It does my heart good to know the newspaper industry will survive tough times as long as people keep having moving days.
You might not read this column, but some day my head shot will be protecting your wine glasses. I’m just happy to be making a difference.
- PHOTOS: Filipino devotees nailed to crosses to re-enact crucifixion4 Pictures
- PHOTOS: Memorial spotlights the man behind Nipsey Hussle rap persona14 Pictures
This is moving season, of course. Yesterday was the most popular moving day of the year, according to the article wrapped around my dinner plates. And I took part.
Moving is an event that teaches you important things.
Lesson No. 1
One moral I take away when I change addresses is that — write this down — I’m a filthy liar. I always tell people that I own next to nothing and I have even come to believe it.
Yet, when I pack I find myself standing next to a stack of boxes that brings to mind the final shot of Raiders Of The Lost Ark. Like most North Americans, I have become so adept at accumulating crap that I don’t even notice.
I get confused because I use so little of it. For instance, my kitchen is filled with at least a dozen mysterious cooking utensils. They might also be sex toys or CIA weapons of death. I have no idea what they do, so I can’t be sure.
Lesson No. 2
Getting friends to help you move is harder than convincing people to go on suicide missions. I should get anybody who agrees to record a chilling on-camera message.
“I commit to this glorious move in the name of the Heineken I have been promised, blessings be upon it.”
And because it’s so hard to convince people to help, I always respond with a disproportionate amount of gratefulness, as if they had offered me a kidney.
Lesson No. 3
Being a bachelor has its advantages. I know people who pack everything carefully, categorize the contents, and mark where the box is to be placed, down to the Google Maps co-ordinates. Adding eight hours to the packing process makes it “easier.”
I just put everything into boxes as quickly as possible. No point writing, “Kitchen, southwest corner” when the box contains a tupperware bowl, a plug that belongs to something, three golf balls and a bag of microwave popcorn.
I was careful, however, to pack with as much newspaper as possible. I believe in the future of this business.