This is for Benji, even though he probably won't see it. Tonight at church, he looked at me and said, "Hey, HEY, hey!" Then he asked me if I knew what show that came from. Duh.
When we were kids in the '80's, What's Happening was a hugely popular sitcom. It's similar to The Jeffersons or Good Times, or The Cosby Show, for the younger ones. The phrase was made famous by the character "Rerun," and yes, that's his name. So I asked Benji if I could do the Rerun dance which drew an emphatic, "NO!" from him. So here it is. Wait for it. It's around 1:17 in the clip above. It was hilarious then and still is, but maybe just because it reminds me of a time when humor was more innocent and laughs came a little easier. Enjoy.
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As the title proclaims, this will be my last post from Dreager Road (feel a little tear coming on, wait, no, my bad). Friday is moving day. And after all the stress and frustration, I am amazingly calm and peaceful about it. But, as always with my overly analytical mind, I have pondered the possibilities and determined the reasons for my quiescent state.
The bulk of my stress, I thought, was because of the enormous amount of physical labor involved in sorting, packing and rearranging my crap. But then I made a to-do list of all the phone calls I had to make to transfer or connect the utilities. The list scared me. The companies I had to call are some of the worst for long and un-productive wait times. AT&T, KUB, Comcast, KCUD, DirecTV, my stomach is churning again just mentioning them. After several failed attempts, I took my lunch hour today to try and tidy up this mess.
Smooth sailing. Not kidding. Every call went like clockwork, until I got to the water department.
"We need a lease agreement from the property owner, Mr. Carver."
"Can I fax it to you?"
"No. You have to come in and sign. And there will be a $110 connection fee."
(cough, cough, hack, blech) "A WHAT?!?!? FOR TURNING A SPIGOT IN THE FRONT YARD?!?!? (count to ten, breathe deep)
"Okay. Will that get my water on tomorrow?"
"We require 24 hours notice, Mr. Carver. If you come in tomorrow, it will be turned on Monday due to the holiday."
"24 hours notice to turn a water faucet in the yard, no indoor access is needed?"
"That's correct, Mr. Carver"
"HA, HA, HOOHAH. That's hilarious. Can I send someone over there today to do it for me?"
"No sir, Mr. Carver. It has to be the tenant."
"AARRRGGGHHH!!!" I hang up the phone, fighting off the tsunami of obscenities rolling through my brain.
So I start scheming. 1) need letter or lease agreement. 2) need to get there by 4:30. 3) should either one of these not happen, I have no water until Monday.
Light bulb in my head and "Alleluia Chorus" ringing in my ears.
I call Juli. She willingly agrees to type up a letter of authorization, which the property owner ok'd, and I can swing by Dr. Rick's office and pick it up right after work and proceed to KCUD. All of this goes off without a hitch and I will have water tomorrow.
So the point is: I am calm and peaceful now because the worst part of my move is done. And it is because of Juli, who saved my rear-end today and helped pack and brought me supper when I was too busy to eat. Ryan, who not only sold the house, but won an FHA dispute insuring that I sell for the original price and built a porch railing and a deck, helped move in a refrigerator, and kept assuring me that everything is going good and the deal will happen. V-baby, who dedicated an evening to come over and help pack up my hundred-thousand strong CD collection, even the uncomfortable ones, and Sarah, who took on the impossible task of the junk room, confronted my dark and sordid past, and overlooked the awkwardness of picking up certain things that I have kept. I am sure that before the weekend is over, many more thank you's will be required.
So I'll wrap up this last post with a heart-felt thank you and I love you to my friends, church family and blog followers. It has taken thirty something years for me to find people who care enough to lend a hand simply because they want to. I have moved five times in the last thirteen years. This is the first time I haven't had to do it alone.
On a funny note, I just removed another splinter from my chest. I keep finding the little suckers.
