I call it the Redroom. Christa calls it the Nerd Garage. In any case, it is an essential part of my life.

I think I was about 13 when I first discovered it, and while I didn't have an actual room I could escape to necessarily, I did have a time I could escape to -- the nighttime. Everyone in the house fell asleep during the evening news. I did not. I stayed up and watched Johnny Carson and maybe David Letterman. On Fridays, I watched USA Up! All Night, on Saturdays I watched SNL, and on Sundays I listened to the Dr. Demento Show on the radio. All of this was pure bliss. I was doing exactly what I wanted to do, innocuous though it was. All other times of the day I was subject to scrutiny, and had to feel a bit ashamed of what I was doing. Only at night was I completely free to geek out.

In college, I think my "Redroom" was the woods. I walked in the woods all the time, usually the same trails in West Duluth, around Casket Quarry and up above Skyline Drive. I read in the woods, sometimes did my homework in the woods (which, being an English major, was usually reading, although sometimes it was writing).

In my 20s, I worked in the afternoon and my "Redroom" time shifted to the mornings. Here I developed a taste for black coffee. I read a lot of difficult novels. I cooked a lot of great meals. I listened to a lot of music. I explored the Internet, though it's hard for me to imagine what I did online before I discovered blogging. I think I just downloaded crap off of P2P networks. Mainly I spent a lot of time staring out the window at the freeway, which was about 100 feet away from the building. Hypnosis.

In 2003 when I moved to a duplex on 52nd Avenue West, the "Redroom" was for the first time an actual place -- a spare bedroom with a separate entrance. The landlord remodeled the apartment that way because he intended to rent the apartment as a one-bedroom and let his brother sleep in the spare bedroom while visiting. We negotiated the second bedroom for a little extra rent and it became what I liked to refer to as my "Man-Den," even though what it actually was was a storage area with my computer desk in it. Here I blogged, listened to music, and I wrote this post which refers inarticulately to the concept I am presenting here today.

In 2005, I moved downstairs of the apartment I live in now. I spent much of my time there alone, so in theory the whole place was my "Redroom," but once again the computer room was the place I retreated to to achieve the feeling I routinely need. That room was great, but it's a poor facsimile of the room I use and love today.

Unlike the photo presented above, which was taken when I first moved into this apartment, the Redroom is unbelievably messy, and is the most obviously "lived-in" room in the whole place. The floor is carpeted with CDs and cables. Spare computer parts, software disks, and beer-bottle caps are everywhere, as are stray notes and various unused electronic equipment. The only light comes from my shoddy screen and a 7-port USB hub sitting on a shelf to my right. I sit here with enormous 1970s headphones on, listening to iTunes, drinking a whiskey sour and using a Frisbee for a coaster.

I am very lucky and very happy in a lot of aspects of my life these days, knock wood. But in the Redroom I am always happy.

In the Redroom, I am home.