A friend chased me down at church the other day and asked if I could help him move a little TV stand from one lady’s house to another’s. “Shouldn’t take long,” he said.
“Sure,” I dutifully agreed.
So yesterday, off we went to get it. The little TV stand was actually a well-built, solid walnut entertainment center. Uh, well…it was taller than either of us. We removed a couple of shelves and wiped the dust off the top to get rid of as much weight as possible.
“This might be a three-man job,” my friend said quietly.
“You should have brought a dolly or something,” the lady told us. “Don’t you have a hand-truck or something?”
We lifted it a few inches off the carpet and managed to get it to the hallway leading outside. After that, we were going to figure out how to wiggle it around two sets of hall stairs.
“Wait. My son has a skateboard. He won’t be using it today. Too much snow and stuff. And go out the back door. No steps.” That was nice.
Bleeve it or not, that skate board worked a wonder. We only had to push the entertainment center down a narrow 200-foot sidewalk, across a decorative footbridge and down five steps. (The sidewalk is a textbook example of bad concrete work.) We pushed, twisted, lifted and wiggled our way over wide cracks, across small patches of ice and uneven sections. All the while balancing that piece of furniture on that little skateboard. The lady was alongside encouraging us with "...when the other guys first brought it in here they didn't this much trouble." We made it to the end, though. Eventually.
And as I lifted —oof!—my end to get the thing into the pickup, I noticed a little discomfort in my lower back. But pretty soon, I forgot about it.
It was real easy getting it off and into the second lady’s home. Well, except for dragging it across the carpet. Oof! Old skateboards aren’t built for old shag carpets.
I woke up this morning and noticed an unusual pain in both shoulders. But my back felt okay. So I went for my daily walk.
When I got back, My First Wife cheerfully suggested, “Hunny, can we shampoo the carpet this morning.” I dutifully brought the shampooer up from the basement. Oof! Oh! Ow!
“I wonder what she means by 'we'."
Suddenly that little discomfort in my back kicked in. And kick is the right word, too. Oh, did I mention that my sore shoulders were suddenly asking for some attention?
Hey listen! If you ever hear me agree to move furniture and then shampoo the carpet, will you drag me outta the house as fast as you can and toss me onto the busiest freeway you can find?
Thank you. I feel better already.