I’m sore. I’m always cold. I look around and see what looks like a post-apocalyptic wasteland, contained in the boundaries of a yard and a house, a house that if it could talk would wail for the sweet release of destruction, begging for the cruel purposeful kiss of a bulldozer’s blade or the warm, freeing licks of fire. But the house can’t talk, and even if it could it wouldn’t help us solve what we still need to do, which is haul out a metric crapton of garbage and unwanted, ruined furniture and so so much scrap metal, all of which is, again, sharp, wet, cold, and cruel. We did manage to get a U-Haul truck to ferry David and his crap to sunny Los Angeles, and let’s focus on that this morning, because David’s reaction to it is amazing.
Oh, I should mention the Autopian Readers’/David Leaves Detroit Party was a massive success, with fire and people and only a little bit of vomit and fun and cars and everything you’d want. David will write more about that soon, but until then here’s a little teaser:
Oh jeez that’s unflattering. I’m all bald spot and pixellated ass crack. Form an orderly line, ladies!
Anyway, back to this U-Haul. When David got in it to drive he was no-joke, genuinely and earnestly blown away by the aching beauty and luxury of the interior. This interior:
He was looking out over the vast spread of six-year-old gray plastic and vinyl and rubber and felt like a motherscratching king. It’s so quiet and smooth, he cooed at me, and then described the soothing warmth of the heater breathing caringly over his body, and marveled at the ease and comfort he was feeling, compared to his other cars like his Jeep J10 pickup. This is a man who is un-ironically reveling in the luxury of a fucking U-Haul like it’s a Maybach or something.
Is this sad? Is it beautiful? I can’t even tell anymore. Nothing makes sense. The rest of today is going to be a gray slog of heavy wet cold objects being flung to their destruction, without sentiment or ceremony, a forced march of disposal that nobody wants to do, and yet must be done. It must happen so one man can be free of this dirty anchor that has weighed him down for nearly a decade, a rusty anchor whose chains we are currently chewing through with grim resolve, hoping to free him and let buoyancy and light carry him off into the sun, where the real healing can begin.
At least, until he starts filling up his LA place with rusty shit. But for now, we’ll just hope that doesn’t happen.
I can empathize with Torch on having his face in contact with the carpet in Daves (former) house. One time at a party in a house I was renting (in what might as well have been the Delta House) I was drunk enough to: a) forget I was holding a drink, b) drop said drink, c) proceed to suck the drink out of the filthy carpet, and d) react in abject horror at what I’d just done…
Did I mention I was literally drunk enough to forget I was holding a drink and just dropped it? I feel the rest makes more sense if you keep that in mind.
Considering the death-traps some of us cherish, and love driving, I am sure there are other Autopians who would see a U-Haul truck as a Maybach!
Having put about 300k miles on two (second one still going strong) of these as work trucks, they’re really not bad at all.
A pile of rusty sh*t on the lawn is much more palatable if you just call it a “Tetanus Garden”
You’re pixelated ass crack bothers me less than the crime scene carpet. Yikes.
Twas a pleasure to be a part of such an epic send off!
Low standards, I guess. Meanwhile, a 1983 BMW 533i shitbox was a nicer car than any U-Haul I’ve ever been in. It’s all about what you’re used to. My current car (92 525i with 300k miles) would seem like a Maybach to David, as it has all new suspension, fairly nice leather seats, excellent heat and AC, not a single creak or rattle from the interior, and very little wind noise at 80mph.
Mommy, I can see this worm’s ass crack. Make it stop, Mommy!
Compared to David’s Postal Jeep that U-Haul was veritable Toyota Century. No rust holes, no collapsed seats and a working heater. By that standard, apart from the torn driver seat my pickup is positively sybaritic what with the leather upholstery and power windows and mirrors. I also enjoy the Taras Bulba touch of windshield mastic stains on the leather to show my truck actually worked.
Seriously moving is daunting because you never realize how much stuff you have until you have to pack it and I dumped a lot when we sold our house in 2015. I’m still sorting boxes and purging stuff 7 years later
I didn’t fully appreciate working heat in a vehicle until mine went out about a year ago. Now every time I turn it on and get actual warm air blowing out of the vents it makes me smile.
The heat in my Reliant is very hit-or-miss. Mostly miss. But when it does come on….man, what a delight.
“At least, until he starts filling up his LA place with rusty shit. But for now, we’ll just hope that doesn’t happen.”
I read the entire article anticipating this close and still laughed hard when I read it…
I remember my last u-haul truck rental, it was listed as ‘local only’ manual shift Ford that would pop out of second and third if you gave it any throttle, at 40 km/hr it vibrated so bad that it made me want to pee. Returned it and mentioned this, saw it being rented out about 30 minutes later.
I rented a u-haul pickup truck this summer. It was a recent vintage Chevy, but as expected it was beat to shit. Scratches, dents, broken things. A funky smell in the cab. Someone backed into a pole with the tail gate down, but it still latched. I started it up and looked at the odometer…
No, that’s not a typo!
Sad I missed out on the party! Looks like a great time for everyone!
David did you say what you were going to do with the Olds? I must have missed it.
I am extremely bummed I wasn’t able to make it to the party, Detroit is a far trip from Denver and I have a 5 month old and Wife who wouldn’t approve of skipping town for a couple days for whatever that ended up being.
Same deal for me but much closer. Timing of it sucked for me.
I’m not a Psychiatrist (and while I do play one, it’s only at Holiday Inns cause Betty thinks it’s kinky), but anyhow David fascinates me.
I mean we have all read about the child raised by wolves…does anyone else think that maybe David was raised by Junkyard Dogs? It would explain a lot….
“At least, until he starts filling up his LA place with rusty shit. But for now, we’ll just hope that doesn’t happen.”
LA does not freeze and have snow. It’s going to be infinitely better than Michigan.
I came up with a permanent solution to David’s problem over a decade ago- For $40K I bought a house with attached garage on an acre in a small midwestern town. Dead cars and parts thereof? Just park ’em in a line upwind and they become a snow fence!
That’s all well and good, until the township comes after you for running an unlicensed junkyard. 😉
1. I’m not the worst offender
2. I never sell any of my stuff, so I’m not running a business like a junkyard
3. If all else fails, I’m on the city council.
Which is part of why I bought in an unincorporated area, no town government, just have the county to worry about
Did David actually find a house to rent in LA or is he planning on wrenching out of an apartment carport? I ask because the latter of the two would make for some great stories.
Did an engine swap in an underground parkade in January once- the weekend security guard came down to watch and smoke weed while we did it
He’s likely going to have some access to Galpin facilities. They probably have a bay in back to let him access once in a while. Or tell him to get his junk over to GAS, which is still a thing.
Imagine the shenanigans David can get into now that he’ll have more access to the resources a large dealer group has on hand. If he needs a part for some obscure clunker, ask the folks at GAS to hit up their network. Someone will have one somewhere.
I smell a story where the Pimp My Ride crew works on a DT Holy Grail.
I don’t think that’s going to be a big enough truck…..unless they’re planning more than one trip.
Why don’t we see a roll-off?
Otto just saw that video clip and lamented, ” Geeze! I can’t leave you two alone for a minute!”
As someone who has spent entirely too much of his life moving across the country in a Uhaul/Penske/Budget/Etc, David should be pretty pleased.
Looks like y’all scored a GMC Savanna. Which means at least you’ll get a 4.8 (if not the preferable 6.0), a solid GM 4L60/80E, and hopefully steering that tracks straight. If you’re moving across the Appalachians, or the rockies, that’s a good truck to have.
The other choice in that size is the absolutely useless/miserable/thirsty/slow Econoline with the Ford 5.4. You’ll get 10MPG, you’ll fear every hill, and the buzzsaw sound (because it’s a cammer that has to rev) never goes away until days later.
So yeah, I totally get his excitement… if for a totally different reason.
I’ve driven several of the Savanas, and yeah, they’re passable. Once I had an Econoline (with a considerably bigger box), and it felt like some kind of DUI simulator. Truly terrifying.
Last time I had an Econoline U-Haul rental, the right front wheel bearing went from quiet to “omg I can’t even hear my own thoughts” in the span of just 300 miles.
Perfect description of any Ford with a Twin I-Beam front suspension.
Doesn’t matter how new or old it is, that’s the way they drive.
Wait until it drifts to the edge of your lane, correct it. Repeat until you reach your destination. It’s exhausting.
I volunteered to help a friend drive from Michigan to NYC – got a 20′ E series… I tried to keep up with him driving a normal car and was pretty much WOT for one full tank of gas. (Still got 10mpg) The noise was dreary and the echo inside, deafening. Everytime I slowed down 10mph it took an eternity to get back up to speed. Tow mode and engine braking saved my brakes on the downhill sections of I80, but I was worried about the transmission…
Took me a day or two to recover from that
In David’s defense, compared to how 99% of humanity have lived and continue to live, the cabin of this U-Haul truck is pretty damned sumptuous.
I feel for whoever moves in there next. I have this mental image of them trying to install a swimming pool, but ending up in a shot-for-shot remake of the climax to Poltergeist with rusty Jeep parts in the pool instead of corpses.
landlords going to send him quite the bill to clean that place out. I imagine little bits of rust sprinkled everywhere like sand at a beach house. Maybe a little oil oozing out of the walls.
Well considering the carpet there dates back to the early 90’s at best, the carpet should be replaced before the next person moves in. If you squint hard enough, David throwing a party, thus condemning the green shag with a hundred pairs of boots, is the best-case scenario.
Someone should have brought a metal detector to the party to find all the artifacts lost in the backyard mud pit.
Or make it a party game: Stub your toe on a car part in the back yard, do a shot! Find a bolt in the dishwasher, do a shot! See Jason’s butt doing the worm, do a shot! And the person who finds the most rust flakes gets a case of Stroh’s.
I assume at least one attendee got a case of tetanus, possibly simply from proximity to David.
Move over Typhoid Mary, its time for Tetanus David to take the stage
I think if the third thing happened, you would need more than a shot.
Funny enough, that was a suggestion at the campfire. David’s tools were buried under the snow and we started thinking of ways to find them. lol
Yeah, I guess I did offer up my Harbor Freight metal detector (is there anything they don’t sell?), but I didn’t follow through. David or Jason, if it’s still needed, hit me up. I work a mile from the house and can drop it off tomorrow.
Mercedes, it was a pleasure to meet you, and I enjoyed seeing how much fun you were having throwing things into the fire!
“David’s tools were buried under the snow”
Fucking hell David. Is nothing scared you animal!?!
*SACRED! My kingdom for an edit button!
Edit button or no, I knew what you meant, and I screamed a silent scream for those tools.
If you owned his tools you’d throw them in the snow too. I saw them over summer and prayed he would find a tool sponsor to send him some that were less rusty and mismatched.
“You son of a b*tch. You moved the chassis, but you left the parts, didn’t you? You son of a b*tch, you left the parts and you only moved the chassis. You only moved the chassis. Why? Why?”
Slowly, very slowly, I saw what you did there.
Honestly, I have to say, Dave’s house was a little underwhelming considering all the hype over the years – was expecting something out of Hoarders, but it was actually in perfectly habitable condition. I mean, once the snow melts, there might be some hidden horrors in the yard that reveal themselves and trigger an EPA audit, but, overall, it seemed perfectly fine.
The party was *after* they had already cleaned a bunch..
The night before, it wasn’t so clean.
Thank you! You have no idea how much Jason and I had to do to make it… presentable.
In all seriousness, it was very generous of you to open your place up like that to a bunch of us strangers – was a fun day, and good luck on the rest of the move
Oh please make this the QOTD.