The Chairman's Corner

By John Chipman, Jr.

January 2022

My summer vacations ended abruptly in the late 1970’s when I was 14-years old. The early morning wake-up call from my dad was concise: “Hey Knucklehead, get up, it’s time to drive to the warehouse.” Our family business was an agency for Mayflower in San Leandro. My first reaction was misery: a moving company had just rolled a critical hit against my summer scheme for all-nighters playing Dungeons & Dragons with nerdy friends. During a 5:30 a.m. ride to work my dad explained the very basic duties and expectations of a Summer Helper in the Bay Area during the peak season months. Here’s his advice. Much of it is still spot-on.

Be Ready. Showering at night buys you an extra 10 minutes of sleep. Pack a lunch. Keep it at the ready, but only eat when the driver says it’s time. If the Sales Rep. underestimates the job, there’s no time to stop work. When that happens, your Banana Splits lunch box transforms into a miniature cattle trough. Unfortunately, grazing on Hostess Ding-Dongs on the run isn’t great for digestion. Bring a toolbox. Re-assembling a swing set is a rare art form. Expect to fall asleep on the couch beforeRockford Files.

Appropriate Attire. Zombies can dress however they want when they punch the clock. Movers can’t. At residence, helpers must be in uniform, including an off-white button-down shirt with Pilgrim green pinstripes and a Mayflower ship patch on your chest. Shirt and pants must be clean, never smelly. Red Wing boots are good; steel toe preferred. May dropping walk boards and tennis shoes never meet. Summer Helpers get big muscles below the waist moving dressers and buffets. Ben Davis pants last longer than Dickiesdo, and have the extra space needed to accommodate your supersized calves, bulky quads and expanding derriere. No matter the brand, your pants legs should taper like stovepipes, not butt-clenching like Brooke Shieldsjeans. Lest you nick the customer’s nice wood furniture, no scratchy belt buckles are allowed. You’ll wish you were at the zombies’ jobsite if you cause a claim.

Customer Courtesy. Never ask for or expect a tip; be grateful if you receive one. Always ask to use the restroom; strike a match if needed. Pirates and Vikings can curse at their job sites; Helpers can’t. Never stare too long at the customer’s spouse, no matter how attractive they might be. Frankenstein’s monster can run amok throwing villagers down the town well. By contrast, Helpers shall always remain polite: smile and address customers as “Sir” and “Ma-am”. In fact, it’s best to leave all forms of customer communication to the Driver. Don’t smoke near the residence. No amount of Old Spice aftershave can mask the smell of Newport menthols.

Unwritten Rules. The Driver never sets foot in the residence after the initial walkthrough with the customer. Even so, the Driver will remember the exact location of all of the big pieces of furniture – “Fetch me the six-drawer metal desk from the basement!” While the driver builds ramparts of household goods in the van, you will race with other Helpers like sled dogs in and out of the residence and up and down the walk board. Like a lime green Clark forklift moving vaults, new Helpers will always walk backward carrying two-man pieces. A “humpstrap” is used to carry stuff, like dishpacks, on your back. It’s not a device for enhancing late-night intimacy. Never put gas in a diesel engine; that’s really, really bad. Get used to the smell and taste of coffee. If you wear a watch, please help the Driver complete the bill of lading’s loading and unloading timeline. Don’t forget to double the drive time on a local move. If you can explain and calculate full replacement valuation, you’re a genius. After the job, strap the furniture pads like miniature high-rises to the van’s walls. Lest you look like an amateur, the pads’ neatly folded sides must face the van’s rear doors. Movers Don’t Whine or Quit. On a shuttle in the Oakland/Berkeley Hills, never complain. “Bitching” only makes a hard job harder, and a long day even longer. “Hard work” and “taking care of the customer” are not abstract thoughts. They define who we are as an industry and family business. Finally, during the long ride back to the warehouse, there is no better feeling than falling asleep in the cab after an exhausting day of helping a gracious family move into their new home. Bet you can’t wait for school to resume in September.

January 2022 - CMSA Communicator