It's a mad, Mad-town: Part II

When we last left our hero he was getting ready for the big move out of storage and into the moving van....

If it doesn't fit, she must forget

From the moment I reserved the truck online I was worried that it may have been too small for all our items. The truck description said it was ideal for 2-3 bedrooms, which is what we had. I was also certain the sixteen-footer was the exact size we had used to move out of your apartment two years ago. What I failed to consider was that we had already taken several van loads of boxes out of the apartment before the big moving day.

When we arrived at the storage and began pulling everything out it became obvious in a hurry that there would be some casualties. I started to panic a little, knowing the certain doom that awaited me in Provo when Kaddi learned some things had been left behind.

Several friends from the ward were nice enough to come help on a Saturday morning. Unfortunately, they spent most of their time standing around while I tried to prioritize the load. I even called Penske again to explore the possibility of renting a larger truck - which would have meant taking everything out of this truck, driving over to pick up another truck, then coming back and re-loading it. Not the ideal scenario. The clincher was the price difference. It would have cost an extra five hundred dollars. Since all our stuff put together was probably only worth five hundred dollars, it didn't seem like a wise investment.

So I made the executive decision. It was like Sophie's choice. Some of our belonging would live, and some would die.

The story has a somewhat happy ending. Many of the items found good homes with friends, and others were sold at garage sales. I was really just hoping Kaddi would forget everything we had, and so wouldn't notice that certain things were missing.

She didn't forget.


Living Separate Lives

After loading up the moving van we had to return to Chez Rock Star to get the most prized item of all - the Pier One table. We parked the truck in front of Steve's house and began unloading some items so that we could make room for the Holy Grail of the Madison move.

We kept it small, and we kept it real


While we were working, several of Steve's neighbours passed by. You could just see the panic in their faces, thinking that he was moving out of the area.

"Oh no, he's moving out? If the Rock Star leaves the neighbourhood my property values are going to bottom out. Maybe if I promise to shovel his driveway all winter I can get him to stay..."

Steve calmed their fears by telling everyone that he wasn't moving, he was finally getting rid of some items that a freeloading friend had been keeping in his basement for over two years. Everyone had a hearty chuckle (except the free loading friend).

My laugh came later when the Rock Star went back into the house to take a phone call from his manager (Talk to me, Cindy!). Yet another neighbour came by and asked me if Steve and Jamie were moving out. I told him the marriage was in trouble and so Steve had decided to take an apartment on the west side. The guy responded, "That makes sense - I was trying to figure out why they had such a small moving truck."

We did manage to make room for the table and the chairs, which made all the way to Provo without any damage. (Which is pretty remarkable, considering it's soft wood.)

But when I was all packed up and had driven out of town, the table legs were still sitting in a box in Schaefer's basement.


Five minutes to Showtime

The most surreal experience of my weekend in Madison was church on Sunday. For ninety glorious minutes, I felt was it must be like to be the Rock Star.

Our ward in Madison has an elderly Lao couple who come to church faithfully each week, even though they understand little of the meetings. The Bishop gave them each callings, and was waiting for me to arrive so that I could explain those calling to them and assist in translating their ordination.

So, I arrived at church a half hour early and pulled up at the back entrance. Security whisked me through secret tunnels to the Bishop's office, where I spent the next thirty minutes in a meeting with the Manavongs talking about their callings and getting re-acquainted in Thai.

Then we headed into Sacrament meeting. It was complete chaos, with crowds of people pressing against security barriers, former Scouts asking me to sign their 'For the Strength of Youth' pamphlets, and everyone trying to get a glimpse of celebrity. It caught me a little off guard, but I really should have expected it. Madison was the birthplace of the Mack Strate phenomenon, and word had traveled fast that the local boy was returning home.

I have to admit that I was completely overwhelmed by the reception. If not for the coaching I received from the Rock Star, I never would have made it. He showed me how to stand so the paparazzi capture you from the best angles, how to approach the crowds without getting too close, and how to always leave them wanting more.

Sadly, I didn't get to visit with as many friends as I had hoped. Steve had to leave for a gig right after the meeting, and so security once again whisked us out through the service entrance and before I could re-orient myself we were on our way to the airport.