Mrs. Teabody Schlepps

“Let your boat of life be light, - - packed only with what you need."

― Jerome K. Jerome

I recently stumbled across a photograph taken of me when I was in my 20's walking the sandy beaches of Ocean City, MD clad in denim cutoffs and a long-sleeved tee shirt. My friend and I had decided on a spur of the moment weekend trip to the "shore"  and we'd stopped by my flat for everything I needed for the trip. All of it -- change of underwear, a clean tee shirt and a swimsuit along with all the cosmetics one needs at that youthful stage in life (lip gloss and eyeliner and a tube of Coppertone) - - are in the nifty burlap bag slung on my shoulder. "Packing" (as it were) had taken less than five minutes. Ah, youth! Ah, simplicity!

Flash forward twenty years to my first trip to Europe -- a doozy as I'd be staying for six weeks needing clothing for classes, theatre and sightseeing. I packed as most women making their first pond-crossing packed -- two HUGE suitcases as well as a carryon AND a big purse. Now this was long before the advent of the upright wheelie suitcase and even a year or two before the cases with helpful training wheels. This was straight up "pick up at your peril and carry" and if the term "pack horse " comes to mind it is with good reason. I will never forget standing at the bottom of a wooden platform that went straight up two flights then crossed four sets of train tracks before  going down the other side to the platform we needed to be on. We literally inched our way up, across and down. After that trip, I learned to pack lighter.

Has this ever been you?

If you travel, you know that some airports are bigger than a small city.  Atlanta (ATL) for instance covers 4,700 acres of land and has five parallel runways. London's Heathrow (LHR) covers 4.74 square miles . On my most recent trip to Heathrow (with one well-wheeled bag and one handbag!), I deliberately tracked my steps from "doors open for plane" to "baggage claim", and the distance traveled from jetway to border control/immigration to baggage claim was just under one mile. I assure you it seemed three times as far. Truly. Now I typically walk a couple miles each morning but add baggage or what I call "schleppage" and we have an altogether different experience. Weighted down with all the necessities of a twenty-first century sojourn in another place, we often enter our new country truly encumbered.

And that brings me to today's topic: schlepping. 

Definition of schlep 

(a) DRAG, HAUL

(b) to proceed or move especially slowly, tediously, awkwardly

You schlep. I schlep. We all schlep. And no other season like the rapidly approaching holiday season involves quite as much schlepping.  We schlep trees, wreaths, lights, extension cords. But mostly when we think about schlepping that may or may not end well we think about schlepping food. Especially food. How many portions of Thanksgiving and/or Christmas dinners will you tuck into the hatch or trunk of your car this year? And over the course of all those trips to Nana's or cousin Charlie's or kind friend Rebecca's has your crock pot - - filled to the brim with pulled pork or bell pepper soup or chile con quest - - gone on a miles-away journey with you? And what portion of those trips has resulted in some sort of accidental spillage that resulted in some sort of permanent stain and lingering aroma? Personally, I still live with the memory of a willful crockpot of chile emptying itself onto the passenger seat somewhere along Great Cove Road when a kamikaze squirrel  dashed into the path of my VW Beetle. Get the picture? This poor fellow does. 

Musicians have to schlep. You may  think a guitar player throws his "axe" into the back seat and fires the engine. You'd be wrong. Think about music, tablets, extra equipment, speakers. As part of a band, a musician might be expected to schlep all manner of electrical equipment, lights, screens, costume changes. Dainty members of the band might require assistance. Breaking everything down after a gig ends might involve an hour's work and lots of schlepping equipment to vehicles. If the gig involved playing in the middle of some "romantic" field half a mile away from parking . . .well, you get the picture. All this so we the audience get to hear "live" music. Worth it? As an audience member, I say yes, indeed.

Artists must also schlep. Perhaps it's just a day of painting out in the air but think what that simple act entails: easel, canvas, water or other fluids, paints, cloths, brushes, perhaps even a chair or stool. Most artists I know have a dedicated vehicle for schlepping. Some even have a separate set of equipment just to avoid having to pack up the car. Is all this necessary just to whip up a painting? If you know a good "En plain air" painter, the answer is, again, yes.

Sportsmen? Think about it. All the equipment, all the clothing. The guns? The ammo? The bows? The arrows? And who hasn't seen someone pull into a car wash pulling a trailer loaded down with one or two ATVs smothered in mud? Was that a fun trip when EVERYTHING gets dirty? Perhaps? Just ask one. Everyone loves a story.

During the month of October I carried out two tea-related events that required intensive schlepping. As you know, a formal tea involves a lot of fairly tricky "breakables". China and crystal need to be carefully wrapped so as not to brush against each other and chip and  every piece must be made secure. A crystal goblet airborne holds little hope of surviving its flight in one piece. ONE place setting at a tea party involves no fewer than TEN separate pieces. Plates, cups and saucers, bread and butter plates, dessert plates all demand careful packing and once you add packing materials you add volume and once you have volume with everything carefully packed in boxes, your car fills ever so much more quickly. 

Once the breakables have been packed there remains linen: table cloths, runners, place mats. There is also the matter of decoration: candles, candle holders, flowers and if there are spots to be hidden/concealed, there must be drapery as well. All of these things combined make for a stunningly pretty environment. Is it all worth it? Probably.

Next weekend I plan to go away for a short, three-day trip with three friends. The hotel has a spa with a nice indoor pool and while we are all way past the days when I can pack everything I need in an over the shoulder bag as I did fifty years ago, I do plan to pack a swimsuit and clean underwear. Someone will bring along a bottle or two of wine. Another someone will bring along real wine glasses because who wants to celebrate four different birthdays with plastic cups? Not us. Bath salts and bubble bath? Of course? Pretty pajamas and robes? Whatever you think you'll NEED, my Dear.

Here's the truth about schlepping. If you pack it, you must schlep it. That's the rule. And while carting around an ever-shifting tray of appetizers or four sets of cymbals or two extra tubes of paint and twelve brushes or three hunting rifles or ten pieces of place setting or just enough stuff to keep a woman entertained for three days can be a royal pain in the a$$, it is, after all, what we do. 

So schlep on, my friends; schlep on.