I'm sitting here staring at a box. It's a box that still has the green moving sticker on it from when we carted it from Ohio to Annapolis. It also made the journey from Annapolis to Pittsburgh. Interestingly enough, it also accompanied us on our move from Pittsburgh to St. Louis. And it certainly seems like it's going to go with us again as we make our way back to Ohio. I really have no idea what's inside of it. I or Donna never bothered to mark on the box exactly what its contents are. And we've never bothered to open it. It just seemed like one less box that had to be packed because, well, it's already packed. So, what the heck....we'll just take it.
Indelibly etched on to the souls of many is the mantra "moving sucks". And it does. There's nothing pleasant about it. Once you've made the decision to move, a whole cavalcade of decisions lies ahead. The whole process is rendered even more grotesque if you have to do as we're doing: selling a house, buying a house, and coping with all the logistics therein. Our biggest decision was to decide whether or not WE were actually going to do the move ourselves. When we left Pittsburgh for St. Louis, we decided to save money by doing just that. After renting a 26-foot Ryder truck, we severely miscalculated the sheer amount of "stuff" we had. So after making the 13-hour drive (this truck wouldn't go above 55 m.p.h.) I had to fly back to Pittsburgh the following weekend, rent another truck, and drive it back to St. Louis, too. (luckily, I could maintain normal highway speed in this one.) After grimacing at the thought of that ordeal, we both decided that we would bite the bullet and pay someone to move us.
Donna has been in Ohio for what seems like 3 months. She's been physically pounding on drywall, ripping out cabinets, and organizing workers to try to make our new home habitable. While she's taking care of the Ohio house, I've been here trying to move forward the sale of this one. It hasn't been easy. Our radon test came back with high levels and supposedly there's evidence of past termite existence. So, those things have to be taken care of. And then there's the whole issue of the studio and the business. My mind has had its logic-boundaries stretched to capacity by trying to grapple with a smooth transition between tearing down the studio here and re-starting it there, with as little down-time as possible.
Then, there are the really crucial issues that moving presents. For instance, if I cancel my cable with Charter Communications, how will I record The Office if the DVR is not hooked up in the new house? And what about beer? I know exactly how long it takes to get to the beverage store from where we currently live. Are there quality outlets near the new place? And will I have ample refrigeration, especially for a multitude of 22-0unce "bombers"?
What will I miss about St. Louis? Not much. It was nice being around Donna's son and his family. I loved our neighbors. And this was clearly the nicest house we've ever owned, and I'll miss it. I have to say that I did develop a small affection for the Cards (it's hard not to do that here, unless you're already a Cubs fan). And Square One Brewery makes a kick-butt IPA. But aside from that, I don't think I'll wake up yearning for Imo's Pizza, and I never did totally understand the fixation with toasted ravioli. I won't miss the August summers or the freakish thunderstorms. And as an asthma sufferer, the fact that the state of Illinois lets people burn leaves is criminal.
So as we try to mitigate radon, figure out how we're going to pay Wheaton Van Lines, disconnect microphones and cables, and cancel trash service, I continue to stare at this box, and others like it. I'm not sure what's inside of it, but it's Ohio-bound, and so are we. In another week, it's one final trip along the I-70 corridor.
* Why not grab your favorite beverage, cop a squat, and groove to some DEMOS at www.mattmultimedia.com