By Rob Errera

I submit to you now a $20 Theory, which is probably worth much less.

When I was 14 years old I had $20 in my pocket. At 14 I wasn’t old enough to work anywhere except paper routes, but I wanted things so I worked whatever jobs I could. The $20 in my pocket made me a rich boy, indeed—I could buy a new CD and still have money left for the arcade and pizza parlor. When the money was gone I didn’t fret; I’d work again the next week and earn another $20.

At 16 I was old enough to work part-time at Burger King. I was

living the high life, buying more CDs and gadgets for my electric guitar. When the weekend rolled around, I could join my friends at the movies or the diner. I had $20 in my wallet.

At 18 I went away to college. Without a job I was broke. My parents helped out, but I was still on a strict budget; about $20 a week. It didn’t seem to go as far as it did when I was 16. I hated being poor. After a year, I transferred to a different college, lived at home, and got my job back at Burger King, this time with the lofty title of Assistant Manager. I was able to afford things again, like a car and car insurance. Around this time I also got my first credit card and I was introduced to the concept of going into debt (a dangerous concept, for sure). I bought new guitars and more CDs and lots of concert tickets. It was a good time -- I was making some coin and getting an education.

In my early twenties I graduated and got my first "real" job (working for the newspaper you’re reading now) and my first apartment. It was the first time I had to pay for housing. Now I was paying rent and utilities in addition to a car payment, insurance and of course, my credit card debt. It seemed the more money I made the more my monthly expenses increased. I worked two part-time jobs in order to have an extra $20 each week for "fun money."

A few years later I got married and bought a house. There was plenty of money then, two incomes worth. I was able to quit my part-time jobs. But then I got divorced and moved back to an apartment. Suddenly everything seemed very expensive. I was able to pay my rent and car insurance and utilities but there wasn’t much left over. My $20 "fun money" now had to go toward food and groceries, which wasn’t much fun at all. I ate a lot of Cup-o-Noodles and I survived. I landed a better paying job and eventually I was able to pay all bills, eat like a human, and still have $20 left at the end of the week. I felt like I was 16 again!

By this time I was in love again (and the proud papa of three dogs) and we needed a stable place to live. Be bought a "handyman’s special" and spent a year renovating it. It took every penny we had to make the place livable. When we finally moved in there were blankets covering the windows and second-hand furniture in the living room, but it was home for our dogs and us. We had no money left, not even $20, but it was ours.

We’ve been living here for six months and we’re slowly -- very slowly -- turning our ramshackle house into a nice home. I still only have $20 in my wallet -- and that’s going to be spent at the Home Depot later today -- but I have things; a bunch of the CDs I bought when I was 14, and some of the guitars and the books, too.

But I also have living things and intangible things, people and pets I love and a safe little place to call our own. These are things I wouldn’t trade for all the money in the world. I have a great life.

The theory is this: I still only have $20 in my pocket -- maybe the same $20 I had in my pocket when I was 14. But the quality of my life has improved all around me. I’ve come to realize that I may never have more than $20 spending money at any given moment -- any raises, bonuses, or lottery winnings that come my way will surely be used to pay off debt and continue home improvements. But right now I’ve got everything I ever wanted—and that makes me a rich man, indeed.

© 2001, Rob Errera
Reprinted courtesy of TODAY Newspapers