Oklahoma. While the driver naps I get a look see, and today’s results.

Zia Jian ya’ll

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While on the East Coast we hire helpers who hop in the truck and travel with Us. One guy is my favorite he is a sharp and funny kinda fellow. “My dad has 17 kids…we ain’t got no Tv growing up”. His says the running water meant you ran to the well to fetch water and there was no such thing as “Walmart.  He has been able to provide for  his family and himself by working hard. I ask him “is moonshine and hooch the same thing?” Yes. He says the way they tell the alcohol content  is by the pour and a blue flame. If the flame stays lit 4ft feet off the ground it’s 80 proof, 3 feet means it’s 60. If the liquid on the ground continue to emit the flame it’s the good stuff ,way up there 110 proof. $ 25 for a fifth. “Gee that’s kind of pricey” “hey no worries that bottle will last you a whole summer, two sips is all you need”.  In the past I’ve had Armenian  hooch and once you’ve drank it you never forget it. Like they say “lighting in a bottle.”

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Recent cross country moves sometimes lead us movers to place  items in storage at the direction of the shipper. Being that said I’m in the wrong business. These labyrinth  type places are so popular. And  100 bucks a pop per month times a gazillion. Lights on timers. Low overhead and if shipper falls behind on few payments “the stuff”  gets auction  off.   This  job has taught  me that people are attached to their stuff. We move debris, boxes never opened, cracked plastic. Broken items and towel racks ( exercise equipment.). Dented trash cans & pantyhose  with runs in them. And everything in the box is heavy. The PBO’S which stands for place by owner, is usually  in most dilapidated box ever created, held together by some sorry ass tape. Then I have to listen to the driver say “hey watch it the box has stuff  coming out the bottom” Duh!. Inevitably  some schmuck  will ask “what’s the heaviest thing you ever picked up” I was tired sweaty and thirsty when he asked. I said   “pictures of a fat girl in a box”. Paper is so heavy. Imagine picking up reams of it all day long. Okay I feel better. Ziajian

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    Packing and loading at a shipper’s house I notice these. I said to myself “Self… pirates live here and how would you like to be wearing a skirt and step on this” .  

The driver and I know a helper who tells us ‘I got a friend who lives in the woods”  “He’s got a wood burning stove and some solar panels ain’t nobody gonna bother him out there”. I’m intrigued I’m thinking “shit I live in truck and I wanna compare. So I  continue with the questions “What about his mail?” Correspondence is sent to his brother’s.  In the morning he goes to McDonald’s eats  breakfast and reads the paper and he showers  at work.  His alarm system is 8ft  string  around perimeter of his place with a jar of nails sitting on a post.  He sees wild turkeys, foxes and of course deer.  I see a few jive turkeys giving me the eye and I wish I’d see some foxes (1970’s term for hot guys lol)which would cause me to say Oh dear.  Our friend says he takes him to the laundromat and the store then drops him off on the side of the road.  “It’s a crooked path he knows his way…Drinks his beer and no one bothers him.” “He ain’t got no lady so he got no trouble”. Railroad ties elevate his floor and lawn chair to relax in. I’m listening to him describe a way of life that makes me feel like a little kid listening to some crazy tale that’s true.  My hat’s off to Winchell.  And to the helper who shared this with us.

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Today was delivery day for a shipper who moved to one of my most favorite cities in the US.  Originally,  one of the 13 colonies. New York where at anytime you can yell scream and honk and no one really cares. Ticket tape parades and $15.00 for a pack of smokes. Sabrett hot dogs on just about every corner.  $3500 for a tiny 1 bedroom  flat with uneven sloping floors. You can easily tell who lives on the 22 square mile island (black clothes no smile good hair) and who doesn’t (everyone else)  I hear this place is becoming so pricy even the lower east side has got scruples. I loved New York for all the movies ever filmed here.  Grand Central Station pre Giuliani. I wanna be co-op girl and take the BQE to visit the Heights.  Russian Tea Room and Tavern on the Green are still my 2 favorite places , one tacky one classy. Neck strain and real good genuine fakes at canal.  ABCarpet and City Bakery were 2 places my sister turned me onto when she lived in Hells Kitchen. But my best memory was a head nod to Iggy Pop (walking on Madison Ave with hot Asian chick) and then later that night eating at Nobu’s in booth next to Mr. DeNiro. Because of him I now order “extra dirty Ketel Martini with a sheet of ice”

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Oh my goodness,  get ready to rumble if you pull into a truck stop later than usual leads to the following.  Jockeying for a space has led the driver to get out his  truck and go over to another driver who is  reluctant to see that one must have a little wiggle room to park 76 foot plus truck. He choose some   kind words for the parking lot (flat bed truck). I choose to stay inside the cab. I asked ” What happens if he comes over here?” Driver replied “Hit him with something” I was hoping more along the lines of ” don’t worry you’ll be fine”. I’m regulated to watch the show.  Driver hops back in and says “Tonight we are the Show” The CB chatter concurs. 

Ps. That driver was a weenie.

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More than one Elvis. Another glorious truck stop but alas this one had pizzazz.  Colorful blankets, the ones you see for sale off the freeway or on your Latina girlfriend’s bed. I turned the corner and saw the King.  I was very young when my  father worked in Las Vegas. And for a time, my mom  with kids in tow, would  make the trip to go hang out. The Hilton was his home and before Cher or Madonna it was all ELVIS on the marquee. And to this day he has staying power. When you read or hear the dozens of interviews of people who worked or cared for him,  it is usually nice.  So its no surprise I want to sleep with the King.  Once for  $19.99 or twice for $35.00

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At the eleventh hour Mika will live out the rest of her years at a nice persons home. With 2 German Shepherds and another cat.  I may not have handled this whole catastrophe with grace or a  good attitude but God knew the pain I had. Now as I go to Las Vegas to celebrate a friends birthday I will also  celebrate how I went from pet owner to pet guardian.

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My dilemma with my cat has caused great  sorrow. I received the following text “what’s up with the cat?”    I replied I’ll go there today. Meaning my mom’s pad  “Do you want me to take the cat?” My friend said. This I where I got myself in big bad spot as I assumed she meant she going to take my cat. And she is  but to a vet. And maybe this vet will keep her for a while and maybe he won’t.  The driver said a cat will  not do well in a truck given she is older and ” when we are not in the cab for several days she can’t just live there. She, said cat, has a cattitude. I got her when my ex husband brought her home one day and because she was from a feral set and ugly no one wanted her  but us. 17 years later she essentially just eats and lays around.  I called about 12 cat related offers of help. No one wants an old cat. A humane shelter that is “no kill”  will in fact do that. The gal over the phone in a calloused response “ya we will put her to sleep in a week”. For 5 thousand dollars I can take a 3 hour drive and she can live out the rest of her 9 lives.  Here’s lies the rub she is not your average cat she had the cord wrapped around her twice when she was born she a little off. I don’t like her but I love her.

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