The Truck Stops Here

Ah, the joys of moving.

(Ok, you have two options to correct the above intro in order to reduce its inherent sarcasm. You could 1) replace the word “joys” with something slightly more acerbic, like “pains,” “agonies,” or “suckerpunches.” Your other option is 2) replace moving with something more enjoyable, like “ice cream,” “David Fincher movies,” or the oft-wished for, “not moving.” Anyways…)

One of the first steps in the master habitation relocation transportation program is to find by which means you intend to transport all your worldly belongings from Point A to Point B, even if Point B is only .9 miles away from Point A. Sure, you’ve got options. Walking less than a mile is good for the legs and the heart, but could prove quite difficult with that entertainment center on your back with arms counterbalancing a food processor with a subwoofer. Your car could be another option, assuming your couch and other living room furniture maintain a maximum size, that being less than or equal to, well, the back seat of your car.

(If that were actually the case, I’d decorate my living room with car backseats. For people who can’t sit still during a gripping World Cup match, you could always invoke the seat belt rule.)

But ultimately, despite your interest in keeping moving costs to the pizza and beer you give friends to help you, you’re going to have to rent a moving truck.

Picking the right-sized truck is definitely harder than it sounds. How often in your day-to-day apartment living do you case the joint and calculate how many cubic meters of stuff you have? That’s the main metric you use to decide how big the truck should be. Now while depth and height may increase incrementally, the most important dimension is length. Rule Number One: Get a truck longer than your longest possession. In our case, that will be our couch. Look, I’ve broken Rule Number One once before and it was a harrowing experience. Senior year Spud and I bought a couch from a thrift store that would serve as a centerpiece to our dorm room (the couch, not the thrift store.) However, the only means we had to transport the Best Couch Ever was Dave’s dad’s SUV, on loan for a few days. Rule Number One would have shaken its head at us, as we drove from the store to the dorm with the couch sticking out the back. Don’t worry, they said – we’ll weigh it down to prevent it from falling out the back.

All I know is that lying on a couch has never been more terrifying.

Rule Number Two: Cautious is Good, but Conservative is Crazy – The easiest thing to do is just to get the biggest truck Budget or U-Haul has, and then you can certainly fit all your stuff, right? NO. (Damn, caps lock is effective. Got your attention now.) Having a 26’ truck may seem the right vehicle for the job, but remember this – you’ve got to drive it. And driving a moving truck is nothing like your sensible sedan for the following four reasons.

1 – Gas mileage. Not only will you probably be paying a per mile charge to the rental company, you’ve got to pay for gas. And if you just look at the truck funny, it’ll burn through three gallons without every turning on the ignition.
2 – Handling – You know those idiots who try and ride tricycles on the ice during intermission of hockey games. I’d like to introduce you to your 20’ tricycle. Happy steering.
3 – Comfort – The interior of a rental cab is very different from your car as well. Gone is the CD changer, the multi-speed air conditioning, and the power windows. Instead, enjoy the AM radio, the crank window that requires so much torque you might as well be winding a submarine hatch closed, and plenty of bags from Arby’s and Taco Bell at your feet.
4 – Reaction - You make a quick turn in your car, and your briefcase from work falls over in the back seat. You make a quick turn in the truck, and you’ve got a brand new 2-in-1 TV/Toaster Oven combo unit.