The Daily Derenger

6/18/2003

Another renter has taken the plunge into the world of owning.

I visited my friend Sue last night. She just bought a condo and a very nice one at that.

In the last few weeks, I have visited two different friends who have bought condos while a young married couple is building their second home.

To them I say good luck. And then I realized that the balance on my '97 Prizm with 145,000 miles is more than Sue's down payment.

I guess things work out differently for different people.

I always find myself comparing my life to those lives of others, especially those who are around the same age. Call it beating a dead horse but I'm often times amazed at how different my life is from their's.

The buying of a condo or even a couch with 58 pillows and a chenille throw blanket isn't possible either. It seems like I, too, should be interested in the lowest buying rates for a home or my companies 401K plan.

But such is not the case.

Instead, trying to secure comedy shows for the fall months so I have enough money to buy an Indian blanket at a truck stop is of major concern to me.

I write this still from the purple bedroom in the middle of mom's house. My room is spacious enough. This laptop, now totally obsolete and worth about a quarter of what I paid for it nearly three years ago (which reminds me - something needs to falter in this machine before the warranty expires in August) sits atop of a huge newspaper office desk.

A dry-erase map of the United States is placed on the wall at eye-level above the desk. Various dates in blue marker are scribbled next to some southern cities. Macon, Georgia; Ocala, Florida and Biloxi, Mississippi are just a few of my October destinations.

(Pepper, our 10-year-old German Short Haired Pointer has made the trek down to my room. She rarely comes down here this time of night since my mom works in the kitchen. However, mom told me of a hidden stash of homeade cookies and Pepper heard the revelation. She rose up as if to say, "Where are the cookies you speak of and how can I get my paws on some?" She now sits outside my room awaiting anything that may fall on the pinkish carpet.)

To the left of the map are two dry-erase calendars. The one most accessible is for 2003. Above it is a similar model from 2002. This gives me a good way of knowing where I played at the year before and also allows me to compare my comedy earnings month to month and year to year. To date, I have made more comedy money every single month of 2003 than I did last year. Something to hang my hat on I suppose. June will be my first month where such will not be the case.

Some of my writings from the Herald News serve as an L-shape border around the map. My humor columns, seven currently, make up the decor on the wall opposite the map, the wall against which the side of my bed rests.

A bookcase sits near the desk and features works from George Carlin, Tony Kornheiser, David Sedaris and Mitch Albom among others. The others are primarily authors of standup comedy books or writing guides

One shelf houses some great original record albums and covers. "Grease," "Jaws," and "The Godfather" just to name a few. Another shelf sees a lone can of Bumble Bee tuna sit in its corner. How it didn't land in my travel cuisine bag is beyond me. Beside the tuna sits some miscellaneous comedy CDs, mostly from acts I have worked with. Perhaps I will get tired of staring at them and make my own CD. They all rest on an old-school notebook in which I jounaled some of my 1997 travels with the Arizona Cardinals. It's the kind with a rough, canvas-like covering where the top of the cover pinches the papers together, forming a triangle. I also used such a notebook when I collected money on my paper route in grade school.

Well, enough of that kinda stuff. I'm heading to bed. A bed with a mattress and box spring that sit directly on the floor, the mattress a top the box spring of course. I may even be moved to wash the sheets tomorrow for the first time in months.

Another benefit, if you will, of living on the road. And not renting or owning wherever I sleep.