Since I have no interent connection, I can't tell the last time I blogged... had the Pod already been dropped off? Or was the last entry about how Jason helped me take apart the entertainment center (and finally the California Closet stuff)? Or was it all the way back to Monday, scurrying like made to dismantle and pack? Let's start with Monday.
Monday, I dismantled the bed in master bedroom, as Lisa wanted to get used to the space. That went simply enough. More packing.
Tuesday, (and as I type this, I realize this is where I left off... with Kyle's broken foot) it was more packing and waiting for Kyle's return from Junior Lifeguard to dismantle his bed (and clean out the entertainment center) While Kyle was getting x-rays, I empted the entertainment center of CD's and stuff... suddenly we have something to take the local record store (do they even call it that anymore?) to see if I can offload some content (then donate what's left). After dinner that night, Jason and I dismantle the boys bunk beds and take it over to the condo. It goes down without incident, save for the fact that it is humid and hot and dark in there... we're going to need a fan and more lights. Instead of packing, we finish the evening with drinks and tv with the Coreys.
Wednesday is the Fourth, and we spend the holiday dismantling and packing. Luckily, Jason is there to help me with the entertainment center. When that's over, I'm ready to relax... I know the California Closet guys will be here Friday to take apart the kitchen pantry and the master bedroom closet. (it'll be a close call as to whether they'll be done in time for the help Fred is sending to actually help load *that* stuff in the pod, but we'll have enough to worry about on Friday -- seems SO long ago know as I type this. Jason looks at the bedroom closet and asks how much I'm going to have to pay to have CC dismantle this. $340. Man, he says, we can knock this out in a couple of hours. I weigh the idea of relaxing now vs. saving $340 to dismantle and another $340 to re-construct. The savings... wins out... and I'll buy Jason a year's supply of our favorite rum: Gosling's Black Seal (over rocks, squeeze and sliver of lime, with a splash of simple syrup... ahhhh, yes, smiling here on Saturday, just thinking about it... but back to the story). So we dismantle the bedroom with no problem. We have lunch and Jason takes Kyle next door to play PS3 (the kid's bored to death, traversing the house with all the boxes lying around is like making your way through a minefield, and everyone's grumpy that he isn't working); Jason gets a little sidetracked, and Dad (who has come by early... like three hours early) begins to help me with the kitchen pantry.
We bought this almost four years ago... last year we needed to have them come back to make repairs because some of the shelves were sagging. The made the repairs... but instead of making it work as new, they simply made sure it worked... so taking it apart owas horrible. Of the two side-by-side units--one with doors and drawers; the other with shelves and doors--we were only able to save the former; the latter had to be trashed. Bummer. But at least it was now time for the neighborhood block party. I make a quick batch of my nearly infamous "Oso Azul" (blue bear margaritas: 2 cups high-end taquila, 1/2 cup of lime juice, Grand Marnier, and Triple Sec each, a spash of blue curacao and symple syrup, blended with 3 cups of ice, then served over ice... very nice), and take it across the street. I then hop in the shower, the back to bartending and the bbq.
All goes well... until sundown. We watching the fireworks in the sky (what we can, we can barely see the show at the harbor, but folks in the neighborhood are firing off some, too, even in this extreme drought), when something happens. A car is going north on Gill and a van south. They collide, the drivers exit and tussle a little then both attempt to drive off; the van is successful but the car is not. Someone heard a shot fired (I didn't... I thought it was either a firework or the collision of the vehicles); someone heard someone say, "Don't shoot me!" (I didn't hear that either). Everybody at the party, tended to the kids and got them indoors. Jason began to walk to his house, his being closer to the incident. I followed, then the thought of vs god knows how many jerks in the car gave me pause. I walked into the garage, looking for a bat (but as it turned out, the Corey's now have all the kids' sporting equipment), so I picked up my three-foot metal level. I caught up with him, he was making his 911 call, describing the incident and the car. I kept yelling to him, "Do you have the number?" mean the license plate... he either ignored me or blew me off (as it turned out, he's more mechanical that I, and had noticed both front wheels pinning in... that car was going nowhere). Two guys--by appearance hispanic gangbangers--emerged from the car. The driver used the front of his shirt to wipe the exterior door handle (trying to wipe prints?). Before they began to walk off south down Gill, the driver gestured to me as if I was supposed to back down. I yelled something in return (something in range of "You want some, I'm not walking away... you are." Except I'm pretty sure it was more profane. Why am I sure? Because when we began to follow them down the street (as the police had not yet arrived, and we wanted to track them as far as we could so thelp the cops), and the punk broke into a run, I yelled, "Keep running, you motherless fuck... keep running, you can't come into this neighborhood doing that shit and expect to fucking get away."
Yeah, not the brightest move... Anyway, continued to follow him on foot, running now (Jason trailing), then he took a quick right and jumped the fence into a backyard. That yard's neighbor came out and we went into his backyard, looking to see where he went. No luck. When I back on the street, Jason and caught up and we headed back home. When we got just about to Maxine, we found the car from the incident turned around, and two guys trying to get it going. We were amazed that they were able to move it, but it wasn't easy. They got out of the car. The passenger, bald with a white tee, looked a little like the guy we chased (could he have hopped the fence and circled back around? the adrenalin and rum might have played with my senses -- both sight and mental), and the driver was a Pendleton-wearing old school cholo with a soul-patch and weak mustache (side note: did you know Pendletons are made in Portland... another useless piece of trivia from last weekend).
He asked if we wanted to help him move his car.
"This is YOUR car?" I asked.
"Uh, yeah."
"We'll pass. We'll let the Police help you. They're on their way... anyway, I thought this car was stolen... last guy I saw get out of it tried to wipe his prints off. You sure this is yours?"
"Uh. Yeah. You want to make something of it?"
"We just don't need to see this kinda shit in our neighborhood. Freaks out the kids, man."
I guess he noticed the level in my hand. "You threatening me?" White Tee had circled around the back of the car, about ten feet further off from his partner, not quite having his back.
"I'm not threatening you. But if you start something, I'll fuckin' finish it."
"Fuck you." And he began to back away toward White Tee. And they started to walk away.
"Hey, you forgot your car!" The firetruck with lights flashing turned onto Gill. The assholes turned onto Maxine; I followed. Their pace quicked, so did mine, and I looked back to see the first cop car turn on to Gill, then pull on to Maxine. The assholes took off, Jason told the cops about Pendleton and White Tee. They took off.
The next 30 minutes was rehashing the evening and calming kids down (Jack was especially upset).
The next morning, Jack wanted to know if it was all a dream. Yeah, and now life comes crashing down.
In the late morning, the Pod arrived. VERY cool. A semi, with the white storage Pod... but with a weird contraption all around it, arrived. It parked, and the driver came out with the wilded radio controller I've ever seen. He fiddled and the contraption around the pod seemed to sprout legs with wheels (I'm sure the wheels were there before, this isn't "Transformers"). At a certain height he attached hooks from teh contraption to the pod; then more controls and the pod lifed from the bed of the truck. More controls and the contraption moved away from the truck bed with the pod suspended in air. More controls and he maneuvers the contraption in a turn and up the driveway. More controls and he lowers the pod into place... and out and back onto the truck. The driver gives me some instructions (try to keep the load balanced from to back; make sure it's locked properly... see you on Saturday), and he's off. It was pretty cool.
I started to break down the office (moving computers around, so that I can reformat them for the boys' rooms), but when I disconnect the KVM switch (keyboard, video, mouse... so I can use one set for multiple computers), I realize I con't have the right keyboard for my relatively new computer (last summer). So off to Frye's I go... I also need to pick up a cable to connect Lisa's MacBook to a video projector for a presentation she's giving next week in San Francisco (with all the craziness of the week, she's been pretty calm about all this... shock and awe). When I get there, they don't have the cable: "Try the Apple store in Thousand Oaks." Great. I'll send my dad on that errand. Later, I take Kyle to water polo practice (to immense razzing), drop off the computers at Dad's (my reformatting staging area), and ask him to run out to T.O. tomorrow to get that cable (I simply don't think we'll have the time). He agrees, and I pick up Kyle and we head back home. Lisa and I pack and dismantle and pack (we now have a whole new donation pile) until nearly 1 in the morning. But I feel good; I think we have our shit together for the two guys from Coastline to "pamper us" (as Fred put it). The plan is pretty simple: load the pod (at least partially), load the truck and move it to the condo, swing by dad's to pick up his sofa and recliner, drop that by the condo, then come back to the house to finish loading. Hopefully the first three steps will be done by 1, so I can hang at the condo for the cable guys to install the TV and cable modem.
Get up early on Friday, shower, and get ready. The truck from Coastline arrives with Shy (sp?), the guy in supposed charge, and Victor (by all appearances a day-laborer). They sit in the truck cab until 8:30... I'm guessing the City ordinance says contractor labor cannot begin until that time. Shy comes out and asks what we want to do. I lay out the plan; he balks (first at the prospect of Ventura, second at the pod (saying all our stuff won't fit). Whatever, I get him started on moving the big items into the truck for the move to the condo. These guys may have muscle but they don't seem to have any expertise (certainly no advice) on how to pack, load or move. But Shy IS spending at least as much time on the cell as he is actually lifting. Meanwhile, I begin to move some stuff into the pod (doing exactly what Fred said we were trying to avoid by sending guys to do the labor). We pack up the washer, dryer, refrigerator (which somehow has started to leak), dining room table and four chairs (not the two armed ones), two patio chairs with cushions, and our beds. Meanwhile, I get water bottles for both guys. And we make the move, with Lisa and me in a fully loaded Pilot (with little stuff to take over), and Shy and Victor following.
We move the stuff into the condo, and there's already a scratch on the wall. Damn... need that $1400 security deposit. They put in the washer... it works. Dryer... gas seems to be leaking, plus we need a lint tube to connect the dryer to the vent. The refrigerator seems to be ok, though it's leaking water and Shy says that after moving it, we shouldn't turn it on for at least forty minutes. As we're leaving, Shy asks if they're done. WTF? No, we have another load to come her (with a side trip to Ventura to pick up the couch and recliner), to which he balks... plus we have the pod to fill. Lisa's comment to me back in the Pilot is that Shy is a sulky little boy... and she doesn't like sulking boys. We head back home, and I give up the idea of making a trip out to Dad's... looks like I'm going to need to get a truck and head out there with someone anyway... It's just after ten... we have three hours to get back to the condo for cable.
At home, I show Victor the stuff that needs to be moved into the pod, and show Shy the couches that need to have their legs removed so they'll fit to the door. I leave him with my drill/screwdriver and the couches. Victor and I begin to load the pod and we're making slow progress... I'm trying to keep in mind the whole front-back balance thing... but I'm not sure how much is going to fit... it does seem like a lot. Occasionally I hear the drill going. After a while, he comes out and gets Victor and they bring out the loveseat, sans legs. Excellent. At about this point, Joni calls and asks if we want lunch. We ask Shy, who declines, and Victor, who smiles and says yes, please. We continue to work, Victor and I on loading the pod; he's now bringing shelving back from the back bedrooms. Only occasionally, now am I hearing the drill. Then Shy comes out with the news. The screws are stripped... he cannot remove the legs.
FUCK. This is fucked. We are now without a couch. I make an attempt, but it's no use. In my mind, I'm getting pretty angry at this. If this is Fred's idea of "pampering"... I fear for the future. I am no resigned to writing off the couch, as I don't have time to saw off the legs then try to remove the screws, AND get it loaded in the pod before the pop people come tomorrow. I set Shy onto helping Victor bring shelving. They pile it in the pod, leaving me less and less room to organize. I end up taking they stuff they brought out just to reposition. Occasionally, Shy disappears and I hear him talking on his cell.
Lunch arrives thanks to Joni. Shy refuses and goes to another room, for what I think must be the twentieth call of the morning. Victor eats and drinks. I had planned to tip each guy $50 for a full-days effort. I've already decided not to tip Shy shit... only Victor will get a tip... how much will depend on how long they stay. At the end of lunch, Joni announces it's 12:30. Shit... only thirty more minutes before we have to be at the condo for cable. Shy wants to know if they are done. Lisa and I are really "done." Lisa suggests we move the rest of the condo stuff into the truck and make one last trip of the day.
And that we do. At the end of the off-load, Shy asks if they are done. I say yes. He pauses as if I'm going to pay him. I stare him straight in the eye, and say, "Thanks for your help. Good bye." They begin to walk out of the condo. As Victor walks past, I tap him on the shoulder, as he turns, I slide $30 into his hand, and whisper, "Thank you." He smiles and nods. I'm pretty sure Shy saw the transaction. Good.
So now we work on the condo in waiting for the cable guy, knowing that every minute we wait is a minute less that I have to pack the pod. I set about to set up the DVD, PS2 and cable box we've brought from the house. No signal, but the other components work. Now it's nearing three...at about half-past, Lisa gets a call on the new line. It's Jeremy from cable... their running a little late; he'll call back later when he's done with the job, then it'll be about 30 mintues before he'll be here. OK, I take the opportunity to head back to the house to pack the pod.
Jason is home sick, so I'm solo for the moment, which is actually a good thing, as my thinking out the problem would only frustrate anyone trying to help. I make some good progress, but I get a call on the old house line from Jeremy at 4:20. He's done. I ask him when he'll be at the condo. He said within 10 minutes. I drop what I'm doing and go.
When I get there, a cable truck is circling parking lot. I wave him down. Is he Jeremy? No, but he's his friend. OK. I head into the condo, poking my head out every now and then. I see Jeremy arrive. I see Jeremy begin to talk to his friend. I see the two of the have a smoke. Jeremy finally comes in at quarter to five. They set up a new cable box: "The old one won't work here." He can't set up the cable because all of his modems don't handle static IP addresses (needed for my work). When I say I still have my old one, he says he'll have me set up within minutes. Great. But the cable box isn't booting up right. They swap it out, they try something new with the cable itself. Nothing. Meanwhile, we try to set up take out Thai with the Coreys... they phone it in and we'll pick it up on the way to the house to pack the pod. Lisa leaves to deliver food.
Then Jeremy comes in. Bad news: the cable in this unit is shot: it was never upgraded for service (probably didn't help that the previous tenent was there for 10 years). We need to call the supervisor and set up an inspection, then get an OK from the homeowner association for permission for alterations. I say that this is hurting my ability to make a living. He says that his supervisor should have some pull. Meantime, his supervisor call the old house line and leaves his number. Lisa picks me up and we head over to the old house, where I crankily yell at my kids. I call my dad for another favor: can the boys spend the night with you since this will be a late night.
I throw Thai down my throat and begin on the pod... it is now 7:30. Lisa makes contact with the cable supervisor, he'll come over tomorrow morning to inspect the place. Joni helps Lisa in the office, while I pack. Thankfully, there's no couch to pack. The patio table and four remaining chairs don't fit, either. The Coreys will take care of the table and chairs. We'll get the couch out of the house after they demolish a door... maybe we can sell it. The rest of our stuff fits just barely.
We are done by 11pm.
We hug Joni good night, and head back to the condo...we unload some (there's still more to bring over). My back is killing me. We are both exhausted.
We sleep until the alarm. I head back to the house to break down the computer system and wait for the pod to be picked up. They came at 10:30...
The truck arrives, just a shell.
And goes through the process of picking up the pod: lowers its moveable cage so that it's free-standing...
Backing the cage over the pod via remote control...
Lifing the pod up with changes attached to the cage...
Backing the truck up under the now raised pod...
Lowering the pod onto the bed of the truck...
Raising the cage so that it no longer standing on its own, but is held by the truck...
And off it goes, to store our stuff in Ventura, until (hopefully) December...
...now I rush to finish this because Lisa just called. The cable guy was there... he told her what needed to be done, and once we have a signed waiver to do so by the homeowner association, they can have us fixed up within two hours. Dad has taken Kyle to his water polo game: halftime and they're ahead even without Kyle 7-5. I'm about to shut down the computer.
But here's what still needs to be done:
- finish off the small stuff at the old house
- get cable/modem
- get a SMALL computer desk for the condo
- do a walk-through with the Coreys to see what fixtures they'd like
- get a truck and move Dad's couch and recliner to the condo
and Lisa leaves on Tuesday for her conference....
And all I want to do is sleep...
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UPDATE: it's a quarter to seven... I've found an unsecured network at the condo complex... I can check email and upload this blog... but it's not strong enough to work...
Tomorrow, we'll pick up the couch and the chair (after taking Dad and the Coreys to breakfast), then I'll take the kids to a movie... but for now it's Wendy's take out (and lots of take out until gas is connected Wednesday)... and PS with the boys... and sleep...
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