Fat Bastards' Moving Company

When I heard that Leroy was stopping in North Carolina to collect a few things on the way to his mother’s house, I was very excited. I immediately started taking mental notes on the location of nearby porta-jons, rows of unguarded traffic cones, big-hair heavy metal rock bands, local auto races, and other sources of amusement. I wanted Leroy to have a good time while he was in town.

But when we arrived at Leroy’s storage unit, it turned out that the task at hand amounted to more than “throwing a few things in the back of the rental truck.” Leroy is the proud owner of the 1934 Old Italian Car. Well, as I should say, the remains of a 1934 Old Italian Car. The kind of car that can only be moved by jacking its ass up in the air and sliding furniture dollies under the crumbling tires.

So how do you move a car like that onto the trailer? One inch at time. How do you secure it so it doesn’t fall off? With steel come-along cables. And ropes. And nylon straps. And chains. And duct tape. Why hoist it onto a trailer in the first place? Why doesn’t Leroy just charge up its battery and drive it back to Texas? Because he also had to get 2,389 of his heavy-duty, commercial-grade paving stones loaded into the truck. There aren’t any rocks in Texas, so Leroy imports his from North Carolina.

The biggest obstacle to getting all this done was that Leroy and I aren’t as young as we used to be… we’ve each gained over five pounds since high school. And it was 94 degrees… probably more than that on the blacktop… and very humid. It was a good thing that we had brought a cooler filled with refreshing beverages, and another good thing that Leroy can still open beer bottles with his teeth.

Turns out, the job took all day and we never made it to the Fiat car show in Winston-Salem like we had planned. But it was finally time to hoist the engine and transmission (sold separately) into the back of the truck with the paving stones. In this photo we are gathering up our tools. Like Jethro Clampett, Leroy travels with his clothes packed in cardboard boxes. Note the cardboard tubes to safely transport collectable beer cans.

The 1934 Old Italian Car finally arrived back at my double-wide in Clayton. After a day in the heat, it was time for a hard-earned BBQ dinner, cold beers, and some flesh-eating zombie movies. By the time you read this the Old Italian Car will be back in Texas, ready to become Leroy’s latest restoration project. While I am relieved that my job is done, I’m afraid that Leroy’s work is just beginning.