U-Haul

To be honest, I almost didn't blog this morning because blogging meant that my coffee, which has been a fixture in my left hand, would have to sit all alone on the coffee table. I have an emotional attachment to my coffee this morning. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I worked for 16 & 1/2 hours yesterday. Yeah...16.5 for those of you who don't do fractions. "Coach Rockstar," you ask, "why such a long day?"

Funny you should ask...

My boss needed help with a project yesterday and enlisted me and a few others to lend our muscles. The mission: Pick up a gym full of equipment from a gymnastics place going out of business and bring it to our location roughly 70 miles south eastish from said gym.

The day began at 7:45 a.m. when I dropped my boss off at the local U-Haul to pick up the 26-ft. trailer he'd requested. U-Haul man pulls around this P.O.S. U-Haul (seemingly from the World War II era) with--and I'm NOT exaggerating--a quarter of a million miles on it. Yep, that's right...252,252 to be exact. Before we even set out on our journey the boss man had to tighten the side mirrors, which were attached to the door by a thread. The 70 mile drive took over an hour and a half, with the clutch grinding in every gear and the passenger side door sounding as if it could fall off at any minute. We had to yell at each other to talk because it was so loud. (Side note...it was the first time in my life I'd ever been eye-to-eye with a trucker...it was a little creepy.)

So anyways, we get to our location, load up the U-Haul with lots of back-breaking work and creative engineering and send the truck back with 2 other guys who came to help. Their mission: drive the truck back, put all of the stuff in storage or in the current gym, and be back in 6 hours so we could load the rest of the stuff. In the meantime, the boss man and I grabbed lunch and got the rest of the equipment prepped for loading. The rest of the evening went off fairly according to plan, but we knew that something had to go wrong soon.

Problem #1: "We aren't going to fit all this stuff in here tonight...we'll have to come back tomorrow," my boss said, to the groans of those around him. Indeed, the U-Haul was packed to it's limit with a spring floor, foam, and various odds and ends.

Problem #2: "This ramp won't push back in." Alas, it would not. The U-Haul was loaded and ready to go, but the ramp was off its track. With a flashlight, some poking and prodding from underneath the truck, and some muscle, the ramp finally slid back into it's home under the trailer.

At this point, my boss and I got in his truck while our other 2 helpers, Tizzle and JoJo, climbed in the left-heavy U-Haul and headed back to our destination. My boss and I decided to stop at Jersey Mike's for a little din-din on the way home. It was almost 8:30, after all, and we were hungry. We went into the bathroom to wash our hands and when I came out, I looked at the yummy menu, contemplating my order. All of the sudden, boss man comes out of the bathroom on his cell phone and says,

Problem #3: "They just got pulled over by a state trooper. He says they don't have any taillights and he won't let them go any further." So much for Jersey Mike's. We bolted out of there like gangbusters and headed to the Food Lion parking lot where Tizzle and JoJo stood beside the U-Haul, perplexed. Apparently, this representative of Tennessee's Finest pulled them over, asked if it was their truck (which was humorous in and of itself, because it was a 26-foot U-Haul) and said that they don't have taillights and that he couldn't let them leave. Leaving no suggestions behind, the state trooper left to pull over some other unsuspecting driver and intimidate them with his big-brimmed hat. We were all starving, so the boss man suggested that we go to the Pizza Hut across the street and contemplate our next move over pizza. We locked up the U-Haul and headed to Pizza Hut.

Problem #4: "We can't locate a mechanic in your area," said the U-Haul customer service rep, "we'll call you back when we find one." We contemplated having the boss man drive his truck behind the U-Haul on the way home with his flashers on if we didn't hear back from the U-Haul people by the time the last piece of pizza was demolished. As fate would have it, the call came several minutes later, letting us know that a mechanic was on his way and would probably be there in about 45 minutes.

Problem #5: "Uh, this key has a crack in it," Tizzle said with a perplexed tone. So slowly and gently they put the key in the door, gave it a little turn and CRACK...it broke off in the door.

"For real?" you might ask, "are you making this up?"
Oh no...it gets better.

Problem #6: "Sir, I see that as a customer problem, not a U-Haul problem," said the condescending customer service rep at U-Haul. And that's where the polite dam broke and the flood waters of came cursing in. "WHAT?!" said the boss man. "DO YOU HEAR THAT? (insert sound of boss man kicking the U-Haul and things falling off of it here) THAT IS THE SOUND OF PIECES OF S#!% FALLING OFF OF THIS PIECE OF S#!% THAT YOU RENTED ME! YOU GAVE ME A TRUCK WITH A QUARTER OF A MILLION MILES ON IT AND YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT THIS IS MY FAULT?" "Well you should have noticed that there was a crack in the key," said the condescender, "why did you put a cracked key in the ignition?" "FIRST OF ALL, THE ONLY TIME THE KEY HAS LEFT THE IGNITION IS WHEN WE HAD TO LOCK IT UP BECAUSE WE GOT PULLED OVER BECAUSE THIS PIECE OF S#!% DIDN'T HAVE ANY WORKING TAILLIGHTS. SECOND, WHEN I RENTED THE TRUCK, THE GUY DROVE IT UP TO THE FRONT, I GOT IN IT AND DROVE IT AWAY AND EVERY TIME WE PARKED IT WE JUST LEFT THE KEYS IN THE IGNITION BECAUSE WE WERE RIGHT THERE LOADING UP THE TRUCK." "Sir I'm sorry, this is a customer problem. You will have to call the locksmith."

What followed were more tyrannical rampages that would make a sailor blush and continued noncooperation from the U-Haul representative.

Problem #7: "Well, it will take me about an hour to get there," said the locksmith. "How much will it cost?" I asked. "$100," answered the locksmith. By this time it was already 9:45 and we were all delirious. To pass the time, JoJo found a log book in the U-Haul with logs of all of the repairs in it. Some of the entries included: "Jimmy rigged" such and such, "No Bueno," "replaced engine," and "replaced log book."

Problem #8: "Looks like the problem is this crusty a$$ circuit breaker they got in here from 1988," said our totally cool hippie mechanic who fixed the problem by replacing said crusty a$$ circuit breaker with a new, crust-free one. We all got a kick out of the fact that when he opened the hood of the U-Haul, it was hard to see past the strands of duck tape hanging everywhere."

From there, the problems began to cease as the evening came to a close. The locksmith came near 10:45, just as the mechanic was leaving, to remove the broken key from the door and give us a working key. It was finally time to continue our journey home.

As if the U-Haul wanted to make one final statement, my boss saw the left break light blow out as we were pulling out of the parking lot in his truck. "I told you it was a piece of s#!%," said the boss man with more colorful variety that I'll chose to omit.

We finally rolled into our destination around 12:15 A.M, dirty, exhausted, and with great tales to tell.

That's why my coffee was reluctant to leave my hand this morning. It knows it's time to get up and face the beast. Hopefully this time the drama will stay behind.

When I Grow Up

"I want to be a princess when I grow up," said Summer.
"I want to be a mommy," Mary Kate said.
"I want to eat dinner," giggled Jolie.
"No Jolie...what do you want to BE when you grown up," I clarified.
With this, Jolie shrugged her shoulders.

It always makes me smile to hear what children want to be when they grow up. If good intentions are any indication, there will be no shortage of Walt Disney World employees and veterinarians in about 20 years.

Kacey wants to be Wonder Woman.
David wants to be Batman.
Julia wants to be a lion tamer.
Emily and Lauren want to be Mickey Mouse.
Still several more want to be doctors.
Bivi wants to work at Old Navy and wear one of those headsets.

I think when I was their age I'd made up my mind to be an artist. At the time, it probably sounded more promising than if I'd said I wanted to be a gymnastics coach. One of the most refreshing things about children is that they haven't lived long enough to talk about what they think they should do...they are only interested in following their heart and doing what they think would be the coolest thing on earth. Maybe some of us should try that sometime.

We've Got Spirit, Yes We Do!!

We've got spirit, how 'bout you? It's the week of our upper level's State Meet and every day thus far has had a different theme. Tonight was by far the most fun with "crazy hair" as the theme. Some had multiple ponytails. Some spray painted blue and gold. Some had their hair looking like they were on a high fashion European catwalk. I stuck popsicle sticks in my hair with blue and gold stars attached...it was interesting, and almost impossible to explain. Maybe I can figure out how to put a picture on this thing so you can see it for yourself. One of our male staff had little ponytails all over his head. And one of our team kids had a little pouch of Jolly Ranchers hanging from her ponytail (which was sticking straight up in the air, I might add) just in case she got hungry during practice.

Ah, the joys of spirit week.

On a different note, I have a couple more funny quotes:

One of our younger team kids said, "Sometimes when I run for vault, snot comes out my nose."

I'm not exactly sure what spawned this next question, but Garret pondered aloud, "Coach J.T., remember when you told me you had a penguin in your freezer...were you telling me the truth about that?"

One more point to ponder: I've found this week that children are highly motivated when you bribe them with rice cakes. Who'da thought?

Quotables

Kids will say the darndest things. Sometimes they aren't even THAT funny, but they make me smile. I thought I'd share some with you.

Yesterday I overheard one of my little girls that was waiting for class reading the posted signs to her grandma. Here's how she interpreted the one that says: "Please keep your children off the wall":
Summer said, "Please keep your chickens off the wall."
Thanks, Summer...we'll keep that in mind just in case we bring our chickens to the gym with us.

Mary Kate was pumped yesterday due to her mother's incentive:
"If I don't pee pee in my pull-up for the WHOLE DAY I get a toy!!"

Audrey was about to show me a skill she'd been working on and I asked her, "Audrey, is this going to be any good or should I just come back later?" She said "I'm gonna rock your world."

Then there's Fizz who yelled my name across the gym in her little country accent. I said, "What, Fizz?" She goes, "I forgot." Five minutes later...the same thing. I think she just wants an excuse to yell across the gym.

Caroline calls my boss, "Coach with no hair"

The twins wanted to pray for their dad, because "everytime he goes to the bathroom he has diahrea."

Tater-tot said, "My mom said having a baby is kinda like having to poop, except it comes out the other hole and you have to push a lot harder."

Needless to say, every day in Coach Rockstar's world is an adventure :)

Nicknames

What we call someone says a lot about who that person is. For instance, in the Bible, names weren't just picked out of thin air...they were chosen for a reason. I have found that children are extremely picky about what they are called.

I joke with my kids all the time. I call them stinkers and turkeys and all sorts of colorful descriptors. Once I was calling one of my kids a muscle woman because she did something that took a lot of strength. She looked at me with an exasperated look on her face and said, "I'm not a muscle woman...I'm a muscle girl." Duh Coach Rockstar, I mean SERIOUSLY.

I had a boy try my class several weeks ago for the first time and he came out with a name tag that said "Ian"...only the "Ian" was scratched out and "Sergio" was written in its place. This one "Sergio" informed me that his full name was actually "Sergio Monster Truck" but I could just call him Sergio.

One of my classes has 2 Sydneys in it. I asked if I could call one of them Sid so as not to get them confused with one another. Of course they both wanted to be called Sid, so I had to convince one of them to keep her full name for convenience sake. The next week, Sid no longer wanted to be called Sid but now wanted to go by her formal name of Sydney. Unfortunately, by now Sydney did not want to be called Sid either. I ended up having to resort to the first and middle name approach (thank goodness those were not the same!)

My team kids seem to think it is a fatal faux pas when I forget to call them by their nickname. It's almost as if acquiring a nickname is a sort of rite-of-passage. We have Skipper, Fiz, Dorito, Cottage Cheese, Chicky, Jellyfish, Falarah, and Rocky (just to name a few). Sometimes they are totally random (like Dorito and Cottage Cheese). Sometimes they are an adapted form of the child's real name (like Falarah and Fiz). Sometimes they have to do with a certain identifiable characteristic (Skipper is flexible like a Barbie doll, Jellyfish is kinda wiggly and sweats a lot). Sometimes it's their last name with a "Y" attached to it. Whatever the origin might be, nicknames are highly sought after and coveted by all.

Maybe that's why I like it when the kids call me Coach Rockstar...