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Profile, Quizzical

The moving story strikes back!

Here the story shifts from postmodern slackerdom to sitcom.

So I arrived in Portland, with a not-very-loaded truck, a car in tow, and an emergency call from my Mother's apartment manager. I unhooked the car from the truck and, after some thought, hauled off to the north Portland U-Haul drop point. The manager, an easy-going black man, unhooked the two-wheeled car dolly and left me. Directly in front of the truck was a well-rutted alley, apparently used as a pull-through for trucks. Or maybe not. As I drove through it, trees grabbed at the truck, and a neighbor had left a deep pile of evil-smelling muck in the alley, in which the truck got stuck. After some rocking, I got the truck going again, and arrived at--gasp--pavement. As I drove away, the truck made clunking noises paced to the rhythm of the wheels. I ended very glad I had purchased U-Haul's truck damage "insurance."

So in this condition, still with a loose truck-load of my belongings, I went to visit my mother's retirement apartment. After a few miles, the clunking noises stopped. The emergency paperwork done (Mother had misplaced the request for it for over a month), I returned to my new apartment, there to unload.