to know if you want him to fix it.” 

“Well, yes.”  I was looking quite bewildered.

He said, “Mumble jumble blah, blah, blah, blurb?” 

Nana didn’t wait for me to look at her, she said, “He wants to know if you can pull up over there.”  She pointed to an out of the way spot.

I said, “I didn’t know you understood Maconese.” 

Geoff was rolling around between the seats, laughing. 

I pulled up “over there.”  He removed the old tire, and said, through my interpreter, that I would have to buy a new tire, since the old one seemed to be missing all of its rubber.  However, since he didn’t have my size on hand, he would have to go get one, and it would take about an hour.  We  wandered around looking at the flora and fauna growing in a 3’ x 3’ patch of dead grass nearby.  We counted ants but had to keep starting over since they move so quickly. Three hours and a lighter wallet later we were back on the road, with a brand new tire, the spare full of air and the car attached firmly to the truck via the tow bar.  I didn't ask how they did it. Never look a gift horse etc.  Life was good.  We were on our way -  again. 

By now it was late on our third day.  I am night blind, and wanting my family to live, I made the decision to stop for the night.  We found a very nice motel in Jacksonville.  In the morning after breakfast, I pulled into a gas station to fill up and hit a pothole the size of Manhattan.  My car fell off the tow bar once again.  We almost hit a gas pump since it was swerving all over the place, and the station owner came running out, understandably concerned.  He offered to re-attach my car, and I gratefully accepted.  He said he had never seen a tow bar like this before, (No kidding?)  and he was sure the only way to attach it securely was to jack up my car and drop it onto the hitch.  It worked and we finally did reach Naples in one piece, as it were.

When I returned the truck to Ryder, I asked the attendant for a refund on the tow bar since it didn’t work - I kept losing my car. 

“Did you tighten the screws?” 

“What screws?” 

“The two screws on top.  All you had to do was tighten them and it would have held through anything.” 

Ah, but think of all we would have missed!