A predicament of riches

July 13, 2006

Dear Julie,

Four months ago I decided I wanted a room of my own. My dream was a haven to practice my golf swing, play my guitar, do yoga, read and hang out with myself.

The idea miffed DC, primarily because she had to find new homes for all the furniture that was in the room, which previously was our den. Most of the furniture wound up in the living room, which DC insists now looks like a college student's apartment. Nothing goes together.

DC's in a book club with women who have exquisite homes. The sophomore chic interior decorating in our living room has made her embarrassed to invite them over. I've ruined her social life.

Claiming a room of my own has evolved into the Battle of South Lorimier Street.

DC pushed a desk that came out of the den into the foyer. There it stood for days waiting for the man of the house to help carry it upstairs. I thought we should decide on a destination for the desk before moving it. DC didn't know where the desk was going to go. It was going.

Yesterday the desk was gone.

"Do you know how many steps are in that staircase?" she asked.

I bet she did. "Fifteen," she said.

Weeks have passed since I asked her to help me take down the chandelier in my room. I just wanted her to spot me to avoid electrocution or falling off the ladder and breaking my legs. DC seems in no hurry to prevent either from happening.

We did agree on the design of the new light fixture that someday will replace the chandelier that just keeps hanging around. The fixture is decorated with palm trees and monkeys.

The final pieces of the room are coming into place. An Internet connection is being installed today. A 3-foot-by-4-foot mirror has been installed so I can see what my golf swing looks like. I just can't swing a club yet because of the chandelier and, of course, the fear of electrocution and broken bones.

Friends gave me an electric putting machine with an automatic return. I could stand there for hours practicing my putting if I wanted to. But after a few minutes, I move on to something else.

That's the thing I've learned about having a room of your own that contains almost everything you need. You don't know what to do first or next. It's a predicament of riches.

Though my room is filled with guitars and golf clubs and outfitted with a TV and DVD player, at this point the living room gets more of my time. My room doesn't have cable TV like the living room does, and the TV screen in my room is smaller than the screen in the living room. My room also doesn't have a couch. Isn't it nice to stretch out after a hard day's work?

Sometimes I just stand at the door of my room and look inside.

Decades ago Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys wrote "In My Room," a song about having your own little place in the world to dream and scheme, cry and sigh, "laugh at yesterday."

Brian Wilson, of course, went a bit crazy.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.