It Was a Moving Experience

Moving is stressful. Right up there with grieving and divorcing. The top three stressers, yessir.

I have moved so many times I've lost track. I can only remember two phone numbers, and neither of them are mine. Most of the moving occurred when I was single.

In the last eight years, the three moves have been with a family. Big difference. Four people have way more stuff.

Three years ago, we moved from a suburb in central Jersey to a small community five miles from Manhattan. It was a stressful move. We had to sell our condo and find a place to rent and get moved within a two week window.

If you want to sell quickly, you need to hire a realtor. A good realtor. We were fortunate to have a great realtor. On her advice, we rented storage space and de-cluttered and de-personalized our condo. It worked, we sold our condo in three days.

The move itself was tough, though. Two weeks is just not enough time.

So last December when we decided to downsize, I vowed to make this move less stressful. Renting storage space works well. You can pack stuff up and store it so when you move the furniture you don't have a lot of stuff in the way.

We decided to move over three months and three phases, overlapping one month where we would have two apartments. Phase one - spend a month filling up storage space. Phase two - move everything from apt to apt. Phase three - unload storage space. It made all the difference.

We also took the advice of one of our friends, a former nun who has been a mentor for my partner in the rehab field. Her philosophy is to hire young people whenever possible. We asked Max, the 18 year-old high school senior we live with, to convince three of his friends to help us move. Max is a big, strapping young lad and so are his friends. My partner and I are AARP members who don't do the heavy lifting well anymore. It was a good move.

Young people bring great energy and spirit to their endeavours. It changed the whole chemistry of the move. We rented a 16-foot truck, bought them pizza and had a blast. It didn't matter that there was a couple of feet of snow. I'm from Minnesota and my partner is from Ontario. Snow is no big deal.

Max and his friends came up with a name for their group (The Partial Moving Company) complete with slogans. We just had to take a photo of them in the back of the truck (you can see the snow). They are thinking of using the picture as an album cover for their band.

The most gratifying part came when we had finished unloading the truck and paid them for their efforts. It was wonderful to see their faces light up. They would have done it for just the pizza. We paid them well. They earned it.

I have a tradition going back to my Radford University days where I give away vinyl albums to those who help me move. Max told me his friends were huge Pink Floyd fans. I had several of their albums, including the early Syd Barrett stuff as well as 'Dark Side.' They were well pleased. It made my day. Good music is meant to be shared.

We just finished phase three, unloading the storage space. Now if we can just get everything unpacked ... whew!

Max Voted Today (For the First Time)

We live in New Jersey. So does Lady Liberty. She faces Manhattan, but she is a Jersey girl. As we say here, "Lady Liberty, Jersey's got your back." Today is the first Tuesday in November, and in New Jersey we get to vote EVERY year.

Not this every other year stuff other states do. We hold state-wide elections in odd years, which is fitting (so does Virginia). We didn't vote for a president or U.S. Senator today. But that didn't that matter, it's still a special election.

Especially for Max, the 18 year-old high school senior we enjoy living with. He voted for the first time. He got to vote for Town Council, U.S. Congress and local sheriff (you need to support your local sheriff). There was also a ballot measure that would prohibit the state from using unemployment funds for anything other than unemployment funds. Pretty sad that you need to force politicians to do this, nothing is safe or sacred with these scoundrels.

Max made sure he registered early, got his voter registration card and sample ballot in the mail. He then wisely asked his mother her opinions. After riding his bike around town putting in job applications (he's getting a car so he needs a job) we went to the local elementary school to vote.

I am not exaggerating when I say that most of the female poll workers (average age 83) swooned when Max walked into the building. He is a tall, curly-haired young person who looks a lot like Roger Daltrey.

I had been harassed by political operatives the last three years (I guess I just look like a heretic), so I was looking forward to voting with Max. I sensed that would change the dynamics favorably. I was right.

Poll workers went out of their way to help Max. I insisted he go ahead of me in line, announcing it was his 'first time.' He chatted with several poll workers on his way out. I was hoping he had a good time.

Apparently he did. What moved me was his awareness of what a privilege it is to vote. I would like to share with you what he wrote about his voting experience.

"Today I voted. For wherever there is a crooked politician looking to satisfy the discontented masses, I will be there. With my finger upon the plastic-covered paper ballot and my choices hidden behind a cloak, I will be a hero with a secret identity. Even if the people I voted for don't win, democracy will win. And the green x's, like stars in the sky, shall light not only my future, but the future of our country."

Lady Liberty, Max and all the young people voting today for the first time, they got your back.