Monday, March 17, 2008

the rumpus room


Here's another part of my house that I love, and sometimes desperately miss when I'm at college. In our house it's what we call "the rumpus room." (Definition: rum·pus   [ruhm-puhs] noun, plural 
1. a noisy or violent disturbance; commotion; uproar) I don't know who originally coined the term for the room, but as a kid, I never knew what it meant. I rightfully thought it referred to a place we could make messes with all of our toys and be wild. Not that we didn't do that anywhere else in the house, but in was somehow pardoned in this room.
After we grew up, and the action figures, toy weapons, and "my little ponies" were packed into boxes and given away, it became a room for punching bags, old couches, air hockey, storage, etc. One christmas, an extravagant weight set was a clanking contraption and underused addition to the ecclectic room. It still was the room for an older sort of play time.
Now, with the aging of our family, the room has continued to evolve. And I'd even go to say that the meaning of the word "rumpus" has metamorphosed and taken on a new meaning. This came with a sort of renaissance in our family. The age of the dance studio, little league, and guitars. When I am home these days, I say it isn't home without waking up to Skyler shredding on his guitar blasting over the amp. Throughout the day, music and voices of girls and young women can be heard from Tricia's dance studio. (once a garage, though I can hardly recall it being one) This music often accompanied with the sound of taps on clogging shoes, as Jheri teaches her classes. 
After school, in the afternoon, the boys have returned wit their friends and are having a serious jam sesh, or just showing off for each other the most insane riffs they can manage to strain. Brock is probably pounding something on the rickety drum set. Overall, it might sound like a weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth for the mothers coming to pick their daughters up from dance lessons, but for me
it is sort of beautiful. I often miss the chaos of my the rumpus room in my small, quiet college apartment.
On the other hand, it is not always chaotic. At opportune times, I have found this room to be one of the most private and tranquil in the house, affording me the privacy to play and sing with an audience of baseball gear, silent amps, and electric guitars. Just me and the acoustic. In fact, this is the room where I started teaching myself how to play. It's where I wrote and recorded my first song, and basically began discovering a part of myself that... I'm still trying to figure out in many ways.
The room isn't anything beautiful that anyone should desire it, but I must say it's precious to me. Here's just a few random shots in the rumpus room:


I brought the Dean guitar home for the weekend, as Skyler requested. Him and my dad have been so generous to let me take it to school with me. I know that Skyler loves it just as much as I do. It is a beautiful guitar. Skyler got to practice some of his acoustic songs.
haha... I stole this from Jheri's blog. I wanted to pose in front of Sky's new, red Marshall amp.
Keyboard on African Drum... random.

Skyler helping Gracie make racket.

2 comments:

Chase & Tricia said...

Wow! That was beautiful...seriously. Must be the English major coming out in you. Who would have thought I would almost shed a tear about the rumpus room!!?!?!

Jheri said...

Yes Holli...you are so deep! ha!ha! I looked back at my post, that goat does look like a bunny! We had a good time...too bad you couldn't be there! p.s. are you one of the evil ones who voted for Tricia on my blog???