Funny story:
So, at around 4:00 today, the mover-estimator fellow dropped by. For those of you heretofore unacquainted with mover-estimator fellows, this is someone who comes to your place of residence before you make a big move out to California and tells you how much your posessions weigh in order to decide how much to charge you to cart your life across the great divide. Apparently, the wife and I weigh about 3,200 lbs., not counting our cars.
This is fairly good news. As it turns out, we can afford a moving company, freeing us up to enjoy the journey in my little 97 Nissan Altima. Huzzah, and drinks all 'round, then.
But, that's not the funny part. Wait for it!
The funny part: as you might expect, the mover-estimator-fellow was a real hillbillyish salt-of-the-earth good ol' boy. Stocky, wearing an armless t-shirt, gruff drawl. "Mr. Bayr? Ahm hahr t' estamaitcher stuff fer yeh."
Well, he's a very decent guy, straight-shooter, easy to talk with, heart of gold. The kind of guy you'd trust with about 3,200 lbs. of your home. Very warm, very efficient. His name's Jeff.
When Jeff asked why we're moving, I mentioned my screenplay work. He was genuinely interested, and noted that he writes stories and poems of his own from time to time. 'Now, that's nice," I thought.
Then Jeff asked my wife and me if we'd like to hear him recite one of his poems to us. We said Sure.
Immediately, Hillbilly Jeff launches into an epic-length treatise on death, religion, morality, history, disease, politics, and the human condition, all in rhyme. For 10 minutes we sat as he rattled off couplet after couplet of his worldview and What It All Means. We were stunned. This was easily a sizeable undertaking. And his recitation was as speedy and precise as Pinafore. From there, he went on to tell us of his Great Idea For A Movie, which involved a spoiled heiress, a deranged billionaire, and a massive plot to change the ritual of human burials to accomodate above-ground mounds, as opposed to below-ground graves.
It was all utterly surreal. But I have to admit: this man had a spark for ideas that was utterly refreshing, however unpolished.
Come to think of it, maybe it wasn't all that funny.
Good luck, Jeff, and God Bless.
So, at around 4:00 today, the mover-estimator fellow dropped by. For those of you heretofore unacquainted with mover-estimator fellows, this is someone who comes to your place of residence before you make a big move out to California and tells you how much your posessions weigh in order to decide how much to charge you to cart your life across the great divide. Apparently, the wife and I weigh about 3,200 lbs., not counting our cars.
This is fairly good news. As it turns out, we can afford a moving company, freeing us up to enjoy the journey in my little 97 Nissan Altima. Huzzah, and drinks all 'round, then.
But, that's not the funny part. Wait for it!
The funny part: as you might expect, the mover-estimator-fellow was a real hillbillyish salt-of-the-earth good ol' boy. Stocky, wearing an armless t-shirt, gruff drawl. "Mr. Bayr? Ahm hahr t' estamaitcher stuff fer yeh."
Well, he's a very decent guy, straight-shooter, easy to talk with, heart of gold. The kind of guy you'd trust with about 3,200 lbs. of your home. Very warm, very efficient. His name's Jeff.
When Jeff asked why we're moving, I mentioned my screenplay work. He was genuinely interested, and noted that he writes stories and poems of his own from time to time. 'Now, that's nice," I thought.
Then Jeff asked my wife and me if we'd like to hear him recite one of his poems to us. We said Sure.
Immediately, Hillbilly Jeff launches into an epic-length treatise on death, religion, morality, history, disease, politics, and the human condition, all in rhyme. For 10 minutes we sat as he rattled off couplet after couplet of his worldview and What It All Means. We were stunned. This was easily a sizeable undertaking. And his recitation was as speedy and precise as Pinafore. From there, he went on to tell us of his Great Idea For A Movie, which involved a spoiled heiress, a deranged billionaire, and a massive plot to change the ritual of human burials to accomodate above-ground mounds, as opposed to below-ground graves.
It was all utterly surreal. But I have to admit: this man had a spark for ideas that was utterly refreshing, however unpolished.
Come to think of it, maybe it wasn't all that funny.
Good luck, Jeff, and God Bless.
posted by Jeremy Bear at
8:43 PM
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