“Then we’ll pack everything in the house into cartons. I don’t love packing; it’s inside work and mostly tedious. I do enjoy packing stemware, china, sculpture, and fine art, but that stuff is getting rarer in American households. Books are completely disappearing. (Remember in Fahrenheit 451 where the fireman’s wife was addicted to interactive television and they sent fireman crews out to burn books? That mission has been largely accomplished in middle-class America, and they didn’t need the firemen. The interactive electronics took care of it without the violence.)”
—Finn Murphy, “A High-End Mover Dishes on Truckstop Hierarchy, Rich People, and Moby Dick: On the beauty and burdens of the long haul.” Longreads.com. September 21, 2017.
Not a representative quote, but a fascinating excerpt. Something to add to the book queue.
2 thoughts on “Driving a Moving Truck – a.k.a. Bedbuggers”
That was a good read. I’m reminded of a story about my Uncle Buck (no shit). He held a number of jobs during his alcohol-soaked years, one of which was driving furniture from North Carolina up to Pennsylvania. The company he worked for was not terribly maintenance oriented and pressured their drivers to do some pretty unsafe things. Buck’s last day on the job was when he lost his brakes going through the mountains and had to make use of a runaway truck ramp. By his telling, he used every inch of the ramp, pushing up a berm of dirt in front of his rig that nearly covered the hood. After he came to a stop, he lit a Pall Mall, grabbed his personal effects, tossed the keys in the cab and walked away, hitching a ride back to Salem.
Sounds like the sanest response to almost being killed on the job I’ve ever heard, followed by a drink.
Thought the whole piece was great. I wonder how well it holds up given the book length treatment.
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