Moving to a new state soon, I am buying a lot of stuff for the new home while I reside in Oregon, to take advantage of the lack of a sales tax. Some of it is bulky and heavy and requires an actual freight company to deliver it.
Friday I waited for the truck with the grandchildrens bunk beds to arrive. I sat on our porch, drinking my BRCC coffee in my BRCC mug to catch the crew before they unloaded. I needed them to drive to the street below where my garage is, in order for me to assemble it there for moving day.
We are having beautiful end of summer weather, blue skies, low 70s F, so I enjoyed handling calls and emails while outside, only interrupted by the dog walkers running by , each leading a gaggle of toy dogs on methedrine.
The deuce and a half arrives and the driver is alone. He responds to my request with cheer, just making sure of the turns to get there successfully.
I go downstairs , open the garage door and wave him in as he approaches.
The guy gets out of the cab and is extremely large. About 6 foot eight, maybe 400 pounds, with serious musculature and serious tattoos. He may be the biggest Hispanic guy I have ever met.
Like many large folks, they have the open friendliness that comes with being the top of the food chain. I offer to help unload, since he has no helper, but he will have none of it. He picks up the boxes of the bed kit, consisting of eucalyptus wood and brackets and one hands each out of the truck and under the cover on my driveway.
During this process, we engage in conversation about the local area, why I am moving (taxes and crazy politicians) and his thinking about exiting the state for his family’s sake. He is currently residing in Portland city limits, and the tax burden is significant with declining services.
Despite that decline, a great preponderance of Portlanders are died in the wool progressives, If you have seen the show “Portlandia” it is not comedy but a documentary.
As he is wrapping up, getting my electronic finger scrawl on his cellphone which somehow is supposed to be a legal signature, he suddenly gets a darker change in tone in his facial expression and says “You’re not one of those Trump supporters, are you?”
I gave my usual response when asked that by a Portland resident, while part of my brain is shouting “He can crush you easily”.
“Yes, because there is no one around I can see who is better.”
The man grabs my hand and cracks a twelve inch wide smile, pumps it up and down and goes “He is the best goddamn thing that ever happened to this country”
I realized the dark tone and his question was a defense posture, as admitting your politics where he lives will result in shunning and worse.
We talked for another half an hour. It made my day.