Stuff

'A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it' George Carlin

When you move to the other end of the world, you learn stuff about stuff. You learn that, while the idea of stuff is universal, there are local 'stuff nuances' that have very practical implications.

So, as I was packing for the big move, I was suddenly facing some big decisions about my stuff. What stays, what goes on plane, what goes on the ship, and what do I (OH NO) get rid of?

Well, being an American with more stuff (and closet space) than anyone needs, the choices seemed simple.

What stuff stays in Long Beach? The stuff that I haven't touched in 10 years, will not miss while I am gone, but I will definitely need when I get back to the States. Like the overalls that I bought at Costco in 1988. They're essential to my being.

What stuff goes on the ship? Anything that I might have touched in 5 years and might again touch in the next 5 years. Surely it is critical that I have it while I am in Australia.

What stuff goes on the plane? Just enough stuff to tide me over for a few months. (More about this later.)

What stuff do I get rid of? That little pile over there. (But wait...surely I might need the feathered Tiara from New Years Eve 1997. Let me grab it before it goes to Goodwill.)

So all these decisions were made in September, knowing that the stuff on the ship would not arrive in Sydney until sometime in November.

So, in the interim, with the precision of an air traffic controller, I brought some winter/spring clothing on the first flight to Sydney. I left clothing for the Hawaii vacation in Long Beach to retrieve in October. I shipped that clothing from Hawaii to Sydney when the vacation was over and I headed straight to Tokyo. I left summer business clothing in Tokyo for a month between business trips. I bought warmer clothing on my next trip to Tokyo, since it was now fall. I shipped that clothing back to Sydney when the trip was over. I carried some back to Sydney after that trip, where I was successfully reunited with all that stuff.

Fast forward to November, and I have just been notified that the ship arrived in Sydney yesterday. It will take a week or two to clear customs. But, Houston, here's where we have a problem.

The apartment in Sydney has 3 bedrooms, 2 baths, 1 medium sized closet in the master bedroom, one small coat closet in the hall, and one humongous linen closet that could hold all the linens on the QE2....that's it. The master closet is already full with all the stuff above (plus a few of John's shirts and jeans). Apparently, Australians prefer their stuff to be in the form of towels, sheets and tablecloths, rather than apparel. By the way, this is not just a theory. I have concrete evidence. Sunday, our neighbor in the next building put a white linen tablecloth on his patio table to serve some friends burgers. He was wearing shorts, a tee shirt and flip flops.

So that brings me back to the stuff on the ship? What do we do with it? Well, we are hastily assembling a new Ikea wardrobe, and figuring out how to repurpose the linen closet to be more suitable to Americans, we are also facing the harsh reality that some of the stuff has to go...

..Or maybe I can rent a storage locker...

Bird is the Word

So here I am at the other end of the world. I am reminded every morning how I live in a semi tropical environment...beginning at about 4:30 AM.

Around that time, the birds begin their version of constant communications...and while they are in effect 'tweeting' it is very different than Twitter. There's noise...lots of it.

Perhaps the most notable contributor to the noise is the cockatoo that we have named Kingsley. His favorite perch is atop the tallest tree in the neighborhood. This tree happens to resemble a Christmas tree, and Kingsley sits atop it like an angel ornament...except that he's no angel.

He (making an assumption on the gender) is quite territorial, sitting at the top and squawking at every bird that dares to sit at his level. His squawk sounds very much like an imitation of Burgess Meredith's signature Penguin laugh in Batman. Holy feather ruffling, Batman, I think we need to get to the Batcave. And yes the connection to Batman is bigger than just the Penguin. More on this later.

But Kingsley has numerous foes to chase. First to mind are the Magpies. Remember Heckel and Jeckle? Well, they live here. And the cartoon was less imagination and more reality based. One tried to walk its way into my kitchen last week. And its gait was very reminiscent of Heckel, or maybe Jeckel.

Then there are the 'cheeseburger' birds. Anyone who has spent any time in Hawaii knows the birds with the shrill, short staccato cry that sounds like 'Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger' Well the Aussie version has an Aussie accent, and I'm not sure if it's asking for vegimite.

Of course, let's not forget the green parrots that are abundant, and the myna birds that do their fair share of cackling.

But nothing compares to the non-bird flying beings. The bats. Every evening at sunset, the bats take off from the Royal Bontanical gardens that sit across the bay from our apartment. And for about 20 minutes, 'Bat TV' is on air. Thousands of these magnificent flying rodents go past our window. Some settling in the fruit bearing tree behind our apartment, some soaring off to distant feeding grounds. With a wing span of close to 3 feet, it is really a sight to behold.

Now I just want to sleep past 4:30...

The Silly Millimeter: furnishing the apartment

Back in the 60's, when cigarette companies were allowed to advertise on U.S. TV...and have fun doing it, there was a company called Benson and Hedges who gained notoriety by offering a 100 mm cigarette that was longer than anything else on the market. (until a competitor offered one that was a 'silly millimeter longer')

Anyway, the ads for Benson and Hedges featured people's cigarettes not quite fitting in tight places. Elevator doors would close, snipping off the end, doors would close in front of them, crushing them...you get the idea.

This brings me to the saga of furnishing the Sydney apartment. You see, our building is quite small, with only one apartment per floor, so it is rare that more than 2 or 3 people ride the elevator up or down. So, the designers of the building decided to put more square meters in the apartment, and less in the elevator. Essentially, the elevator is the size of a small closet. (even small by Sydney standards, which is a subject for another day) It's something that's not really noticed in day to day life.

However....when it's time to furnish the apartment (which has relatively sizable rooms), it becomes the bane of every delivery man's existence.

So, as I was heating up my American Express card to turbo shop for 'disposable', but passable furniture, I came across a leather sofa and love seat at a really good price. After sitting on nothing but the floor and my inflatable mattress for two weeks, the thought of having a real seating surface was irresistible. When the guy in the furniture store said he could deliver it that day, I was ready to kiss him on his semi toothless mouth!

When the two delivery blokes arrived, they tackled the love seat first. It was then I learned that cheap, leather furniture has the illusion of cushions, but in fact, somehow they make it all in one piece....nothing comes apart. this can be a problem. After squishing the one piece loveseat through the door, into the' lift', and into my living room, it was time to bring up the sofa. Again squishing it through the door, they arrived at the lift and began to load it inside. And here's where the cigarette commercial becomes relevant. It seems that a fully assembled cheap leather sofa with cushions is about a millimeter longer than will fit in my lift. Trying every conceivable angle and orientation, the millimeter continued to triumph.

At this point, one of the guys told the guy who appeared to own the truck to 'Tell the Laydee that we tried but we can't get this in her apawtment'.

So their suggestion was that they drop it in the parking garage, and I could figure out a way to get it to the apartment.

'No that won't work for me. If you can't get it to my apartment, please remove the loveseat, put both of them back in your truck, and arrange for my refund.'

Luckily for me, it was late in the afternoon, and they had a full schedule of deliveries beginning early the next day. And since the next day was Sunday, they couldn't take my stuff back until Monday....no room in the elevator, no room in the truck!

Then I remembered the fire stairs!! By building had 2 sets. After playing the dumb helpless female to the hilt (and dangling a $50 bill in front of them), they agreed to try to hike the sofa up to my 5th floor apartment. While the corners on the fire stairs were tight, 2 hours later, I had a sofa in my apartment!

So, when my queen sized mattress arrived 2 days later, I did not even bat an eye when the mattress missed fitting in the elevator by just this much....

I knew to have a cold bottle of water waiting at the top of the fire stairs....