The Move

Based on a true story.

The Move 

 

 

Spring. It was spring. 2007. No wait, it was 2008. Spring 2008. I was booking gigs. My job. I draw great big faces at parties and events. When I book gigs I get asked by a school, or library, or fair to draw for an event. But that’s not important. My phone ringed. It was my wife. Amy. I heard this

 

“HoneyIjustgotascholarshiptoharvarduniversitywooohooo!!!!”

 

My wife just got a scholarship to Harvard. But that’s not important either. What was important was how we, my family of son, daughter, wife, dog and me, were going to get from here Milwaukee, Wisconsin to there Boston, Massachusetts. This story you are reading is about the move.

            We were moving. We were leaving our house. In our house we owned lots of stuff. Books, toys, stuffed animals, DVDs, couches, sofas, chairs, clothing, beds, food, CDs, a bunny, rugs, dishes, silverware, tables, chairs, shoes, blankets, paintings, pictures and more and more and more, stuff and stuff and stuff stuff stuff. Lots of stuff. And we were moving. And we had to get rid of a lot of stuff. But all that stuff is just listed 23 words ago didn’t amount to how big some of other stuff we had was. We had two cars, a garage, and a house. We were leaving our house full of stuff. And when you leave a house you own filled with stuff you own you know what you do. You sell your house and a whole lot of stuff. That’s a lot of stuff to sell. Not just a lot of stuff, but a lot of stuff.

 

 

            We got had to get some help. We hired a real-estate agent to help sell the house. Her name was Rita. She gave us advice. Me and my wife had talks with her about what and what not to do when selling a house. The talks went a little like this. Probably.

 

“Hello, welcome, I’m so glad you can help us” Amy (my wife) said

 

“Hello, hmm big house, yes very big house not the best, lots of stuff I see, well we will have to change few things here.” Rita said a she walked through the door.”

 

“Can you give us advice on how we should sell the house.” I asked.

 

“Don’t ever show your face to the buyers. The buyers can say no to a house for craziest reasons. Why I once had a buyer who said no to a perfectly good house simply because the previous owners were republican. The last thing you want is a buyer offering 3 billion for your house to say no simply cause he thinks you’re ugly.” Rita replied.

 

 

“Is there anything about the house you believe should be changed to make it preferable.” My wife asked.

 

 

“Yes of course there is, there always is, you should repaint everything, vacuum everything. Oh! This is a must do. This kitchen, with its light blue walls, won’t do. You must repaint the entire room yellow” Rita said

 

 

“Yellow?” I said

 

 

“Yes, yellow” Rita said

 

“Yellow?” my wife said

 

“It must be yellow” Rita said

 

“Really yellow” my wife and I said

 

“Really yellow” Rita said

 

 

We painted the entire kitchen yellow. A year later the house went back on market. Turns out the new owner’s painted every room a dark brown. Turns out we really didn’t need any yellow at all.

 

 

            We went through a lot of work getting the house in shape. With the repainting, the packing, and the-getting-rid-of-ing. We had a little help. My wife’s brother Rustin came over to repaint the bathroom. Paint is really smelly. Rustin would paint that bathroom perfectly fine. Like nothing smelled funky at all. Meanwhile a fly buzzing around him dies of suffocation. He wasn’t the only one who helped paint. Our cleaning lady Cindy helped paint. Our friend John Cobb helped. And we hired a painter named Jon to help paint as well. A majority of the house had some sort of makeover. The upstairs had to be repainted and when that commenced my son and daughter (whose room was upstairs) had to sleep down stairs on an inflatable mattress. I had to drive a lot of things over to the goodwill. Spent about 150 miles of gas driving back forth between the house and the goodwill. Not all was given to the goodwill. I put an old TV on the curb. Put a sign on it. Said “yes it works” went inside sat down on our-soon-to-be-given-away-couch. Looked outside. TV was gone. Not much was really missed. Except one thing. My dog. Eliza. My family was moving into an apartment complex. And no pets allowed. We gave our beloved pet to a lady out on a farm. We got her back a year and a half later but she was still hard to let go.

        The house was repainted, the things we needed were packed, and the stuff we didn’t need was given away. We took a long drive to Massachusetts. Two days I believe it took. Maybe three. First thing we noticed. No toilet paper. We got a handful of groceries. The funny thing is, is even without our stuff. Even without our Books, toys, stuffed animals, DVDs, coaches, sofas, chairs, clothing, beds, food, CDs, rugs, dishes, silverware, tables, chairs, shoes, blankets, paintings, and pictures. Even without that stuff. We were happy. You don’t need stuff to be happy. You just need what you need. Sure, we got new stuff in Massachusetts. But we didn’t need it at all. And most was given away when we moved to Maryland. The move was little scary. Not silence of the lambs scary. More like that scary you get when you need a detention slip signed by your parents. We had no idea what lied ahead. But I’m happy with what happened. No regrets. No regrets at all and a whole lot less stuff.