02:08 Jan 05 2012
Times Read: 2,051
Got a call at 3:30ish this afternoon, in the next town, from sis saying the courier company was calling, needed a instant pickup and drive. I was sort of in a job but knew the guys could handle it. So there went my night at home, snuggled up to my repaired internet.
I drive home to the UPS store, pick up the movie at 4:00pm, drive to my office to pick up the papers and directions, off to drive 129 miles into Eastern Kentucky hills to reach the movie place 2 hours and 15 mins later. Yes- I speed, badly. *shifty eyes* It is 55 MPH Hwy.... do the math.
Sunset in the hills, such golden beauty
ANYway...
I get there and this man meets me at the door, huffing. "About time you got here." I just sat the 45 lbs film box down and asked him to sign my papers. I was 45 mins early... so fuck you. I left him humming Cee- Lo Green song in my head and think of the rum and coke that is waiting me at the end of my day.
The movie- I think is really funny as I see the ad on here, doesn't even start till Friday. I have no idea what the guys bitch was. I never even got into the job till a few hours ago. But you never know what he had to have dealt with so... still, fuck you. lol
5 hours driving, made me think of a lot of things.
Christmas time and my sister tells me of a death of a old customer we had. Dad moved him when he first started in the moving business, in a very small truck that is smaller then a UPS van even. Him and his new wife from a very country town. He was into coal, and made a very good living off of it.
The second time day moved them- he used a bigger truck, then the next time two big truck, to the next to last move that took a tractor trailer. He moved into a house that today is still one of the biggest in town, swimming pool in the basement, dozen bedrooms. And it was during this time the two sons and daughter went to school with my sisters, as they were older then me.
One son got killed driving down the interstate, going way to fast, flipped his convertible car. He died in the wreck and everyone said his mother was never the same.
I liked the man, he always talked to you when he spotted you, even if it was in a little country store and he just stop to see if my Dad was driving the truck. The wife was always nice to me, but I had little to do with her. The sons and daughter- never dealt with much. I know in school they played all snobby, but then... they never really worked for anything. Spoiled would be a good word for them.
So the one son died, the other grew up and moved on- and the couple decided to move to Lexington. (biggest town to us) They split the house up, moving some to a town house *huge* and most of the other items to a home in Florida.
I remember Mr. Rose came over and visit Dad, saying this was his last move. He was done. We not only moved him, but had moved several of his offices in the years. He always used us. Dad and him talked, and Dad told him he did not think he could handle the Florida move, as that was the time we where closing down our long haul trucks.
He got the company Dad said to use, but he still wanted Dad to do the move to Lexington. We did. On Thanksgiving holiday. I remember going into the house, thinking how special it was. First safe room I ever seen, panic room is what they call them now. And each bedroom had metal doors, with peep holes. Seems the coal business made them a little security aware. Three trucks loads went to Lexington, after a week of packing, as Mrs. Rose wanted us to pack all of the house, Fl. move as well. She trusted Dad with her china, her $$ items. She was country, but boy did she try to be fancy.
I say this as I remember a side to her many did not see. Sure she wore rings worth more then most people make in a year, but on Thanksgiving day when we came in to start loading, she was in the kitchen with her housekeeper, and they had been up since the sunrise, cooking us a heck of a meal. She had picked the dates for the move, and we worked all day with that lovely meal keeping us going. I mean she feed 6 of us, plus her own 3. While moving, mind you. lol
I also remember her son's room. She had left it as was, his clothing, everything. My older sister took that room to pack, having to deal with her picking something up, saying how it was his favorite, or that she remember when he got it. So sad, but it had to be done and she knew it was time.
Mr. Rose died coming out of UK ballgame, with his grandson. he left a charity that help send child to collage, in his son's name. They became well known for the charity work in eastern Kentucky, and Lexington. He always said he remembered where he came from.
I know he always remembered us, and helped our little company grow when he could of went to any mover and had the jobs done.
I can remember him standing with dad in his 5 car garage and talking how his truck sizes had moved up, and how Dad joked with her that she didn't need all this stuff. She never took offense- would just tell him she worked and made it, but she could go back to a one room hut that she grew up in at anytime.
They always hit me as people who enjoyed what they made, while never forgetting their stock, history.
I heard someone today talk about his death, and how rich they acted. And I remember Mr. Rose being so nice to Dad and us, and her cooking us Thanksgiving breakfast when she did not have to.
And it was a country feast of Ham, bacon, eggs, home made biscuits, gravy, and she told you to seat at her 14 chair dining room table and eat. She did not have to do that, but she did, and they sat and ate with us. Few people would ever do that, rich or not.
I guess driving in the coal area, seeing the coal trucks and coal companies, made me think of them. Maybe I can send a card, they did when Dad passed if I remember right.
Ok- rum is calling.
COMMENTS
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DireConsequences
00:07 Feb 01 2012
I could answer it before I clicked your journal to read the entry. O_o
Maybe the model just isn't aware of themselves and their wants as much as they need to be.
As for me, I've been in a depressive mood as of late. First image in my mind for a theme of makeup for inspiration: a weeping willow in the morning.
It would definitely take planning. =) Haha!
Vampirewitch39
00:28 Feb 01 2012
But you have something... and what an image. :) *hugs*
But to just sit, say.. "Make me whatever" when I have meet you five, six times in ten years... doesn't really fly for me.
Morrigon
00:45 Feb 01 2012
Oh it's just a challenge. Consider them your canvas. When they say that it's like waving a flag in front of a bull.
Requiem
00:57 Feb 01 2012
Imp!
IMP IMP IMP!
:D
And Mischief. ♥
Something that says mischievous imp!