On an almost daily basis, I find myself genuinely upset and disappointed that certain artists are no longer with us, creating the consistent brilliance they once shared with the world. In order, these artists are Tupac Shakur, Kurt Cobain, and Mitch Hedberg.
And though I am confined by space, I find it necessary here to replicate an entire joke of Hedberg's from his 2003 album Mitch All Together: "I bought a house, it's a two-bedroom house, but I think it's up to me how many bedrooms there are, don't you? F- you, real estate lady, this bedroom has a oven in it. This bedroom has a lot of people sitting around watching TV. This bedroom's over in that guy's house. Sir, you have one of my bedrooms, are you aware?"
Yes, I am disappointed that Hedberg isn't making new albums and performing live shows, making people laugh in person from coast to coast, but I feel that my latest gesture of love pays tribute to Mitch by living out the absurdity of his observation. With a few simple acts of heavy lifting, I have transformed my two-bedroom suite in Ignacio into a family-size, three-bedroom apartment, because really, isn't it up to me to determine how many bedrooms there are?
Let's rewind to the fall of 2005, to the day my roommate called me in Rome from his study abroad headquarters of Paris to tell me about how he had a French girlfriend. Weeks later, when I would visit him in Paris, I would spend time gallivanting about the city with them and even sit idly by whilst they held each other tightly on street corners around the city. I would come to realize that this was no semester-long fling, but something I could expect to become a part of our lives back in America. Months later, when my own study abroad fantasy would come true (see this column from Sept. 7, 2006), it seemed as if we would be sharing more than a room come senior year. My roommate and I would also be sharing the experience of having a girlfriend living more than 1,000 miles away.
As it follows, when only one of us is experiencing the long-distance aspect of our relationship because the other's girlfriend is around, we can no longer share a room, as this would violate the laws of our commiseration. Thus, one of us is quick to accommodate the other by spending a few days sleeping on the couch or flying to Paris for a week and sleeping on a different continent.
What happens, though, when it's not just a weekend on the couch, when one of our girlfriends somehow gets an absurd amount of time off from work and spends a few hours short of one month in America? Well, while my roommate is away at the airport picking her up, my other roommates and I move a floor lamp, a box fan, a 20-inch television, and my bed into the storage closet at the end of the hall, replacing the boxes and extra chairs with livable furniture. After installing a Boston College-approved extension cord, surge protector, and coaxial cable, I have completely subverted authority and made Hedberg proud. This house has become a home.
Most of my friends don't seem to understand my willingness to move into the closet and enthusiasm about the whole experience. It's a complex question and a legitimate concern, and deserves an answer. First, obviously, I am a nice guy trying to accommodate my roommate, and just as obviously, it's not so bad to have my own room (especially because someone in years past affixed those glow in the dark stars to the ceiling, which makes me think I am not the first to pull this off). In some ways, as well, this is a gesture to something greater than their relationship. In some ways, I feel as if I am doing love's work. That, to paraphrase the Blues Brothers, I am on a mission from love. Love, which has done such fantastic things for me lately, is now demanding a sacrifice.
Sure, this is probably an overly romantic, foolishly complex, wildly abstract notion of what it means for me to simply sleep in a different room for a few weeks, but its admittedly a bit challenging, and it is these harmless exaggerations that make it worthwhile.
Besides, we haven't quite decided yet what we to do when, for the first time ever, both of our girlfriends visit, and I have to sell the beauty and nobility of the closet, just in case.
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