Mayflower Madness

Work has been somewhat hectic these last couple of weeks, and it's taken the motivation to write out of me. I promised you all the story of my horrible experience with the moving company Mayflower. I'll try not to drag this on. Thinking about it, the story of how I ended up moving to the west coast may also be something I'll post about. But to keep this entry somewhat short, I'll skip details on that although it is related.

In November of 2000, I found myself with a job offer here in the SF Bay area. It was an awesome deal and the company hiring me was paying for everything related to the move. They had contracted with Mayflower to move me from Long Island, New York to Foster City, California.

The first step was advance relocation services. They come to you place and pack and get ready to move all your goodies. They give some nice tips, leave boxes for packing some stuff yourself, and that part of the move was pretty sweet. I recall giving those guys a decent tip as well as buying pizzas and soda. Molloy Bros Moving and Storage was their name, and I have no problem with them. Hell, I'd recommend them.

A few days later the moving truck showed up, or what I thought was the moving truck. Yes, it was a tractor trailer with a full size moving rig. But I was told that only about half my stuff would be going on this truck. There was someone else's belonging's fulling up half the trailer and that was being dropped off in NV or AZ. Still, the driver and his helper were pretty cool. My two motorcycles were loaded on this trailer, and a bunch of other stuff. For those familiar with moving, the little stickers with a lot number and sequence number were put on my belongings and written down in a log or sort of a bill of lading. Except for the unexpected load split, this was also a pleasant experience. Another tip for the driver and his helper, and more pizza and soda.

Now things start getting dicey... The pickup for the rest of my stuff was delayed once, getting a phone call at the last minute that the truck will be by the next day. The next day, a moving van shows up, but not a tractor trailer. I ask about the vehicle and I was told that they are at my house to just pick up my stuff and it will be stored and transferred to the big rig that will drive it west. Whatever... Now, I had two window air conditioner units. One was an old Sears Coldspot, probably about 20 years old that still rocked. The other was a white Friedrich unit that I purchased that August, only a few months before. The little stickers were applied, logged, and the units wrapped in those moving blankets. More tips, more pizza, more soda. Soon, except for the things I was taking with me when I drove across the country, all my goodies were in the possession of Mayflower or their agents. A day or two later, I was driving across the country with my buddy Andy and Jessi my dog.

The trip to the west coast was for the most part uneventful. Played cat and mouse with a snow storm or two, but made it in four days.

I believe I arrived here on a Wednesday. That Thursday, the first truck arrived. The driver and his helper made great time getting my stuff unloaded and when we couldn't locate some small wood pieces for a bed frame, the driver paid for some wood we had bought and had cut to size at the local Home Depot. Not a problem with this crew. Once again; tips, pizza, soda. Hearty handshakes with the gentlemen and took the Harley for a quick blast around the neighborhood. So far, all is good.

A day or so later, no second truck. But I had bid my bud Andy farewell and dropped him off the at the airport (company that hired me paid for his one-way ticket back to NY). I also start my new job. I get a call saying my stuff will be delievered the next day. I take the day off, and about lunch time get a call saying not today. This happens about two or three more times! WTF! I'm starting to get concerned.

Finally, the truck does arrive. This second driver and his helper just don't seem all that right to me. As we're unloading my stuff, we get to the air conditioners. Sears Coldspot, check. Friedrich... hmmmm... unwrap the moving blanket and there's some brown generic brand air conditioner. Oddly, it has the same exact sticker; lot number and sequence number, that was put on my Friedrich. Think about that. Someone needed to unwrap my AC, move the sticker, and wrap the other AC. I make a stink and call Mayflower. I refuse to sign the receipt until the driver and myself make a note that the AC is not mine and initial it. There's also another box completely missing. This is getting annoying. Finally, small tip and no fucking pizza or soda, the moving truck leaves.

Mayflower customer service... sucks! When calling to complain, the customer service rep told me to contact the police where the AC was stolen. I was fucking furious! I told him to tell me which of his crack head employees stole it so I knew which jurisdiction to call. I mean, it seemed lost on this idiot that someone who worked for Mayflower had the access to unwrap my new AC, take the sticker off and put it on some other piece of shit, and wrap that. This guy was complete prick! My saving grace was that the company that hired me and was paying for the move (and at least one other person's move) played hardball. Basically, it they didn't pay for my loss, they weren't getting paid. So I was asked to supply a receipt for the AC and a list of the contents of the missing box. I had a receipt for the AC, which they did pay for in full. But at the time I could not figure out what was in the missing box. So, I made a list of various power tools since the box was from the shed or basement (I don't remember which). Unfortunately, I didn't put up my Christmas Tree until the next year. The missing box was Christmas Ornaments. That might not not seem too bad, but I had the ornaments from when I was kid. Hand blown glass ornaments from Poland (my maternal grandparents) and other sentimental ones.

So, if you're moving. Don't use Mayflower!

Now as I let out a sigh, I'm going to catch the Hawaii 5-0 premier.

Born to be wild

Sitting on my couch, watching the NASCAR Emory Healthcare 500 at Atlanta Motor Speedway on ESPN. It's Labor Day weekend and therefore I have the day off tomorrow. But this post isn't about Labor Day, nor is it about NASCAR. Back in July, I said that I should perhaps tell the story of how the movie "Easy Rider" had an impact on my life. So here goes.

The movie "Easy Rider" was released in 1969. Directed by Dennis Hopper (1936-2010), and written by Hopper along with Peter Fonda and Terry Southern. I'm not going to summarize the movie, but if you're someone who isn't familiar with it, please go to http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0064276/.

Now I didn't see it in the movies, as I was eight years old in 1969. I'm not quite sure exactly when I did see it, but I think I was ten or eleven years old (1971 or 1972) at the time. I remember being sick with a cold, flu, or some other ailment. I was having trouble sleeping, and my mom let me stay up in the living room and watch television. "Easy Rider" happened to be the late late movie or something like that, starting at maybe 1:00am or something. As a young boy, seeing the motorcycles on the screen while I was changing channels looking for something to watch, I had stopped searching and took my spot on the couch. I think I caught it right near the beginning. As a young boy I obviously was interested in cars, motorcycles, and anything else with a motor that made noise. :) Sears catalogs would have mini-bikes and go-carts, and like every other boy my age, one or the other would be on my Christmas list every year.

So there I was, feeling under the weather, not being able to sleep, and watching a movie that contained themes and images I didn't quite understand. To me, the stars of the movies were the motorcycles. The big star was the Captain America bike ridden by Peter Fonda. Lots of chrome and the stars and stripes paint job on the gas tank, quite an impression to a young boy. But it wasn't just the motorcycles. I may not have fully understood the scenes depicting drug use and other adult issues, but something inside of me understood the feeling of being out on the road. Something inside my head clicked that night. I started drawing choppers in my school notebooks, and buying the chopper type motorcycle magazines that were allowed to be sold to minors. I knew that when I got older, I would be riding a motorcycle all over this great country.

Time did pass, and I owned a few different motorcycles over the years. And yes, I did ride across the country and through 42 states on my first Harley Davidson. Also, somewhere along the line as I matured I started to appreciate the motorcycle ridden by Dennis Hopper, aka "Billy", in the movie. I think that's common with a lot of fans of the movie who ride. Would I have been this interested in motorcycles (mainly Harleys and Choppers) have I not seen "Easy Rider" that night years ago? I guess we can never know. But I did the see the movie and I believe it had an impact on my life as it is today.

Thank you Dennis Hopper. RIP.

Okay, now that I got that out of the way I can watch the last half of the race still going on. Going to wash the SRT8 tomorrow, and grill up some steak for dinner later in the day. For those of you celebrating the holiday, enjoy it.

Until next time, take care.