Moving...again...

So we are hitting the road again, back to California. In the last four years, we have made three major moves across the country. It is starting to become standard. We are just used to keeping it simple and downsizing. This time around as we are packing it is becoming easier to get rid of unnecessary items, clothes, kitchen supplies, etc. The staff at Buffalo Exchange here in Nashville is probably getting tired of me hauling boxes and boxes of old band t-shirts.

Moving is always bittersweet. We look forward to getting back to Santa Monica, the beach, fish tacos, our friends there and riding our bikes to work, but leaving is always hard. We are fortunate and always find AMAZING people wherever we go, and leaving people is hard. We know we will see them all again, but it does suck. We have had a blast finding new restaurants with our friends here, having BBQ pizza cook-offs with our neighbors (who we love dearly), and sharing so many porch beers. 

Nashville is where I bought my first home and took some significant steps in my adult life. This is where I decided to make Jamie my (future) wife and where we pushed our careers. Nashville continued to push Jamie and me to work together as a team. When we first got here, we did not know a soul and that kind of pressure can make or break a relationship, but we only got stronger. We will miss everyone here. Thank you to anyone who was kind to us, shared their lives with us and treated us like family. We love you.

-YourFriendMatt

Hell on Earth...

I am at the Department of Motor Vehicles. This is hell.

February 3rd 2015 - It's a Tuesday morning. The DMV opens at 8 on a beautifully brisk SoCal morning. I grab my coffee-to-go mug and leave to get there by 7:30am, to be the first in line when they open. Pulling onto Colorado Ave. I see a line of people and think nothing of it. After all my local DMV is across the street from Universal Music Group, maybe there is a celebrity signing or free concert. Nope. This endless line of disgruntled zombies holding paperwork is here to get a title changed or take their drivers test. This should be fun.

They don't open for another half hour. 

This is probably my fault. I should have followed the rules, been aware of my expiring license and got it taken care up in a timely manner making a reservation. I did not do any of that and now I am paying the price. When I finally got into the building, just to get into another line, the chipper administrative officer told me I needed a reservation to take my California drivers exam and added "They next one I can schedule you for..." trailing off in silence squinting at the glow coming from his computer screen "Is late March! Wow! That's not bad at all." I stare in awe. I can't do anything but I can't be without a license for a month and a half. I beg and plead asking if there is anything else I can do and he brings me in close to tell me a secret. "The DMV in Granada Hills accepts walk-ins." He whispers "You should be able to get in and out of there quick!" I thank him for the tip and jump in the car - and expired license - to Granada Hills.

After sitting in in the other Hell on Earth Los Angeles provides to the world - The 405 - I arrive a quick hour and a half later at the next DMV and there is no place to park. Usually not a good sign. Remember how that guy at the other DMV said I should be able to get 'In and out'? Well, this is what I walked into.

5 hours, 3 different lines and a panic attack later I walked out. 5 hours. 5 hours of sitting. I had so much time on my hands I wrote this blog, downloaded the DMV App and took practices driver tests. I even called home to a few people to let them know I was still alive.

This is a tale of caution. Don't make the same mistake I did. Make a reservation for the DMV. And if someone gives you advice at the DMV punch him in the balls.

Moving Day...

Last week Ryan told me he was moving. "Totally awesome new place on the beach man! I am so pumped!" As a friend this is one if the last things you want to hear because an important question immediately follows up with that statement. The dreaded "Hey are you free this weekend?" Which translates to "Dude, please help me, I would do it for you...Come on! I'll buy you lunch! Just help me lift this fucking couch!" I let him plead his case, asked what actually has to be moved and where. Turns out we weren't going far, he didn't have that much, and beer was guaranteed. 

I arrived to his house on a hot, sunny Sunday afternoon. We were only moving him about a half a mile away. The biggest thing is his futon, no big deal. I figured he would have some sort of truck to get everything moved in one swoop. Wrong again, as I tend to be. My friend Ry drives a yellow Lotus convertible with trunk space the size of a shoe box. What the hell are we going to fit in that?

This is Ry...and the vehicle he thought would be good for moving...he is brilliant...at least he had beer...

Ry's car is so small that I, at 6' 2" stature, cannot fully fit into it and my legs do not fully stretch out in either of the seats. "How the hell are we supposed to move this crap when I can barely fit in this car." I ask. Ry is not the best critical thinker and he shrugged at this question. What else could we do?...We had a beer while we tried to figure this out. We knew we were going to have to get the futon moved and were stumped on how we were going to do it. Our friend Jeff stopped by while we were thinking of solutions for this problem. "Why don't you guys just water-taxi the futon over?" Jeff said. All of our eyes lit up. Ry lives on the Venice canals in LA and has 2 canoes... best idea ever right? We all ran to the canals to size up the canoes. A collective "This has to work" conversation broke out and we excitedly got on our way to execute our plans.

With a quick buzz and a new sense of accomplishment we decided we had to make one trip before our water adventure. The first trek we thought we would put as much in the trunk "space" as possible, sit me in the passenger seat, close the door and then pack more stuff on top of me through the roof. Sounds good right? Now that we were packed we set sail for a 2 minute drive around the corner to get his stuff moved to his new beach front house.

We both forgot it was St. Patricks Day weekend and it took us an hour to go less than 6 blocks...gotta love LA...all while it was 90 degrees out...with suitcases crushing me...and Rys gas light was on from the moment we left. To break down now would be poetic.

Finally arriving at Ry's new place we unpacked and I met Ry's roommate Scuba Steve. Turns out Steve is a photographer and when we told him about our plan to water-taxi a futon on 2 small canoes he wanted to document the whole thing.

Determination. stevenjayphoto.com...really rad stuff

We decided the car was now worthless and left it at Ry's new place. It only took us 6 minutes to walk back. "We should have just walked. " We both agreed. We quickly got the futon out back to the boats, tied it securely with guitar quarter inch cable (true band guys...it's all we had), and set sail to victory. 

"I can't believe how well this is working!" We kept yelling at each other paddling and taking chugs from our Pabst pounders we secured at the corner Asian market before our voyage. Everyone walking the canals clapped, cheered us on and Steve snapped photos. "It's to crowded to take the roads! We're taking to the sea!" Ry would yell to a passerby and slug his beer. "Yeah! It's moving day!" I would yell after him choking on a swig. At the end of our trek we still had to get the futon out of the canoes and carry it 2 more blocks...and we did so with passion and fury....mainly fueled by the beer.

stevenjayphoto.com

I still ill don't know where my shoes are but that is neither here nor there. Tales like this are what true friendship is all about. Ry is now happily moved in and loving his new location. We spent the rest of the night walking the beach, eating mexican food and drinking champagne. Not too bad. I think there is two morals to this story. First you can make any task, no matter how shitty it is...like helping your friend move, and make it an adventure. Secondly, when your friend asks him to help you move make sure he has beer.

YourFriendMatt